Chapter 642: The Aetherium’s Submission [Part 3]
Wrapped around Northern's hammer was a strange, almost foggy-looking air.
Each time the lightning lashed out and passed through that air, it vanished completely within it.
Eleina had several speculations in her head, but none of them made sense enough to explain why that cold air erased the lightning, controlling its damage before it got the chance to vehemently fly around.
She saw that Northern indeed knew what he was doing with every shattering smash he slammed on the mineral.
However, the black stone only glinted more stubbornly, with blue sparks dancing around it. 'It doesn't look like it's going to give in.' Eleina folded her hands and watched with a rising tension in her heart.
It was like a contest of power. So far, both sides were unrelenting. Through watching Northern's effort in subduing the mineral, she had gone from being very sure that it was impossible to being hopeful that he would break it.
Deep in her heart, she had always questioned this part of her work. However, no one had the power to subdue such strong mineral ores.
Birthed from the heart of viciousness in the rift, this mineral bore the greatest will of the rift to carry on. Their roots came from the core of the rift, at the moment of birth.
They had seen its growth and shared its change. They were the severest component of a rift, their will eternally bound to the spatial, monster-birthing anomaly.
Subduing them was like subduing the rift itself. Each strike against the black stone, shining with blue glints, was like striking against the will of hundreds of monsters with a single hammer.
It was not the hammer that did the work, but the power of the one wielding the hammer. The will of the person is what radiates through their strike. When ego clashes with ego, a contest is born, hence explaining the intense resistance of the mineral.
The only reason there was a methodical approach to breaking the ores was because no one had been known to possess a will strong enough to match that of a hundred, perhaps a thousand monsters, desperately willing to survive and carry on the essence of their habitat.
However, Eleina was thinking differently now. Her eyes widened as Northern rained down one powerful strike and a crack pierced into the stone. The lightning that whipped out this time was weaker.
A small grin slowly crawled on Eleina's face, her eyes shining with excitement.
'Insane...'
The Aetherium's resistance was beginning to falter, its defiance slowly giving way to something else: submission.
But something was different. Besides the somber look on Northern's face, there was now a peace ringing in the crude melody of his strikes.
"What... what are you doing?" Eleina asked, her voice low, almost reverent.
"Negotiating," Northern replied simply, his face blank. "Every material has a will like we are taught. It didn't feel right breaking it. So I decided that I was going to guide it. Show it the path it didn't know it could take."
Eleina's eyes narrowed. "And what path is that?"
"The path to perfection."
As if to prove his point, the Aetherium began to glow. Not in anger, but in harmony. The lightning that once lashed out now danced along its surface, forming intricate patterns that shimmered like alignments of stars.
Northern's strikes slowed, each one deliberate and steady, shaping the mineral with a precision that bordered on the divine.
The air in the forge shifted. The oppressive tension lifted, replaced by a strange, almost calming stillness. Even the stream outside seemed to quiet, as if the world itself was watching.
Eleina took a cautious step forward, her skepticism giving way to curiosity. "How are you doing this? This... this isn't normal smithing."
Northern finally stopped, resting the hammer on the table. He turned to her, his expression serious.
"It's not about the hammer, the force, or even the will. It's about understanding what you're working with. When I first start hitting, I showed it the overwhelming pressure of my will, if I wanted to outrightly crush it, I could. Being an egoistic and sentimental essence, it fought back but in a much more primal manner. It was just putting up its guard against my might.
"Then I had to show it that was useless also. Then it began to submit. But my will did not just sit on it. I wanted to understand it. The understanding I feel is required to be able to bring the best in the mineral. In that understanding, I am able to show it a better form of service of carrying on its will."
Northern finished with a somber smile. Then he glanced at the mineral.
'Although I am not sure if this is the hack I need.'
Eleina blinked, her mind racing to process his words. She had heard of ancient smiths who claimed to 'communicate' with their materials, but she had always dismissed it as superstitious nonsense.
Yet here was Northern, standing before her with a piece of Aetherium that no longer looked like a wild, untamed force of nature. It looked... docile. Beautiful.
"It's ready," Northern said, interrupting her thoughts.
"Ready for what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Northern blinked, "For what else? To be forged into a sledgehammer."
Eleina frowned a little. "A sledgehammer? The person that placed the request did not ask for a sledgehammer."
"If the power of this mineral ore truly wants to be seen, it has to be forged into a sledgehammer and wielded by someone whose will is as strong as his swinging power."
"How would you know that?" Eleina asked, disturbed.
With a flourish, Northern lifted the glowing Aetherium from the table and held it up to the
light.
He smiled, "Because I understand it."
The patterns of lightning shimmered and swirled, forming a shape that resembled a soaring eagle—a testament to both its strength and its freedom.
Eleina stared, unable to hide her awe. "You... you actually did it. You tamed it."
Northern shrugged, though the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. "Told you I would. Now,
about that festival..."
Eleina groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're impossible."
"And yet, here I am," Northern replied, his grin as insufferable.
Eleina couldn't help but laugh, despite herself. For the first time in years, she felt a glimmer of hope a dangerous, reckless hope that maybe, just maybe, the tides could finally turn.