Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Brand-New Suit of Armor

"Something extraordinary?"

Having heard Muradin's description, Arthas immediately felt something was amiss. "Can you disclose exactly what this thing is?"

Muradin wasn't sure why Arthas was interested, but he replied casually, "People say it's an ancient ruin. Who knows what's actually there? We just think there might be gold and treasures. Do you want to come with us?"

"I don't think I have the time. You know, my father always keeps me busy with so many tasks," Arthas waved his hand helplessly. "But if you are going, you had better watch your safety. Northrend is a very dangerous place."

"I know that well enough. I've been on more adventures than you could ever imagine."

Finally having dried his beard, Muradin took a tray out of the oven by the fireplace. "Come, taste my secret-recipe cupcakes! I added some specialty honey to these!"

Brann reached out with lightning speed, grabbing one and stuffing it into his mouth—although his older brother was a renowned adventurer and warrior, he actually had a hidden hobby: cooking. Especially when it came to the cakes Muradin loved, he had sought out many master chefs to refine his techniques.

Jaina looked at the somewhat rough-looking cakes, hesitant to try one. Arthas said to the mage, "Muradin's craft is quite good. Just taste it and you'll see."

"Hey, my oven at home is too primitive to bake the delicate pastries you girls like, but I’m still very confident in the flavor!"

After one bite, Jaina realized Muradin wasn't bragging. This seemingly ordinary honey cake was more delicious than anything she had eaten at the royal banquets in Stormwind.

Arthas took one himself and continued chatting with Muradin while eating: "When will you have time to help me forge a new set of armor?"

"Anytime, lad!" Muradin poured himself a drink and asked Arthas, "Do you want some?"

"I don't have the habit of pairing cake with dwarven spirits."

Arthas declined quickly. He wasn't a dwarf, and he couldn't handle the strange quirk of pairing desserts with hard liquor. Brann, on the other hand, held up an empty cup. "Give me a glass."

"Wait until I can talk to Magni; we'll just find a time to use the Great Anvil," Muradin took a deep draft of the spirit. "Whoo! *Hiccup!* Do you only want a suit of armor?"

"Yes, but a full set."

A good suit of armor is your second life on the battlefield. After all, not every enemy is a powerhouse like Kharaz, capable of easily tearing through both Holy Light and armor.

"A full set—that’s going to require a lot of materials," Muradin smacked his lips. "Do you have enough?"

"Of course. I think there might even be enough to craft a shield as well."

Arthas tossed his dimensional pouch onto the table. Muradin set down his glass, picked it up, and opened it. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Whoa! Good heavens! Did you rob the Dark Iron scum's stock?"

"Not exactly. Didn't you see those Thorium bars engraved with ancient elven patterns?"

Muradin wiped his cake-stained hands on his clothes, took out a fine Thorium bar from the pouch, placed it on the table, and praised it. "The quality is excellent. This is high-grade stuff smelted with magic; I can still feel the mana within the metal."

"Although the elves' forging techniques aren't as good as ours, they do have some tricks up their sleeves when it comes to metal smelting." Brann leaned in to examine the pristine ancient Thorium bar. "Tsk, this is practically a work of art. It could be displayed in a museum."

Muradin tallied the amount of metal and said to Arthas, "Nice, this is more than enough to forge you a brand new set of gear."

The dwarf then looked at Jaina. "Lass, can you handle the enchanting?"

Jaina nodded confidently; she trusted her enchanting skills. Even if she couldn't claim to be better than the grandmasters, she was certainly far superior to the random enchanters the dwarven smiths usually hired.

"Then I'll leave it to you, Muradin."

After tidying up a bit, Muradin took the materials Arthas had provided and ran to find his elder brother, Magni.

"You say Arthas wants armor?" Magni snatched the pouch from Muradin's hands and peeked inside.

Seeing his brother reluctant to return the bag, an ominous feeling rose in Muradin. Before he could speak, Magni's next sentence nearly stopped Muradin's heart.

"Hmph, with such fine materials, perhaps I should handle this myself!"

"Magni! This was something I agreed upon with Arthas!" Muradin protested. Just because you're my older brother doesn't mean I have to listen to you! Everyone knows these materials are precious; if you take them, what am I supposed to do?

