"With careful movements, they pulled the bowl from the fire. The mass inside had turned thick and fluid, viscous like molten metal.
They reached for old casting molds that still lay in the workshop.
Zaun chose a long, narrow shape, almost like a bar.
Garett took a flatter, wider form.
Slowly, with full concentration, they let the glowing material flow into them.
No one spoke.
Everyone simply stared at what was forming.
With every passing second, the mass cooled further. The red darkened. Then faded.
The two masters weren't sure whether to cool it quickly or simply let it rest. Uncertain, they glanced at Lares—but their eyes returned to the molds at once.
And then they turned pale.
Before their eyes, the liquid stone became a solid, smooth surface.
And it was… transparent.
Not perfectly clear.
Not yet.
But one could see through it.
Zaun carefully lifted the mold and stared at it as if he didn't trust his own eyes.
"This… is no longer stone," he whispered.
Garett ran his hand carefully over the surface.
"This is something entirely new."
Lares stood still for a moment, looking at the result.
His gaze rested on the still-warm, faintly transparent material in the molds.
And for the first time, he truly looked proud.
"My friends," he said quietly, warmth clearly in his voice,
"this… is glass."
He looked from one to the other.
"And together with concrete, it will take us further than all the ore ever could."
He paused for a moment.
"Do you understand now what I meant? What possibilities this opens in construction?"
His eyes shone.
"And I would wager I haven't even understood a tenth of what can be done with it."
The workshop was silent.
Everyone nodded slowly.
No one knew what to say.
They had just watched dust and sand become something none of them had ever seen before. Something that could change walls, change houses—perhaps even change entire cities.
And suddenly, they understood:
This moment… could change the world.
And they were standing right in the middle of it.
Then, from outside, they heard footsteps.
Many footsteps.
Voices.
The stamping of animals.
More workers had arrived.
Lares turned toward the door.
"That must be Sebastian and the others," he said quietly. "I'll go receive them."
The masters and their apprentices were still gathered around the glass, completely absorbed. They touched it carefully, studied it, held it up to the light.
At least the bar could already be held.
And then, on his way out, it happened.
Lares caught his foot on the edge of the floor.
He stumbled.
And in doing so, he knocked the flat glass mold from Garett's hand.
With a bright, sharp sound, it hit the still-fresh concrete and shattered into a thousand pieces.
For a moment, everyone held their breath.
The large, muscular man—Kalle—reacted instantly and caught Lares before he could fall himself.
But this time, there was no mockery.
No laughter.
No sarcastic remark.
The man let him go and stepped back.
There was only respect in his eyes now.
Deep, honest recognition.
In his eyes, this young lord had just created something that felt like a miracle. Without great spells. Without battle. Only with his mind.
And for the first time, the big, strong man felt small.