By the sixth day, the forge no longer felt like the same place.
It was louder, hotter, and far more organized. The scattered tools from the first day were now arranged in fixed positions. Buckets of water stood where they were needed, tongs were placed within arm's reach of the anvil, and coal was stacked close enough that no one had to leave their station for long. The fire never went out anymore. It burned day and night, steady and controlled.
Nine hundred iron ingots.
They were stacked along the far wall in neat rows, each one shaped cleanly, each one consistent. The pile had grown so large that it took up almost half the space in the forge. On the first day, even making ten had felt like work. Now, they moved through dozens like it was routine.
It hadn't been easy.