The two brothers stood in a deadlock, eventually deciding to pick up their hammers together and head toward the Great Anvil.

Brann’s research into forging wasn't as deep as his two brothers', but Muradin and Magni were quintessential, traditional dwarves; their standards for forging were as high as their standards for fine ale.

"You should be able to get a pretty incredible suit of armor," Brann said, taking Muradin's drink and quietly filling his own canteen.

Arthas trusted Magni and Muradin's skills implicitly. If the equipment they forged wasn't considered good, then most human blacksmiths wouldn't even be worth mentioning.

When it came to pure manual forging craftsmanship, no one on Azeroth understood it better than the dwarves. Even the elves, with their ten thousand years of heritage, were only superior in magical forging techniques.

The forging lasted for the better part of a day. Utilizing the searing heat of the earth's core, Magni and Muradin melted down all the precious metals Arthas had brought. Every hammer blow they struck was infused with the power of the earth that flowed through their dwarven blood.

The shimmering silver prototype of the armor gradually took shape. The two dwarves worked with clear division of labor, quenching and polishing every component of the full plate armor, while with Jaina's assistance, they inscribed complex magical runes onto Arthas's battle armor.

Thorium and other precious magical metals already provided a solid foundation for enchanting. In fact, enchanting these magical metals was slightly easier than enchanting ordinary ones—provided the metal's inherent properties weren't too stubborn.

For example, the even rarer Titansteel, which had absorbed a portion of the Titans' power, or the nearly indestructible Saronite—very few enchanters could perform craftsmanship on metals of that caliber. Anyone who could reach such heights was undoubtedly a master among masters in the field of enchantment.

Arthas had also hoped to acquire some ores of that level to have a master like Magni craft his equipment, but unfortunately, this wasn't a game. Such rare metal ores were either extremely scarce or hidden in forbidden zones inaccessible to mortals.

Even for high-level dwarven master smiths, it was rare to practice with Thorium. Most would only have a few opportunities in their entire lives to craft armor or weapons using Thorium as a raw material.

It was only because Magni and Muradin were high-ranking, powerful dwarves with exceptional forging skills that they could perfectly unleash the formidable properties of Thorium to craft a complex, enchanted suit of armor.

After a long wait, Muradin emerged from the center of the Great Anvil, drenched in sweat. He looked at Arthas with a confident smile. "The armor you wanted is finished. Don't you want to take a look?"

"Thank you for your hard work."

Following Muradin into the Great Anvil, Arthas immediately saw the armor hanging on the display rack, radiating a pale silver glow.

"Breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves, and sabatons—all smelted from the optimal ratio of Thorium, Mithril, and Truesilver. The Elemental Fire and Elemental Earth you brought also stabilized the synthesis perfectly."

"To harm someone wearing this armor, you'd likely need to deploy an entire regiment of heavy infantry. Ordinary crossbow bolts won't be able to pierce it."

"At the same time, it has extremely high resistance to elemental magic. An ordinary mage's Frostbolt hitting this would be like splashing a bucket of water on you. It can also resist a portion of Arcane magic, though not as significantly as the dampening of elemental magic. Its reduction of other energies is similar to that of Arcane."

"As for the amplification of Holy Light abilities, I'll leave that to you, lad. I believe your own capacity is no weaker than those priests in the Cathedral."

Magni wiped the armor clean with a rag. He was very satisfied with his work and patted Arthas on the waist. "Next time you have such fine materials, come straight to me. That fellow Muradin's craft isn't quite good enough."

"Hey! I made the pauldrons and the arm guards, alright?" Muradin protested. Look at those pauldrons cast in the shape of a lion—they’re magnificent!

The dwarven king simply chose to ignore his brother. "What color do you want? Still the blue and silver of your Lordaeron?"

"Let's keep it as it was."

"Fine," Magni nodded, then thought of something. "There's still some metal left over from what you brought. But I remember you're accustomed to using a two-handed warhammer, so you shouldn't need a shield. What do you plan to do with the rest?"

Arthas's warhammer had shown slight wear after so much combat. He said to Magni, "Could you help me repair my weapon? You can keep the surplus as payment."

"Of course, no problem. But I won't take your Thorium," Magni laughed heartily. "If you ever have such fine materials again, bring them to Ironforge, and I'll forge whatever you want for free!"