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“Well,” Arwin said, his words cutting through the building like a blade as he turned back to look at the others. He lifted the key so they could all see it. “I think I might know what the Infernal Armory wants me to do. I haven’t the faintest idea how it made a damn portal or where it leads to.”

The flame crackling above the hearth crackled and the ground beneath Arwin’s feet bucked impatiently as a pulse rippled through the veins covering the room. It didn’t look like the building wanted to wait around forever — but Arwin had no plans of just shoving the key where ever he was told to put it.

As the Hero, Arwin would have plunged it home and strode into the door, eager to take on whatever waited for him.

That wasn’t who he was anymore. This wasn’t just about him. He had a guild. A team of people that his actions affected, and a team of people to rely on. Lillia reminded him more than enough times that not every decision had to fall entirely on his shoulders.

“Is this something we should decide on quicky?” Anna asked doubtfully. “I’m not sure how much good is going to come from going through a door like that. It’s not the same as the one that all the adventurers were killing each other over to get through. It almost certainly leads somewhere else. It could be a trap.”

“We may not have long to make a decision,” Lillia warned. “I think Anna is right about it being dangerous, though. Going through random portals is usually a really bad idea. That said, we did make the Infernal Armory. It won’t survive without us feeding it.”

“I don’t see why it would kill the people that made it,” Reya said The heart pulsed in the wall, sending a ripple of power running through the black veins covering the stone. She put a hand on Wyrmhunger and looked up at the crackling portal. “I vote open it. We can at least try to see if we can look inside before we go in, but what was the point of making this thing if you aren’t going to use it?”

“It technically wasn’t meant to do anything other than pump bellows,” Arwin pointed out, but he was personally of the same opinion as Reya. They could open the door at the very least. He was loathe to leave any potential advantage behind when they were all in such desperate need for it in the coming months.

And given how many resources the heart stole from me while it was remaking the building, I’d certainly like something in return. It would be a nasty blow to lose so much and gain nothing in return.

“I’ve stuck things in more suspicious places,” Olive said. “I’d do it.”

They all turned to look at her. She met their gazes with a straight face. “What?”

I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand Olive’s humor. Half the time, I’m not even sure if its humor at all.

“Rodrick? Thoughts?” Arwin asked.

“Stick it in. We can just pour some water on the fire or something if it turns out poorly. You’ve got a barrel over there, don’t you?”

“That’s oil.”

“Same thing.”

“I’m pretty sure the oil will just make the fire even bigger,” Anna said.

“Great. Then we’ll burn the door down. The best way to fight fire is with more fire, right?”

The veins pulsed again and the floor beneath Arwin nearly launched him straight into the air. Patience definitely wasn’t one of the Infernal Armory’s virtues. He didn’t let the building hurry him.

Arwin would be damned if he stumbled into something that put his friends at risk without doing everything he could to account for possible threats. He looked to Anna, who was the only one who hadn’t voiced her approval yet.

“Thoughts on just opening it and not entering until we know more?”

She thought for a moment. Then she let out a small sigh and shook her head, stepping beside Rodrick and letting a knowing smile cross her face as she nodded to the key. “Oh, who am I kidding. I want to know what the door is just as much as the rest of you. You’re all a horrible influence. Stick it in. Just put on protection first.”

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Olive snickered. Arwin rolled his eyes and summoned every piece of armor he had. He waited until Lillia had backed up and everyone had readied themselves before drawing on his magical energy.

[Soul Flame] raced down his fingers and wrapped around his palms. It encased his hands in burning gloves as he lifted a hand, bringing the key toward the door. Even though the keyhole was literally made of fire, he felt resistance as he fitted the key in. It was just like any other lock. Just… made out of fire.

So not really like any other lock at all.

Arwin readied himself. Then he twisted the key. A gentle click echoed through the back room of the smithy. The Menagerie stiffened, readying themselves for a fight, but nothing changed. Flames flickered along the black door, waiting patiently.

The Infernal Armory, however, was less patient. The ground beneath Arwin bounced him several inches into the air like a rogue trampoline. He cursed and stumbled, windmilling his hands to keep his balance.

“Would you stop that?” Arwin snapped.

The small mound in the stone shrank back down with a ripple, flatting so quickly that it almost looked ashamed. Almost. Arwin summoned Verdant Inferno to his left hand and reached out with the other, pressing a palm on the surface of the door.

