Ch.22 Ball Bearings (Patreon)

[Disclaimer: Read the announcements on Unfiltered chapters before drawing conclusions on them. This chapter is 6k+ words. The Unfiltered is 9k+ words and has slower pacing. You're not losing anything by reading the main story.]

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When people think of fantasy dwarves, they think of mining, blacksmithing, and alcohol distilling. And, of course, short stature.

Well, the Dwarves in Dragon’s Peak were indeed short people famous for mining, blacksmithing, and alcohol distilling... but these dwarves were also known for their vibrant nightlife.

Around midnight in Soltiacian time, we reached a lookout hill and saw a mile-long stretch of tents in front of the gates to Kragghammer. These tents displayed emblems of numerous merchant companies worldwide and noble households.

The scene resembled Oktoberfest. Dwarven women moved around the heated patios illuminated by torches, serving frothy mugs of beer and shots of spirits to enthusiastic customers. They laughed and shared stories of their travels while enjoying hot dishes of bread and meat seasoned with exotic spices.

Musicians played near the fire, singing tales of ancient times as merchants engaged in lively trade, wheeling and dealing their exotic spices in exchange for spirits and ironworks brought to Kragghammer.

Dragon’s Peak was Novena's leading exporter of metal products and distilled spirits. Naturally, merchants flocked there to acquire swords, shields, axes, wine, beer, and distilled alcohol. And naturally, when they arrived after their two to four-week journey, they indulged in drinking until the Dwarves bled their money pouches dry.

This explained the tents, music, and Dwarven food and spirits carts catering to people worldwide—the 200-strong line of people trying to enter Kragghammer's iron gates was a different story.

“ANOTHER OPENING! STEP BACK!”

The thirty-foot iron gates, adorned with images of dwarves wielding battle hammers, swung open, releasing a plume of steam into the crowd. The hot steam spread through the area like an eerie fog, accompanied by rhythmic drum beats from the hypnotic music.

Explosive cheering met the phenomenon as the hot air swirled, causing light snow to fall upon the crowd.

"Don't they get cold?" Thea shivered, observing the men and women standing in the blistering cold, chatting without coats.

"Of course they do," Zenith replied, pointing at the vibrant orange flames on either side of the line. "Those are wyvern flames heating the area. The ground is warmed by magma from Dragon's Roost. It's relatively warm where they're standing."

"I see," I frowned. "So, there are actual hot springs inside?"

"Plenty," she confirmed. "They've turned this place into a tourist resort."

According to historical accounts, the Dwarven capital in Dragon's Peak was once a respectable blacksmithing and mining community. However, a few centuries ago, King Thrain took over and introduced commercial distilling—and it spurned a very unhealthy revolution.

Commercial was a key term. I was "introducing many things," like the waterwheel, had existed on Earth since ancient times. However, they weren't widely used for manufacturing, textiles, and mining until the 18th century, when advancements in technology and engineering allowed for widespread utilization. These were the innovations I was bringing to Solstice.

Similarly, distilling had existed in various forms for tens of thousands of years in Solstice. However, it wasn't accessible or affordable, so people didn't consume it. King Thrain changed that by introducing the first commercial distilling apparatus using Dragon's Peak iron. Once it became affordable, people became hooked, much like the addiction to coffee.

"So, how do we get in?" Zenith asked. "Should we announce our arrival?"

I shook my head. “In negotiations, you never want to give the other party time to prepare, so we’re getting in another way. That way we can throw him off guard. Wait here. I’ll get us inside.”

With those words, I leaped off the mountain, descending 100 feet and using wind magic to soften my landing, creating the illusion of a magician.

As the people in line gawked over my arrival, an impatient blue meteorite crashed down from the heavens, and I jumped up, catching it in my arms and using magic to break our fall.

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock when they saw a cute beastkin maid, and they cheered as if they had seen a performance piece.

"Sorry, I just..." Thea blushed with embarrassment, realizing she hadn't listened when I told her to wait.

"It's okay," I replied. "Things are better with you by my side anyway."

