The hall of the White Eagle gradually filled with guests.
Those attending the meeting were mostly renowned workshop owners from the steel fortress, many of whom had burn scars from molten iron visible on their hands.
Of course, there were also some spotlessly clean, seemingly pampered "gentlemen."
Although they varied in age, temperament, and conversation, the guests were from the same society and shared the same identity: Forge Masters.
Winters' classmate—a mysterious middle-aged man missing two fingers—seemed to be highly respected by the Forge Masters. Wherever he went, people would stop talking and either nod or raise their glasses to greet him proactively.
The middle-aged man swaggered through the crowd directly towards the long table at the other end of the hall, with Winters following behind him composedly.
Caman, who was brooding over a drink by the long table, inadvertently caught sight of Winters approaching with a stranger. He put down his glass and slowly got up.
