The first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of amber and crimson, illuminating the Ironworks in a soft, surreal glow. Kalem stood in the forge, tightening the straps on his Focus Core chest plate. Its intricate design hummed faintly with latent energy, resonating with the weapons he had meticulously prepared for the day.
He reached for his arsenal, securing each piece with practiced precision. His axe and longsword crossed on his back, their sheaths snug against the hardened leather straps. A standard sword and a flail hung at his waist, balanced for quick access. Finally, he took his spear in hand—a sturdy, streamlined weapon designed for both precision and power.
"That's a lot of steel you're carrying, lad," Tharic remarked from the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk on his weathered face.
Kalem glanced over, the weight of his gear a reassuring presence. "I'd rather be over-prepared than caught off guard."
Tharic nodded approvingly. "Fair enough. Just remember, Galgameth aren't your average beasts. Keep your distance when you can. Their tails are like battering rams, and their claws can shear through stone like parchment."
Kalem hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the exit. "I need to see them for myself, Tharic. I've heard the stories, but I can't prepare for the Season of Fire properly without understanding what we're up against."
"That's the spirit," Tharic said, though his tone carried a hint of worry. "Just don't do anything reckless. If you're not back by nightfall, I'm coming after you."
Kalem smiled faintly, giving a small wave as he headed toward the gates of the Ironworks.
The valley stretched before him, its rugged terrain bathed in the warm light of morning. In the distance, faint tremors rumbled beneath his feet, a reminder that the Galgameth were already stirring. Kalem's grip tightened on his spear as he followed the faint tracks leading toward the feeding grounds.
The path was littered with signs of destruction: fractured boulders, uprooted trees, and deep gouges in the earth. As he climbed over a ridge, the scene ahead took his breath away.
A group of Galgameth—massive, lizard-like creatures the size of small houses—moved sluggishly across the valley floor. Their scales gleamed like molten metal, rippling in the sunlight as they devoured chunks of exposed ore from the cliffsides. Their movements were almost hypnotic, tails swaying as they tore through the rock with their powerful jaws.
Kalem crouched low, observing them from a safe distance. For all their size, the Galgameth were eerily quiet. The only sounds were the crunch of stone and the occasional low rumble, like distant thunder.
One of the creatures reared up on its hind legs, its claws raking against the cliff face to dislodge a cluster of exposed minerals. The impact sent a cascade of debris tumbling down, shaking the ground beneath Kalem's feet.
He steadied himself, his mind racing. "So, this is what they're like," he murmured. "Massive, relentless, and... strange."
But as he continued to watch, he noticed something else—something unnerving. The Galgameth weren't just feeding; their movements seemed erratic, almost frantic. Their normally docile nature, as described by Tharic and Vornar, was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, a piercing screech echoed across the valley, and Kalem's heart skipped a beat. One of the Galgameth had turned its attention toward him, its molten eyes locking onto his position.
"Of course," he muttered, rising to his feet and gripping his spear.
The beast charged, its massive claws tearing into the ground with each thunderous step. Kalem braced himself, adrenaline surging through his veins.
"Time to see if all this preparation was worth it," he said under his breath, shifting into a ready stance as the Galgameth bore down on him.
Kalem's spear met the creature's charge with precision. He lunged forward, striking the beast's side where its scales were thinner. The spearhead sank in, but only barely. The Galgameth roared, swinging its massive tail in retaliation.
Kalem dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the tail's devastating sweep. The ground where he'd stood moments before was reduced to a crater, dirt and rock flying in all directions.
"Alright, you're tougher than I thought," Kalem muttered, drawing his standard sword. He moved quickly, striking at the creature's exposed flank. Each swing of his blade sparked against its metallic scales, but he was learning. The thinner scales near its joints and underbelly were his best bet.
The Galgameth retaliated with a swipe of its claw, forcing Kalem to backpedal. He could feel the Focus Core's energy amplifying his movements, granting him the speed and strength he needed to keep up.
Minutes felt like hours as the battle raged on. Kalem used every weapon in his arsenal, switching between his flail for blunt strikes and his axe for cleaving blows. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Galgameth staggered, its movements sluggish from exhaustion.
Kalem stepped back, breathing heavily. He didn't need to kill it—that wasn't his goal. He'd learned enough.
As the beast lumbered away, retreating toward the safety of its herd, Kalem collapsed to one knee, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Returning to the Ironworks was a slower journey than he'd planned. The weight of the fight and the enormity of the Season of Fire pressed heavily on his shoulders. When he finally arrived at the gates, Tharic and Vornar were waiting for him, their expressions a mixture of relief and expectation.
"Well?" Vornar asked, crossing his arms.
Kalem straightened, meeting his mentor's gaze. "They're massive. Powerful. And worse, they're not acting like you said they would. Something's off. It's like they're already in a frenzy."
Vornar's brow furrowed. "That's not good. If they're frantic now, it means the Lava Worms are closer to waking than we thought."
Tharic swore under his breath. "Then we don't have much time. We need to fortify the Ironworks and prepare for the worst."
Kalem nodded, his grip tightening on his spear. "I'll help. Whatever it takes."
Vornar clapped him on the shoulder. "You did well today, Kalem. But this is just the beginning. The real storm is yet to come."
Kalem glanced back toward the valley, the distant forms of the Galgameth still etched in his mind. The Season of Fire had truly begun.