Chapter 641: The Aetherium's Submission [Part 2]
The silence between Eleina and Northern was tense. Northern had an annoying soft smile lingering on his face, one that seemed to infuriate Eleina by the second.
She clenched her hands so tightly her entire hand muscles became rigid, almost like breaking, then she broke and sighed, letting all that frustration and anger go in a breath. It was almost like magic.
Her entire demeanor changed in an instant, so obvious that even Northern was intrigued.
She looked at him.
"Fine, I will let you do it your way. But not here."
Northern looked around, observing everyone before coming back to Eleina.
"I am not opposed to anything, but the kind of person I have known you to be wouldn't it be
to your benefit for everyone to behold the magnificent scene of your student breaking the will of a rare mineral ore such as this, in a way that has never been seen before?"
Eleina rolled her eyes. "If I knew you were this full of yourself, I definitely would have thought twice about taking you under my wing. Follow me."
As she commanded, she turned away from Northern. With haste, he picked up the mineral, his hammer still in his hands, and followed her.
They walked for a couple of minutes, cutting to the back corner of the workshop building, through a garden, and eventually reached a waterside forge. Much smaller inside compared to the main forge, the clean stream flowing by, the distant garden, and the openness of the area sheltering them from the harshness of the day star's heat in the hot afternoon, all came together to create a perfect workshop.
...For a blacksmith, that is.
Northern observed the place and nodded his head.
"This is good. Where did you find it?"
"It belonged to the head forgemaster. He relinquished it to me when I was on my second year."
Northern's eyes widened a bit. 'She was that good?'
Eleina glanced at him and grinned smugly. "What? Am I beginning to truly intimidate you?"
"I am just impressed. And considering that I rarely get impressed, you should feel proud of yourself."
"Bastard," she spat with a crumpled face.
"By the way," Northern's voice asked, "except for the first day I came, I have never met the forgemaster. Why?"
"Oh, he's busy," Eleina responded as she entered the forge. She continued, "It's the season of the year where the Milhwa festival is held. Heads of every department get busy."
"Busy doing what? And what is the Milhwa festival?"
She spoke as she rearranged a few things in the worn-out smithy.
"The academy was created by three individuals, but one of them was well known for his outstanding effort and he was known as Milhwa. During the early days of the academy, the three of them got distant from each other, separated by their beliefs and differences. The Combative school, the Craftsmanship school, and the Scholar School.
"A major discord was said to have happened then, and after it was settled, Milhwa created a festival in the school for all three schools to compete against each other under fair conditions. The winner and their school is ranked as the strongest. So far, since the history of the festival, the Combative school has always won. Even when the Scholar and Craftsmanship schools came together to become the non-combative school, it was still useless."
"That must have hurt a lot..."
"It's none of my business. I am not concerned with festivals and competition. In my opinion, Milhwa created a ground for the other two schools to repeatedly get humiliated every year." "That's sad..."
Eleina finally finished what she was doing and looked at Northern. She frowned.
"What is that sly grin on your face for?"
Northern stroked his chin a little bit.
"I'll tell you what. How about I take the festival for the non-combative school for the first time in the history of the academy's creation?"
Eleina lingered for a bit; she was enticed by the offer. She acted like it wasn't her concern, but she had had to endure the humiliation for the past three years.
No matter how much they tried, the Combative school just always won. It didn't matter what they were best at or how fair the competition was to both schools; the stronger ones always came out on top.
If that were to change, she would be happy. But it was impossible. While she now guessed that Northern could be strong, she was also aware that it was impossible for him alone to carry the entire responsibility of the whole festival.
It would wear him out before he got a chance to win.
She scoffed, "If you have the time to think about that nonsense, why don't you tame ten rare minerals and let me see?"
Northern gave her a thumbs up. "Deal."
Finally, the stage was set. He dropped the Aetherium on the metallic table and stared at it for a few seconds while Eleina backed away.
Then Northern began again. This time, he brought the hammer down on the charged stone without mercy. Just as a resounding clang reverberated through the serene environment, lightning whipped across the air, throwing a useless tantrum.
Northern did not mind it. With the Void Force, it was impossible for the whips of lightning to hurt him. Although the smithy was at risk, he didn't seem to care.
His hammer rang with pain in its clangor as he continued to smash the stone, each strike growing fiercer than the last.
Sparks of light danced in the air like wild fireflies, illuminating the forge in dazzling flashes of blue and white.
The Aetherium fought back, each blow releasing arcs of lightning that scorched the air and seared the edges of the metallic table. Yet, Northern remained steadfast, his expression calm,
his movements precise.
Eleina crossed her arms, her skeptical gaze fixed on him.
"You're going to ruin that table," she muttered, though a part of her couldn't deny the
fascination building within her.
The way he moved, the rhythm of his strikes-it wasn't just brute strength. There was an art
to it, a method she hadn't expected. He had taken all he had been learning the past few weeks and ingrained it into every part of his body.
Northern smirked without looking at her. "I'm taming the mineral, not the furniture. If it breaks, it wasn't worthy of this forge anyway."
Eleina rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she observed him more intently.
There was something... different about how he worked the hammer. His strikes weren't random; each one carried a deliberate purpose, a distinct resonance that seemed to
communicate with the mineral itself.
Then she noticed it.