“The Guild sent a little girl like you?” In the Anvil Workshop, Foreman Grum’s voice held undisguised doubt. “Don’t go burning yourself on the furnace!”
“I’ve studied Rune Application, I understand this.” Villanelle raised her voice, trying to overpower the noisy background. “Even if I truly can’t do it, you won’t be at any loss.”
After completing the commission about the strange night noises, she had taken on another one from a steel workshop on the city’s outskirts. The issue was that the workshop’s No. 2 furnace had recently become unstable, causing defects in components for two batches of orders.
The workshop had already tried replacing some standard parts, but it still didn’t work. They suspected a problem with the Rune plate and needed someone with a basic understanding of Runes to help diagnose the issue.
Villanelle felt her grades in Rune Application were quite good, so she took the commission. The reward was decent too: twelve silver coins.
It was just rather hot.
But fortunately, Ignis in her backpack indicated he could still handle it.
Grum muttered things like “wasting time,” but still led her to a corner of the workshop where a shut-down furnace stood quietly.
The furnace seemed like it hadn’t been used for a long time.
“This one, No. 2 furnace. It was fine before, but in the last half-month, it’s gone crazy. The firepower fluctuates wildly, adjusting with the temperature control wrench doesn’t help, and everything it produces fails to meet standards.”
Grum wiped his face, sweat and furnace soot mixing into mud on his skin.
He picked up an iron pry bar, levered open a protective cover on the side rear of the furnace, revealing a dark metal plate embedded within complex grooves inside.
The metal plate was about the size of two palms, etched with interwoven red lines forming a combination of basic Runes for temperature control, heat concentration, and stabilization.
This was one of the furnace’s “heart” components—the thermal control Rune plate.
“See, this Rune plate. No breaks, no cracks, the circuits are intact. Even had old Randolph from the next street over look at it a few days ago, but just couldn’t find the problem.”
He carefully detached the heavy Rune plate and handed it to Villanelle.
She took it with both hands, walked to the window, and examined it under the incoming light, catching the cool breeze outside as well.
The Rune plate was indeed intact as Foreman Grum had said. The lines were complete and unobstructed. At first glance, there really seemed to be no issue.
If the naked eye couldn’t see it, then activate the Runes to check.
So, Villanelle ran her fingers over the line grooves, attempting to channel Mana into the Runes, sensing the flow of Mana along the predetermined pathways.
No need to worry about burns; this Rune plate only served as a control hub. Separated from the furnace body, it couldn’t do anything.
Soon, she detected a slight anomaly.
As Mana flowed through certain segments of the Runes, Villanelle suddenly sensed a distinct feeling of blockage, as if friction had suddenly increased. The strand of Mana she was guiding could barely move.
“Found the problem.” Villanelle put down the metal plate and turned to Grum, who was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground behind her.
“Really? What’s the cause?” Grum was half-convinced, half-doubting.
“The Mana inertia of this Rune plate… the Mana flow is very unsmooth. The material has likely undergone some kind of passivation.”
Villanelle changed her wording mid-sentence, worried the foreman wouldn’t understand academic terms.
“The material has undergone passivation…” Foreman Grum frowned, deep in thought.
“You said this Rune plate was previously intact, showing no abnormalities, and the problem only appeared recently. So…” Villanelle chose her words carefully, “Please think, has anything unusual or different from normal happened in the workshop during this period?”
“Yes.” Grum suddenly remembered something, his eyes widening. He immediately turned his head and shouted to a craftsman not far away, “Carl, get over here! I need to ask you something!”
“What is it, boss?”
Carl was a bald man around forty years old. Hearing the call, he hurried over.
“Did our workshop recently get a batch of new type of flux?” Grum asked in his booming voice.
“Yeah, boss. Came from Whitewater Town just over half a month ago. Works pretty well.” Carl looked completely confused. “Why ask about that all of a sudden?”
Grum’s face darkened. “It’s nothing. Go back to work.”
Carl looked at him, then at Villanelle standing quietly to the side, scratched his head, and returned to his workstation.
“So you’re saying that new batch of stuff not only didn’t help but actually ruined the furnace’s Rune plate?” After Carl left, Grum immediately confirmed in a low voice.
“Yes, though it’s not necessarily ruined. It might have contaminated the Rune plate, causing its responsiveness to Mana to weaken.” Villanelle explained. “The simplest solution is to replace it and stop using that flux.”
“Replace it?” Grum seemed to wince at the thought. “That’s not cheap… Can’t it be repaired?”
“If you insist on repairing it, it might be possible, but the cost might be enough to buy a new one.” Villanelle thought for a moment and handed the Rune plate back to him.
Grum took the plate, his face ashen.
“Damn it, what crap are those alchemists from Whitewater Town selling!” He cursed, tossing the Rune plate beside the furnace. Turning to Villanelle, his expression softened considerably. “Alright, little lady, well done. I underestimated you.”
Grum took out his coin purse, counted out twelve silver coins, and handed them to her. He thought for a moment, then counted out eight more. “Take it. Thanks for your help… If not for you, we might have had a few more furnaces scrapped. Next time you come, I’ll buy you a drink!”
“Thank you for your kindness, but I’ll only take what I’m owed…” Villanelle hurriedly declined.
“Take it!” Grum insisted, stuffing the coins into her hand. “This is what you’re owed.”
Villanelle had no choice but to accept.
Leaving the Anvil Workshop, the scorching air and metallic noise were left behind. The air suddenly turned cold.
Villanelle weighed the twenty new silver coins in her purse, carrying the scent of smoke and sweat. She walked back along the rutted streets of the craftsmen’s district, planning to find any shop to solve her lunch problem.
“That Rune plate made me feel a bit uncomfortable.” Ignis’s voice sounded.
“Why uncomfortable?” Villanelle tensed up, her steps unconsciously halting.
Ignis spoke vaguely. “I’m not sure either. There’s something on it that makes me feel very uneasy.”
“Was it the passivated Rune plate itself, or the flux that caused the passivation?”
“I suspect it’s the flux.”
As she passed by a small, packed eatery where even the few wooden tables outside had no empty seats, the loud conversation of several craftsmen caught Villanelle’s attention.
“That batch of ‘Blue Flame’ flux from Whitewater Town, I got some last month too. Cheap and plentiful, but it just doesn’t feel right…”
“Who knows what those alchemists put in it… To rush orders and take on more work, they’d probably dare to add anything, right?”
“Hey, let me tell you, my cousin went to Whitewater Town to pick up goods recently. When he came back, he said that place is really weird!”
“How so?”
Villanelle stopped, standing in the shade of a large street tree, quietly listening to their conversation.
“The people in the town, their eyes are all bright, constantly muttering about formulas, production output, and such. It’s like they’re possessed by demons. That old forest by the edge of town, you used to be able to go in to gather firewood or cut some trees, but not anymore. The bugs are terrifyingly numerous now…”
The man took a sip of soup, moistening his throat, then continued. “My cousin said it feels like the whole town is steeped in a kind ofç‹‚çƒ atmosphere, as if the only thing to do is make potions and sell them for money…”
The table fell quiet for a few seconds, followed by a low murmur of agreement.
Villanelle didn’t listen further. She quickly walked away with her backpack.
Gossip was just for listening. Right now, the most important thing was lunch.