"Oi! Who are you, and how did you get up there?!" Two massive Dwarven warriors wielding battle hammers approached us.

“I’m here to talk business with King Thrain about spirits,” I responded. "I would appreciate it if you could escort us to him."

The dwarves snorted and mocked me for a few minutes, taking turns laughing until I impatiently cracked my neck.

“You’re going to regret laughing me,” I said. “Hell, I bet I could drink you lot under the table without catchin’ a buzz.”

Naturally, that didn’t sit well with the dwarves. In a whirlwind, five dwarves procured a large table and placed it between two wyvern heating torches, which were, in fact, quite toasty.

Before us: six shot glasses and five bottles of hard liquor.

"Can you believe this kid?" Rickard, a massive dwarf twice as thick as a short human, stroked his thick mane-like beard. "A kid who thinks he can outdrink US. Dwarves!"

They burst into laughter once again, finding it funnier each time they said it, and glanced at me, making it nearly impossible to have a serious conversation.

"Not only that..." Oldsman, another guard with a white braided beard, wheezed. "He wants us to drink his swill while he drinks ours?"

Several bottles of liquor were on the table. They offered two amber bottles, and I presented one that appeared to be water.

There was a brief pause.

Then an eruption of laughter drew the attention of those waiting in line.

Rickard poured an amber liquid into my shot glass. "This is called Needan, you savage."

I smelled it. Brandy. Distilled wine. Then I knocked it back in one gulp. It tasted like piss—but then again, so did all hard alcohol. So I didn’t think too much about it.

As soon as it entered my system, the soul mana network in my body began purging the toxins, detoxifying me in real time. There was a slight delay, so if I downed a bottle of hard liquor in an hour, I might catch a mild buzz, but I wouldn't get drunk without good old-fashioned 190-proof grain alcohol.

Or, you know, 200-proof ethanol, AKA the stuff I handed to the dwarves.

"This stuff tastes delicious," I remarked, maintaining a stoic expression. Everyone watched me with anticipation, waiting for the moment they could burst into laughter again. "Too bad it's weak."

Thea took her shot and frowned, disappointed. "Yeah… it is."

The laughter stopped, and the dwarves’ eyes became murderous.

"Hah! Let's try your piss," Rickard grumbled, pouring a shot of it. As soon as the alcohol reached his nose, he shivered. The others ridiculed him, but he handed me the shot glass with a cold glare. "What th’ hell is this, boy?"

"That's real alcohol," I replied, casually taking the shot and knocking it back, shuddering as I exhaled.

Rickard's eyes widened when he found the glass back in his hand. "If you want to see me outdrink you with your own booze, I'm okay with that too," I suggested. "Otherwise, drink."

The dwarf swallowed hard and poured another shot, sniffing it once again. "Don't get cocky. Just because you can produce drinkable poison doesn't make you an alcohol producer."

With those words, he tossed back the shot, his eyes crossing, his body swaying, and he gasped deeply as the alcohol burned the back of his throat.

"RICKARD!" Oldsman, the elderly dwarf, shouted. “What did you do?!”

Thea grabbed the bottle and took a swig, shivering and making cute squealing noises as she exhaled.

I observed her. "Hmm... how curious. Even a female beastkin can handle this without doubling over. God, you guys are pathetic. We're already ahead, drinking both ours and your stuff."

"Give me that!" Oldsman demanded, his face red as he uncorked the bottle and shivered. "If this is alcohol, then we're all good." With those words, he tilted the bottle.

Ten minutes later, everyone at the table, except for me and Thea, was extremely intoxicated. But that was expected. While we had consumed Dwarven spirits, they had consumed an industrial solvent.

"What is... hic… this stuff..." Oldsman slurred, pointing at the bottle. "It's... some good shit… hic…."

"I call it Everfog," I replied. "I want to produce and sell it with King Thrain."

"Hah!" Rickard laughed, slapping the table. “You wanna sell… hic…  with the king? Shiiiiiit. Nah. No way.”

"Why not?" Oldsman mumbled. "This stuff... in my 213 years, I've never tasted alcohol this strong. Wheeeeeeeeeew!"

