The following morning began with pain.
Specifically—
Back pain.
Arm pain.
Leg pain.
And whatever kind of pain ca from carrying several hundred pounds worth of stone, wood, and tal through a forest.
Finn stumbled forward carrying a thick plank over his shoulder while looking monts away from collapse.
"I miss being unemployed," he groaned.
"You were holess."
"...I miss being holess."
I ignored him and continued sketching asurents across my notebook while standing beside the riverbank.
The river itself flowed steadily through the forest just beyond the clearing near the shack. The current wasn’t massive, but it was more than strong enough for what I needed.
A waterwheel.
Simple.
Efficient.
And most importantly—
It never got tired.
Unlike us.
I pointed toward a section of the river.
"We’ll build it there."
Finn looked at the water before narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"You do know what you’re doing, right?"
"...Mostly."
"That’s the exact answer people give before disasters happen."
Despite his complaints, however, Finn still followed along.
By midday, construction had officially begun.
And imdiately turned into chaos.
"NO, NOT THAT WAY!"
Finn froze while holding an incorrectly angled support beam.
"How was I supposed to know?!"
"Because I literally explained it ten seconds ago!"
"You used words like structural integrity!"
"That is a normal phrase!"
"It absolutely is not!"
I rubbed my forehead in frustration before repositioning the beam myself.
The basic design itself was simple enough.
A large wooden wheel positioned partially within the river current.
The flowing water would rotate the wheel continuously.
That rotational motion would then transfer through a crude gear system connected to a long wooden arm.
The arm would repeatedly compress and release the bloory bellows automatically.
Infinite airflow.
Infinite fire.
Infinite steel production.
Well...
Assuming the thing didn’t collapse.
Which, admittedly, remained a possibility.
Most of the day was spent cutting wood and assembling the main wheel structure.
Finn turned out to be surprisingly useful during physical labor.
Mostly because I discovered threatening to explain advanced engineering concepts dramatically increased his work speed.
"Lift the beam."
"No."
"I’ll explain fluid dynamics again."
"...I hate you."
By late afternoon, the wheel had finally begun taking shape.
Several thick wooden paddles extended from the circular fra while reinforced supports anchored the structure against the riverbank.
It looked terrible.
Crooked.
Rough.
Held together partially by hope and copper nails.
But as the river pushed lightly against the paddles, the wheel shifted slightly.
Then rotated.
Just a little.
Finn’s eyes widened.
"...It moved."
I grinned.
"Oh, we’re making progress now."
The next problem, however, proved far more difficult.
Gears.
Or more accurately—
Primitive wooden gears made by two exhausted thirteen-year-olds in the middle of a forest.
"This one’s uneven," Finn pointed out.
"They’re all uneven."
"That feels concerning."
"It builds character."
"That sentence is becoming a red flag."
After nearly an hour of carving wooden teeth into circular boards, we finally connected the first crude gear system beside the wheel.
The mont of truth had arrived.
Finn stepped backward nervously.
"...You sure this won’t kill us?"
"No."
"Fantastic."
Slowly, the river current pushed against the wheel again.
The paddles turned.
The wheel rotated.
The first gear shifted.
Then the second.
Then—
CLACK!
The entire chanism jamd violently before one of the wooden teeth snapped clean off and launched directly into Finn’s forehead.
"OW!"
I imdiately burst out laughing.
Finn held his forehead in outrage.
"You almost killed !"
"You’re fine!"
"I got attacked by wood!"
Still laughing slightly, I walked over to inspect the damage.
The alignnt was wrong.
The gears needed smoother contact.
Less friction.
More spacing.
Honestly, it would have been easier with proper tal tools and machining equipnt.
Unfortunately—
I currently lived in a dieval forest.
So crude experintation it was.
The two of us spent the next several hours continuously adjusting the chanism.
Fixing spacing.
Replacing broken pieces.
Hamring supports back into place.
At one point, the entire wheel partially detached and nearly dragged Finn into the river.
"I QUIT!" he scread while clinging desperately to a support beam.
"You can’t quit!"
"WATCH !"
Eventually, however—
As the sun slowly began setting behind the trees—
It finally worked.
The river current pushed against the wheel.
The wheel rotated smoothly.
The gears turned.
And the long wooden arm connected to the bloory bellows began moving back and forth rhythmically.
HSSSHH.
HSSSHH.
HSSSHH.
Constant airflow.
Perfect airflow.
Without either of us touching a thing.
Finn stared blankly at the moving chanism.
"...It’s doing the work by itself."
I slowly grinned while staring at the rotating wheel.
The sound of the automated bellows echoed softly throughout the clearing like the heartbeat of sothing far larger being born.
"Welco," I said quietly, "to automation."
For a long mont, neither of us spoke.
The river continued turning the wheel endlessly beside us while the evening breeze drifted through the forest.
