Kael planted the gear in the center of the richest field. By summer, a tree grew—its trunk gold, its leaves silver, bearing fruit of pure light. The tree was not a treasure. It was a reminder.
The general looked at him. “From what?” the golden army
For three days, he worked. He filed burrs, hammered a bent axle, and used a strip of his own leather belt as a temporary belt. When he clicked the final gear into place, a sound like a great, deep breath filled the cavern. Golden eyelids opened. Twelve thousand spears snapped to attention. Kael planted the gear in the center of the richest field