“Ye. It’s strong… aright, but….” Rickard hiccuped and pointed a finger at me. “Why aren’t you… drunk? I ain’t never seen anyone but th’... th’ king drink that much without showing at least somethin’. Even the little lady is a bit feelie.”

I looked at Thea, wrapped around my bicep and rubbing her ears against my neck merrily.

Setting aside her supernatural metabolism and detoxification system—Thea was a lightweight.

I cast a glance at a group of dwarves waiting with weapons drawn in the background. Then I picked up the ethanol from the table. "That's because I'm accustomed to drinking this."

I knocked back the bottle and shivered. The performance convinced the agents, who decided it was time to intervene.

‘That's right,’ I grinned internally, seeing them approach. ‘I'm drunk and helpless. Please take me to your king while I'm vulnerable.’

“Oi! You two are comin’ with us,” the dwarves ordered. "We're taking you to see His Lordship."

"Sure thing, just give me a moment," I said, looking up. When I signaled, a beautiful silver-haired woman descended from the sky, followed by two massive guards who used wind magic to soften their landing. "These are my bodyguards."

The dwarves became apprehensive when they saw two behemoth men approaching. However, they became pale as a sheet when they saw the woman.

“L-Lady—”

“Shhhhhhhhhhh~” I put my fingers on my lips with a slight grin. “Surely you don’t want to turn this short trip into a three-way diplomatic excursion. After all, my name is King Everwood, and I'm here to discuss steel and liquor. But I might reconsider if this becomes a big fuss."

The dwarves gulped.

“Let me send word to King Thrain,” one said. “That’s a bare minimum requirement. I'll relay your request for discretion."

"Thank you," I smiled, watching them walk away.

In negotiations, being the first mover and catching the other party off guard is advantageous, depriving them of leverage and information. By showing up unannounced and following it with a demonstration rather than relying solely on my words, I put King Thrain at a significant disadvantage.

Everything worked out perfectly.

"I wonder how he'll try to throw us off guard," I chuckled as the dwarves led us to a back door guarded by four massive Dwarven guards.

What awaited us inside instantly answered my question, and King Thrain didn’t need to do a damn thing.

"This is..." My expression turned blank as I surveyed the scene. As soon as people entered the gates of Kragghammer, a massive complex of hot springs unfolded, heated by the magma from Dragon Roost. Dwarven mages worked atop the springs, creating water reservoirs that formed cascading waterfalls, where men and women clad in modern swimsuits—resembling crop tops and boy shorts for women and regular shorts for men—relaxed and enjoyed themselves, giggling and sipping from glass cups filled with spirits.

Despite the conservative look by contemporary Earthian standards, seeing noble women and merchants in such wear was risque, if not flat-out scandalous.

In the background, dwarves beat colossal drums known as Walla Drums, requiring genuine hammers to strike. The resulting bass-heavy beats combined with the ambient harmonies of the Reecamarr, similar to an Australian Didgeridoo but made of thin iron. Combined with the halo drums that created chime-like melodies, the music was trancelike and high energy, keeping blood pumping in a club-like environment.

However, instead of a club-like environment, people gathered beneath the warm glow of torches and glowstone while quartz stones hung like chandeliers over the natural hot springs, enveloping the area in steam and fostering lively, albeit sloppy, conversations amongst the men and women.

There was nothing like Kragghammer in this world or the next.

After a ten-minute wait, the dwarf apologized for the delay and led us to the dressing rooms, insisting that we try on their swimsuits as King Thrain only conducted nighttime meetings in the hot springs.

"Fine by me," I said and entered the backroom, glancing at the female dwarves.

“There’s a princess and a queen amongst you,” I announced. “Don’t try anything funny.”

"A-Are you serious?" one of them stammered, looking at Thea, who blushed brightly, and Zenith, who rolled her eyes.

I didn't dignify the woman with a response. Regardless, they should refrain from any funny business. Either way, the person they needed to fear was Thea could kill anyone here and likely would if someone tried to seduce her. That was the main problem.

