It had been 2 days since then.
All the necessary materials for the completion of the engine were now in place.
The forge was filled with the clanging of hammers, the hiss of steam, and the crackling of fire.
The dwarves worked, their faces streaked with soot, hands steady as they tightened bolts, adjusted gears, and polished the metallic surfaces of the engine.
The large contraption—stood on its side, massive yet complex, its many parts now coming together.
Arkanos stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on the scene before him with a small smile.
The dwarf workers paid him no mind, focused entirely on their tasks.
A loud clang rang through the air as a hammer struck a final nail into place.
Grundar Ironmaul, the head of the forge, stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked up at Arkanos, his voice gruff.
"It's done, Your Majesty."