Chapter 634: Son Of The Forge
CHAPTER 634
The first and second days were a mercy to Northern's routine for the next few weeks.
The sad and painful part was that it left him having no time for other things.
It was difficult and enjoyable. While he had a difficult, experimental, and practical learning session with Eleina during school hours, he had sword training sessions with Bairan in the evening.
Not only was Bairan willing to pass his sword styles to Northern, he was also overeager to help Northern brush up his own Chaos Sword Art.
This caused Northern to usually show up to the forge several days tired, relying on his circulation of essence to at least save him from the brink of collapsing.
He had no time at all for anything and usually gave himself to blacksmithing and sword training.
He was, at the very least, happy that he was learning both at the same time. It was helpful. Eleina's teachings and succulent explanations about weapons, armors, and all things that are forgeable-but most especially weapons-helped Northern during sword training.
They improved his understanding of the sword and the twin-bladed staff.
For example, understanding the balance of weight and the distribution of force in a weapon had drastically improved Northern's technique.
Eleina's relentless lessons on the intricacies of forging-how a blade's curve affected its cutting power, how the density of metal influenced its durability-translated directly into his movements during combat.
Bairan noticed the change almost immediately.
"Master! You're starting to move like your weapon is an extension of yourself," Bairan remarked during one evening training session, his voice tinged with approval. "That's the hallmark of a true swordsman."
Northern, sweat dripping down his face, nodded as he adjusted his grip on his twin-bladed staff. "It's not just the weapon," he said between heavy breaths. "It's the craft. Knowing how it's made... it changes how you see it."
Bairan gave a faint smile, his beautiful eyes radiating with self-pride. "Master, you are incredibly intelligent, a genius. No one will be able to match your skill both in sword and blacksmithing in the next two years."
"Thank you," Northern replied with a smile.
Of all his summons, Bairan was the one that had managed to get closer to him. The bastard sometimes would even show up unannounced, casually relaxing in Northern's room.
Saying the Limitless Void was too crowded, he needed fresh air.
Northern, after Bairan began to move like that, noticed changes in other summons also. For example, Black Mamba for some reason now looks at him with jitters.
Northern also didn't know how, but five monsters have become spectras and are on their way to becoming void summons.
All on their own. He was yet to figure out the principality that worked this phenomenon, nor did he have so much time on his hands to find out.
The weeks blurred together into a grueling routine. Every morning began in the forge, where Eleina pushed him to his limits, assigning him increasingly complex tasks that required both physical endurance and mental precision.
If he wasn't forging a blade, he was repairing a damaged suit of armor. If he wasn't working with steel, he was experimenting with rare and difficult materials from rifts that required intense focus to manipulate.
By the time the day ended, his arms felt like lead, his fingers blistered and raw, with how he felt his body adapting to the change, it was always like the challenge grew the next day, causing an even more daunting task of adaptation for his body.
There was no rest. Northern would push himself even harder, refining his swordsmanship until his body felt like it might collapse under the weight of his efforts.
Despite the exhaustion, Northern could feel himself growing.
His body was adapting to the relentless strain, his muscles harder and more precise, his movements more fluid.
More importantly, his mind was sharpening. He began to see patterns in both forging and combat, connections that others might overlook.
A weapon wasn't just a tool; it was an expression of its wielder's intent, a physical manifestation of their soul.
One night, as he collapsed onto his bed, his body aching and his mind buzzing with fatigue, Northern allowed himself a rare moment of reflection.
He thought of the past and how far he had come, this caused him to reminisce about certain people, some he hated, some he missed.
'Ah right... Master Annette said she was coming to the academy. I wonder if she's here too... She's not a Master anymore either.'
Northern wondered for a moment how shocked she would be to find out that he was now a Sage.
Now, as he stared up at the ceiling, the faint glow of dual moon lights filtering through his window, Northern stared at the ceiling till sleep hurled him away.
The next day, Eleina seemed to notice the shift in him.
"You're forging faster," she said, her tone as sharp as ever but with a hint of curiosity. "And with more precision. What changed?"
Northern shrugged, hammering down on a glowing blade with practiced ease. "I stopped thinking about it as work," he said simply. "This... all of this... it's just part of who I am now."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't press the matter. Instead, she nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Good. Then you're ready for your next challenge."
She placed a small chunk of shimmering metal on the anvil. It was unlike anything Northern had worked with before, its surface shifting like liquid even as it held its solid form.
"This," Eleina said, her voice serious, "is Aetherium. It's one of the rarest metals in existence. Gotten from a tier five rift and used only in the creation of weapons for the most elite drifters, even Masters can't handle its power. Forging it requires absolute focus and precision. One mistake, and it's ruined."
Northern stared at the metal, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He could feel the energy radiating off of it, like a heartbeat in his hands.
"What do you want me to make?" he asked, his voice steady despite the weight of her request.
"A weapon worthy of your potential," she replied, stepping back to give him space. "Let's see if you can rise to the occasion."
The forge grew quiet as the other students watched, their usual gossip and laughter fading into silence. All eyes were on Northern as he picked up the Aetherium, his expression
unreadable.
He didn't care about their stares or their whispered doubts. For him, this wasn't about proving them wrong. It wasn't even about proving Eleina right.
He was about to start the process when a shrouding presence entered into the workshop.
Northern recognize him immediately.