And, as expected, King Thrain's attempts to catch me off guard came swiftly. A group of women entered my private changing room, which was illuminated by magical crystals adorned with mirrors and beautiful glasswork housing various spirits.

"As expected of a gangster," I sighed, watching them file in. "At least he prioritizes money over racial supremacy."

There were seven women, only two of whom were dwarves. The rest comprised two humans—one blonde, one redhead—a squirrel beastkin, a feline beastkin, and an elf.

Naturally, they were all completely naked, with steam dripping down their clean-shaven bodies, moving between their thighs.

“Greetings, King Everwood,” a blonde Dwarf, wearing Zenith cosmetics and rocking a remarkably proportionate body, relatively speaking, said, emphasizing her superficial attributes to capture my attention. "My name is Sally Krone. Which women would you like to assist you in trying on swimsuits?"

I looked at each of them up and down, appraising the situation in full, and—as if I wasn’t rock hard—I spoke the following words: “If the beastkin with me is getting this treatment, only with men, I’ll murder all of you and your children.”

The dwarf’s smile cracked in a moment, and then she glanced at my erection—valiantly pitching a tent in my pants—to ensure she wasn't hallucinating.

"These are called hormones and admiration," I clarified, examining my lower half. "My words serve as a reminder of what I mentioned earlier before you came here to seduce the king of a foreign nation."

“I-I see. Rest assured, females are assisting your women,” she gulped. “If there’s one thing that men universally disdain, it’s picturing other men with the women near them.”

“I’m relieved I’m not the only one, then,” I replied. “But please send the beastkins to double-check. If Lady Lockheart sees beautiful beastkin women come out of this room, she might murder them. She’s a bit sensitive about these things.”

The beastkin scurried off while Sally measured me and procured some swim trunks that I put on.

“King Thrain… charged us with taking you to him while we are naked,” Sally cringed at the end.

Naturally, he was trying to throw me off guard. So it made sense.

I sighed. “I’ll protect you from Lady Lockheart, so long as you maintain strict professionalism in your… blatant seduction attempts.”

Sally smiled wryly in an “I can’t wait” kind of way before we left.

As we left the room, I found Thea waiting for me, clad in a pastel pink bathing suit that accentuated her curves—something I had never seen before!

I wasn't quite sure how to react. Thea was a paragon of purity in my eyes, always donning a full-piece swimsuit that resembled a wrestler's singlet whenever we soaked in the hot springs of Elderthorn. But today, she wore a tight crop top and pink boy shorts that were so short they nearly resembled panties, exposing her thighs.

I swallowed and quickly looked away.

Fortunately, Thea didn’t notice because she fixated on Sally and an elf woman walking by my side. Her narrowed eyes conveyed an almost murderous intent, suggesting that genocide might not be sufficient to quell her raging emotions.

"They're just doing their job," I assured her. "Now, let's not fall victim to King Thrain's obvious attempts to throw us off guard."

Thea's eyes narrowed at Sally. Then she nodded, her expression resolute. "Understood."

The passage they were walking through was clearly for VIPs, having hideous nobles with model-like women playfully pushing their shoulders, giggling at their terrible jokes, and the like. I remained unaffected, not even glancing at their bodies. I refused to let King Thrain throw me off guard, and I was ultra-focused on avoiding the sight of Thea in her crop top and modest swimsuit bottom.

Thea pursed her lips at my avoidance and addressed me bluntly. "Do you like my swimsuit?"

I swallowed, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. "It’s distracting… in a good way. Now please refrain from asking such questions so we can avoid playing into King Thrain's hands."

Thea's eyes widened, and she quickly apologized. However, she couldn’t hide her trembling, excited fists or silent squeal. It made me smile and then smile wryly immediately after.

At the end of the hall stood a room with a grand wooden door, gracefully arched at the top and adorned with intricate engravings depicting tales from Dwarven lore. Positioned before it was eight guards donning regal orange armor. All of them drooled at the sight of Zenith. They’d likely eye Thea as well, but my—a king’s—arm was around her, so they didn’t even dare look at her pink swimsuit.