And standing there watching that crude machine operate beneath the setting sun—
I realized sothing.
This tiny shack in the middle of nowhere...
Might eventually beco the birthplace of an entirely new era.
The sky had already begun darkening by the ti I finally decided to head back to the manor.
Finn remained near the river adjusting one of the supports on the waterwheel while muttering insults toward the entire concept of engineering.
"You live here now," I reminded him while gathering my notebook and tools together.
Finn looked up from the chanism.
"Unfortunately."
"You’ll survive."
"Debatable."
I smirked slightly before slinging my bag over my shoulder.
Despite all the failures and near disasters, seeing the waterwheel functioning beside the bloory filled with excitent.
It worked.
A real automated machine.
Primitive, crude, and ugly—
But real.
"Don’t burn the shack down while I’m gone," I warned.
Finn crossed his arms.
"Don’t accidentally industrialize the kingdom without ."
"No promises."
With that, I finally left the clearing and began making my way back through the forest toward the Aldric Manor.
Unfortunately...
The mont I stepped through the manor doors, I imdiately realized I looked terrible.
Mud covered my trousers and sleeves while dirt streaked across my face. My hair was a ss, and one sleeve had partially burned earlier while working near the furnace.
Several servants stared at in concern as I walked inside.
Then—
"Leon?"
Uh oh.
Mother stood near the hallway entrance holding a book in one hand.
And judging by the expression on her face—
I was about to get interrogated.
Her eyes slowly scanned my appearance.
"...Why do you look like you survived a war?"
"I tripped."
"You’ve apparently been tripping every single day."
Damn.
Mother walked closer before brushing dirt off my shoulder with visible concern.
"Leon, what exactly have you been doing outside the manor lately?" she asked carefully. "You leave every morning and return covered in dirt and soot."
I awkwardly looked away.
"I’ve just been... working on sothing."
Mother narrowed her eyes slightly.
"That explanation sohow worries more."
Fair.
I definitely couldn’t explain the truth.
’Oh yes Mother, I’m currently beginning the industrial revolution in the woods with my holess assistant.’
That conversation would probably end badly.
So instead, I gave the safest answer possible.
"It’s a hobby project."
Mother stared at silently for several seconds.
"...A hobby should not make you look like you fought a dragon."
"I’m very dedicated."
She sighed deeply before pinching the bridge of her nose.
"You sound exactly like your father whenever he’s about to do sothing dangerous."
That honestly explained a lot about my family.
Still, despite her concern, Mother eventually softened slightly.
"Just... be careful, alright?"
I gave her a small nod.
"I will."
Though internally—
I absolutely would not.
Because tomorrow, we were finally making steel.
Real steel.
————
The next morning, I rushed back toward the shack almost imdiately after breakfast.
The mont I entered the clearing, I spotted Finn asleep beside the waterwheel while holding a hamr against his chest like so kind of exhausted warrior.
The wheel itself still rotated steadily within the river current.
HSSSHH.
HSSSHH.
HSSSHH.
The automated bellows continued pumping air into the bloory flawlessly.
Beautiful.
"Wake up."
Finn groaned without opening his eyes.
"...Tell death to co back later."
"We’re making steel today."
His eyes instantly snapped open.
"...Oh."
Ten minutes later, the bloory roared back to life.
This ti, however—
Everything felt different.
The bellows continuously pumped air into the furnace without either of us lifting a finger.
The fire burned hotter.
Stronger.
Steadier.
Exactly what I wanted.
Finn stared at the moving bellows with pure admiration.
"I think I love that wheel."
"It loves you too."
Layer by layer, we fed charcoal and iron ore into the furnace while carefully monitoring the heat.
The roaring flas glowed bright orange beneath the constant airflow while sparks erupted upward into the air.
Sweat poured down my face from the intense heat, but unlike last ti—
Neither of us collapsed from exhaustion.
Hours passed slowly.
The furnace continued roaring steadily.
And eventually—
It was ready.
Carefully, we broke apart part of the furnace opening and peered inside.
There—
Resting amongst burning charcoal and slag—
Was a glowing mass of tal.
Finn’s eyes widened.
"...Is that it?"
I slowly reached forward with tal tongs before dragging the heated bloom free from the furnace.
The glowing lump hit the stone platform heavily with a shower of sparks.
It looked rough.
Impure.
Covered in slag.
But underneath all of that—
Steel.
Real steel.
A grin slowly spread across my face.
"We did it."
Finn stared at the glowing tal in awe.
"...We actually did it."
The excitent surging through my chest was indescribable.
Because this wasn’t just steel.
This was the first true step toward everything else.
Toward engines.
Factories.
Firearms.
Machines.
Progress.
I grabbed the hamr and looked toward Finn.
"Alright."
Finn blinked.
"...What now?"
I raised the hamr with a grin.
"Now we beat the impurities out of it."
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