The orange [Soul Flame] wreathing it danced together with the pitch-black fire, but the heat couldn’t penetrate his defenses. It struck Arwin that, even if the door opened, not a single other one of the Menagerie would be able to go through it other than him. They’d get cooked alive.

Well, we’re this far along. I’m not going to stop now. Let’s see what all this effort has been for.

Arwin pushed gently and the door swung in soundlessly, which really wasn’t a surprise. Physical properties or not, it wasn’t like fire was going to grind against anything when it opened. A floor of polished obsidian awaited their rapt gazes as they got their first look into the room beyond the flaming entryway.

Light glistened and danced off its faceted surface like a black ocean, but it wasn’t coming from their side. Magma bubbled and popped in the distance, casting the entire Infernal Armory in an orange hue from its intensity.

Arwin pushed the door a little further, revealing a wall completely covered with smithing tools forged from the same black obsidian as the floor. Each of them had clearly been made with incredible care. Beautiful golden designs covered their surface, but their working areas were worn.

In the very center of the room was a spot of brilliance so bright that Arwin had to blink to adjust his eyes. It was an anvil of pure white metal, completely unadorned, but with dents and scars that showed that it had been well-used.

“Whoa,” Reya breathed. “A workshop.”

“Like the other one… but less run down,” Arwin said, swallowing heavily. “What is this? And why does a damn corpse heart have a way into it?”

The ground beneath him bucked, but considerably less violently than it had before. He didn’t even lose his balance this time.

“I think it wants you to go in,” Olive said. “I may be retracting my earlier suggestion. How do we know it won’t just slam the door shut on you?”

“How do we know it isn’t trying to help?” Reya countered. “It could be trying to pay Arwin and Lillia back for making it. Maybe this is a gift.”

“You’ve got your hand on Wyrmhunger,” Olive pointed out. “You don’t have any fear right now. Good for battle. Not for making decisions.”

Reya looked down at her hand. The dagger glistened in the orange light, a sea of blood twisting within its red metal. “Oh, yeah. I guess I do. I still think it’s worth checking out, though. Imagine how much it’ll suck if we miss out on something huge because we’re worried.”

“The Infernal Armory is definitely intelligent enough to understand what’s going on,” Lillia observed after a moment of thought. “It has to know we’ll destroy it if you die or if it tries to attack you. I don’t see why it would sacrifice its life to kill the person that made it.”

“Maybe it’s really pissed to be alive,” Rodrick said doubtfully. “I’m also a bit less optimistic here. I was kind of hoping to see a whole bunch of gold come spilling out. Let’s go find some prick from the Ardent Guild and toss them inside. See what happens.”

“I don’t know if the doorway will last that long,” Arwin said with a shake of his head. The fire along its edges was still strong, but the glow in the black veins covering the floor had been steadily fading. It would probably only be minutes before it was gone entirely.

Can I grab that anvil and drag it back in here? I don’t see my old anvil anywhere. Damn building ate it. I need a new one, and that one’s just… sitting there.

“You thinking you’ll just snag the tools in there and run back out?” Reya asked.

Arwin nodded, his mind already half made-up. At the very least, he wanted to try to take the anvil. Lillia had been right — it made absolutely no sense for the building to try and kill him like this. Either it benefitted from him bringing some of the items back or it was trying to pay him back.

I still have no damn idea how it made a portal, but that’s a problem to figure out when we’ve got time.

“I’m going to do it,” Arwin said. “Stay here. Nobody follow after me, no matter what happens. I’m going to try and snag that anvil before the portal closes.”

He took a step back, preparing to fling himself into the doorway.

A clank rang out, followed by another. The entire Menagerie froze as a foot landed in front of the doorway and a stout man clad entirely in obsidian armor stepped into view. Greaves ran throughout the armor in intricate patterns, pulsing with what looked to be literal magma flowing within.

The man’s head barely rose up to Arwin’s chest and his face was completely concealed by a thick, cylindrical helm with two thin slits for eyes that burned a dull orange. He held a hefty smithing hammer in one hand, its handle wrapped in golden designs and tiny embers wafting off its head like an open flame.

An immense aura rolled off the man with such force that it passed through the portal and slammed into Arwin’s stomach like a punch to the gut, even through his enhanced mental and physical defenses.

The rest of the Menagerie staggered and readied their weapons.

“Who in the Underlands are you?” the man demanded, his tone like stone grinding against itself. The head of his hammer hummed and started to glow a deep orange that matched the bubbling lava at his back. “And how did you open a portal into my blasted workshop?”