“Open the doors!”

Two men grasped the iron rings on the door and pulled, revealing a hot spring adorned with lush tropical plants sourced from the Valedor Rainforest, which we traversed on our journey to Illuminara for coffee and chocolate. King Thrain, a dwarf with an aura of godliness, his beard adorned with braids, sat amidst the hot spring, surrounded by women of various races, two of whom pressed their bodies against him.

Their bodies were concealed by a layer of synthetic flower petals, covering their lower halves from view within the hot spring.

"King Everwood!" King Thrain greeted with a wide grin and outstretched arms, rising from the water. "Welcome to Kragghammer."

"Pleasure to be here," I responded, gazing upon the gemstones embedded in the walls, gleaming from the illumination of imported firefly-like bugs. "There's truly nothing quite like this place."

“No, there’s not,” King Thrain agreed, briefly glancing at Sally and the other woman standing at a distance and then at Thea, whom I held firmly at the waist.

"Thalia, Eska, please assist King Everwood in finding a suitable seat," King Thrain commanded. Two elegant tiger women with white fur and black stripes on their ears emerged from the water, playfully swaying their striped tails as they approached. "As per tradition."

Thea hissed when the women approached, causing their tails to stand erect as if charged with static electricity. They grabbed my arms, begging us to unlock our bodies. I did, making Thea pout as they glided me into the seat of honor for negotiations. However, Thea subconsciously emanated a suffocating surge of magical pressure, catching King Thrain off guard. Only wizards possessed such intense magical energy! It created an awkward scene, revealing the ill-advised nature of his power play and the necessity to take my avoidance of the other women more seriously.

Tension permeated the air as Thea entered the water, seating herself beside the rightmost tigress and stewing, making the guards choke under the pressure. I took a deep breath, firmly grasped Thea's hand, and guided her onto my lap, prompting her face to flush a deep shade of crimson.

"For the sake of simplicity in this unofficial meeting, I trust you find this arrangement suitable?" I asked King Thrain. “It would simplify things for all parties.”

King Thrain nodded with a smile. "Certainly." He whispered to one of his women, and she exited the hot spring, retrieved glasses of rum for everyone, and then sat on King Thrain’s lap to return the gesture.

“I heard you brought some liquor today, King Everwood,” King Thrain smirked. “Is that true?”

"That's correct," I replied, gesturing to Ajax, who retrieved a bottle of pure white liquid and handed it to one of King Thrain's servants.

King Thrain popped the cork, and his arm hairs stood on end as he caught its scent. "What the hell is this?"

"It's 95% pure distilled alcohol," I smiled, regaining control of the negotiations.

“Bullshit,” he retorted, his eyes cold.

"I'm sure you've already witnessed the effects on your people after just four shots in ten minutes," I remarked. "I’m certain they’re puking their guts out right now."

His eyes sharpened. “How?”

"Through modern equipment and processes," I replied, placing my arm around Thea's waist and pulling her onto my thigh, causing her to suppress a squeal from the direct contact. "Today, I've brought these processes and steel recipes to trade with you."

In truth, I used Molecular Separation. However, I did have the technology.

The pressure in the room multiplied when I mentioned steel, and the man’s blood boiled. While he showed self-restraint for the sake of politics, I could tell he was twisted inside.

"You would offer this so-called 'steel'?" King Thrain asked, his tone laced with suspicion and menace.

"Yes, I would," I confirmed, sipping the ice-cold spirits. "I'd rather avoid it, but war is bad for business. Threatening your exports with improved metalworks and stronger alcohol would undoubtedly threaten your kingdom."

“You’re a rather cocky individual,” King Thrain grinned murderously. "Coming to Kragghammer and suggesting that you can produce better quality in both steel and spirits takes some stones."

His guards moved in unison, reminding me I was surrounded.

I stopped swirling the ice in my rum glass and locked eyes with him. "That's rich—coming from someone whose guards wield my swords. The same person who refuses to sample the spirits I've brought, as is customary among leaders."

