PREVIEW

... pickaxe in one hand. The poor thing was scratched everywhere and the blade was dull from constant use for days. One more swing and it could break in two.

"Well, time to let you have a break, old friend," he grumbled, putting it down. He took out the new pickaxe—the one he made from that strange, blue shiny metal he smelted previously. It was lighter than copper but felt much stronger. The blue, smooth surface glinted in the light.

"This had better be worth all the furnace effort ...

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