King Thrain's cheek twitched as he glanced at his guards, realizing he had overlooked that detail when arranging the meeting. This was precisely why showing up unannounced for negotiations was always advantageous.

"We're discussing war, King Thrain," I stated firmly. "So stop wasting my time when I'm offering you far more value than you can offer me."

He chuckled ominously, observing the hammers carried by his guards forged from Mythril. "You speak boldly as you stare down Mythril weaponry?"

"You mean a metal you can't equip all your guards with due to its rarity?" I scoffed. "What's the value of something unattainable? Meanwhile, I'm forging pots for ordinary citizens in my city with the same metal that goes into those army swords."

King Thrain's face flushed red. "Enough of this. Tell me what you're asking for instead of continually insulting my country, or I'll go to war with you out of personal spite."

“I need you to make certain parts for me en masse,” I replied. “If you do that, I’ll give you the steel making process.”

He furrowed his brow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” I confirmed.

"What about the liquor?" King Thrain asked.

"In exchange for the liquor, you'll agree to a non-aggression pact in competition. Therefore, you'll leave my people alone as they sell metal works and liquor. In short, I'll give you everything I'm using, and then we'll have a friendly competition."

He smiled. "And if I don't agree to that?"

"I'll pillage the market and use the money to destroy Kragghammer if you attack me," I bluntly responded.

King Thrain's eyes became crazed, and he stepped forward, making Thea's mood do a 180, turning into death mode. "Do you think that you can kill me?"

"Would you like to find out?" I asked. “I don’t let people threaten me—no matter who they are.”

He stopped before Thea and me with a powerful gaze, releasing his full magical pressure. However, compared to King Redfield and King Veil, King Thrain was a joke. He was an upstart who built an empire on vice instead of power, allowing us to breathe normally.

Neither of us even blinked.

After a moment of disbelief, he chuckled in disbelief, looking at Thea's murderous glare, wondering if even she could kill him. His chuckle turned into an awkward laugh, and his laughter turned into a roar.

"I like you, kid!" King Thrain said. "Get us more shots! We're discussing business!"

***

King Thrain and I talked about steel and distilling for a solid hour before he finally got down to the awkward topic: telling him what I needed without revealing secrets.

"I primarily need something I call ball bearings," I replied, calling Ajax, reaching into my spatial bag, and materializing a ball bearing with my omnipotent tool. "This isn't all I need, but it's the most important."

He grabbed the steel piece with a strange expression, hypnotized by how perfect it was, making him shiver slightly.

"That took me forever to make, and I need two thousand of of them," I clarified.

In truth, I didn't need many ball bearings. I just needed enough to make a milling machine that would produce ball bearings with high accuracy. However, I kept that information to myself.

I was here to avoid war. Getting ball bearings, spindles, slideways, fine metalwork for lubrication systems, and bushings was a huge plus.

"What's this thing used for?" King Thrain asked.

"Something that isn't steel making or alcohol distillation," I replied.

"This is all you want for steel?" he asked. That alone made him wonder just how valuable the strange device was.

In truth, no matter how much he looked at it, it would take him decades or longer for his engineers to figure out just how important ball bearings were. They were used to reduce friction, allowing metal parts to move smoothly for precision movement, which is important for load distribution to prevent wear and enable high-speed operation.

Put simply: ball bearings were the secret ingredient for interchangeable parts.

They were valuable—far more valuable for a process King Thrain would steal in the next year due to our non-guild approach to running businesses.

"These will be challenging to make," King Thrain frowned.

"But can you make them?" I asked.

He snorted. "Of course we can."

“Then we have a deal?” I asked.

"How do I know that you won't renege on your promise of steel output?" King Thrain asked.

"You have to make those in steel," I replied. "That's a necessity."

Iron isn't as hard as steel, so making them out of iron would cause increased wear and quick deformation of the bearing surfaces. They would also be prone to rust and increase friction, reducing precision and lowering load-carrying capacity, defeating the purpose of creating ball bearings.

"You're telling me that we have to make something difficult with a new process?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Steel is a variation of iron. You'll be fine." That was my only explanation.

"You have a deal with the steel," King Thrain said.

The moment he announced I had achieved my full asking amount, Thea silently squealed, and her tail played around, subconsciously wrapping around my chest and making me swallow.

Then we sent to work negotiating a non-aggression pact. At first, he insisted that we create territories, but I mentioned that his buyers would protest if their competitors could get my steel or vice versa. However, I offered to continue giving him technology until he was competitive to prevent war. That was the point.

"I'm offering you a partnership, King Thrain," I said. "So I'd consider it."

King Thrain narrowed his eyes. "It is as they say. You ain't a normal kid, but you're not a demon lord either. So what the hell are you?"

"Someone with a long track record of turning water into wine, clay into fertile ground, and banal commodities into gold," I replied. "Who or what I am is irrelevant as long as you're rich and prosperous instead of my enemy."

He smiled and thought about it. "I'll make these 'ball bearings' for you in exchange for steel. After that, if you uphold your end, then I'll give you a test. If you pass, I'll enter this so-called 'partnership' with you. Is there anything else?"

“There is, actually,” I replied. “There’s something that I want to commission from Mythril.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

After hearing me out, he laughed due to the simplicity and said he’d do it for a stupid amount of money, and I agreed, shocking him.

"That’s enough for tonight," I said, lifting Thea off my body and making her pout. "Please take me to a room, and I'll start teaching your people tomorrow. A room without women."

Thea looked away from me as we went down the hall, and I was also embarrassed from being so bare near each other. However, it wasn't uncomfortable.

That made me wonder what would happen when Aphrodite healed my emotions.

I cringed and looked at my status window, something I hadn't done for a long time.

—

Unique usages: (991/1,000)

—

A wave of dread washed over me, mixing with anxiety and fear. However, it wasn't all bad, either. It was just fear of the unknown.

I instinctively grabbed Thea's hand and squeezed it like I did while nonchalantly easing her anxiety. This was my way of saying: I'll be with you forever and keep you safe, so don't worry. However, this time was different. Instead of easing her anxiety, I was subconsciously easing my own, and that genuine emotional connection made her eyes widen, and her breath disappear.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

Thea shook her head with overwhelming emotions. "I'm very happy."

“Okay.” I nodded and squeezed her hand, walking down the hall to her room before releasing it.

***

The next morning, I felt much better, kneaded Thea's ears as usual, and had a hearty breakfast in Kragghammer. The real city was far more impressive, sporting a large cave with a 100-foot arched ceiling supported by large iron beams that ensured it wouldn't collapse. The buildings were made from clay but also supported iron support architecture, allowing them to be three stories tall.

Unsurprisingly, they had modern glass windows, which seemed natural for people who lived by the forge.

Thousands of these buildings were built up like a quaint town built around modern apartment complexes meant for rich, Earthian elites. Dwarves bustled through the area, going to markets and meeting with people at large fountains. State-sponsored musicians played drum beats around the clock to give the city a buzzing vibe.

Most people worked in the iron industry, so men and women lifted large steel pieces, swords, and other goods from a large hallway that got increasingly hot as we walked through it.

The direction we were moving in?

“Don’t tell me that you’re using magma from Dragon’s Roost as your forge,” I sighed.

"Bingo," King Thrain said. "Because of the high heat, we can remove more impurities from our iron than anyone else, making it stronger and cleaner."

"Let me show you why you can't compete," King Thrain smiled, opening a large wooden door and exposing Thea, Zenith, Ajax, Graken, and me to extreme heat.

The room had a hellish glow from magma rolling through the area, hidden behind massive metal structures, as sweating dwarves struck metal rhythmically to drumbeats.

"How many people die here annually?" I frowned.

King Thrain huffed. "Less than 2%."

I rolled my eyes at the blatant lie. "What are those metal machines you're using as forges?"

"Magma is tapped and goes through rock tunnels we built, cooling down significantly before pooling in our forges as the heat source," King Thrain said.

I opened my mouth and shut it.

"Combined with our bellows system, it's the only way to melt Mythril," he rolled his eyes.

I took a deep breath.

Magma ranges between 1,100 to 1,300 degrees Celsius (2,000 to 2,400 degrees Fahrenheit), whereas a blast furnace ranges from 1,200 to 1,600 degrees Celsius (2,200 to 2,900 degrees Fahrenheit).

In short, my blast furnaces were hotter than their magma.

Even putting magma in a blast furnace would have a significantly lower temperature than a blast furnace because there was less airflow, and the chemical composition of blast furnaces requires certain materials and gases to achieve high heat, none of which are created by molten rock.

I’m surprised it produced quality iron at all. They must use a special type of flux to protect the iron from impurities.

Either way, it was a disaster. However, I needed the ball bearings, so I hardened my expression.

"Okay, let me explain how steel works," I announced after the tour, entering a cool room and addressing the head blacksmiths. Then I went into a lecture about how to make steel.

The secret sauce to steel production is creating coke, which involves heating coal to high temperatures in the absence of oxygen, thereby carbonizing it.

Once someone has coke, they forge iron with it instead of coal, resulting in pig iron.

The pig iron then undergoes refining, blowing oxygen into the molten metal to oxidize it and remove impurities. This process is known as the Bessemer Process, named after Sir Henry Bessemer in the 19th century, illustrating the advanced nature of steel production.

That's it. Smelt iron in coke instead of coal, then introduce oxygen to refine it and remove impurities. Steel.

The Dwarves were stunned when I presented them with steel objects, demonstrating the significant advantages over iron. It was so simple.

After concluding the lecture, I supervised the coking process and spent three days with them, teaching them how to produce steel.

On the third day, we achieved success, and everyone celebrated wildly, pleasing King Thrain, who took a liking to me for my open approach. While he would typically consider someone like me paranoid, my track record and substantial wealth revealed that I wasn't just crazy.

Four days in, we began working on ball bearings.

Ball bearings are not particularly difficult to manufacture. However, they require extreme refinement and uniformity to ensure functionality.

The Dwarven blacksmiths crafted the outer ring of the ball bearing through turning. They shaped the steel into a precise circular ring using a specialized tool and meticulously sanded it to achieve a smooth and uniform finish.

They then repeated the process to create the inner ring, which had a smaller diameter. Once the two rings were ready, tiny balls were inserted between them.

Manufacturing the balls proved to be the most challenging part. In modern machining, steel is cut using a die, heated, shaped, and ground down to precise and uniform dimensions. However, Carter did not have the time, patience, or perseverance to create uniform balls. Instead, Dwarven women in a large factory-sized room stood with sandpaper, grinding them down and testing their fluidity and uniformity, removing thousands of defective ones that became too small. Combined with the heat, it resembled a legitimate sweatshop.

Perfect.

Assembling ball bearings involved placing the balls between the inner and outer rings, held in position by retainers or cages during operation.

Once the assembly was complete, the ball bearings underwent heat treatment to enhance their strength and resistance to wear. These processes, known as quenching and tempering, were customary in blacksmithing and posed no difficulty.

Finally, the Dwarven women smoothed them down with sandpaper for the finishing touch and applied a "trade secret" lubricant, which was quite impressive. Naturally, I intended to create commercial lubricants, but it was still fascinating. It made me wonder how I could utilize magical trees and minerals to create new and exciting things in the nearly 84 years I had left.

Two weeks later, I had 2,000 ball bearings, an anti-aggression pact, and a special item I had ordered: a Mythril cutter for a threading machine that would become the standard for all threading machines worldwide.

Finally, I had everything I needed to create machining equipment and trigger a full-blown industrial revolution.

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[A/N: Read the disclaimer on unfiltered chapters. The unfiltered version has extremely heavy sexual tension, humor, and romantic development that I decided to cut out. So if you're about that life, sign up for the new tier. If not, just prepare for new chapters. I'm writing as fast as possible and just finished 11k words here, hence the delay.

Reading unfiltered is far more vibrant. However, while I never write controversial or taboo content, I cut things out for a reason. Therefore, make sure you read the announcement on unfiltered chapters before you consider signing up for the tier.

Thanks for reading!]