Work on the Form took a long ti, with Torg and Xir eager to contribute. They were happy to assist the young man whose eyes shone brighter than any of the lights.
Not all newcors were like Garet. Just because soone was invited to the Thornspire for a test and beca an Awakened did not guarantee that they would be ready to follow this path to the very end.
Sure, everyone liked the power of Zenith and the capabilities of the Genesis Core, but as soon as people encountered their first problems or the threat of death from a bloodthirsty monster, all their optimism quickly evaporated.
Click.
Torg turned the last part of the anvil, changing a few pieces to assemble the final part — a small ring between the handle and the blade, replacing the guard.
"Hah, looks good, right?" Torg smiled, brushing the dust off his hands.
"Yeah, I don’t think I’d want to add anything else." Garet nodded.
With only one form, it was difficult for him to understand what his Blank would look like, but Torg already had a clear picture of the sword he was about to create.
"By the way..." Garet frowned as he turned to Xir. "What about you? You’re also Awakened, which ans you also have a Catalyst, right?"
His eyes scanned Xir, seeing no sword, no axe, not even gloves that could be his weapon.
In response, Xir raised his right hand as his sleeve fell to his forearm, revealing a bracelet of intertwined chains wrapped around his wrist.
"Oh, my Catalyst? It’s always with , Garet." Xir grinned as his bracelet glowed brightly.
The purple light illuminated the chamber as a multitude of chains soared around Xir, hovering nearby like his loyal guards, ready to carry out his every command.
Click.
Xir snapped his fingers as his bracelet returned to normal, absorbing all the chains.
"Don’t look at like you saw a ghost. You’ll have sothing like this, too. Well, not right away, but when you get an actual Catalyst, not a Blank."
"Tsk, Garet, don’t listen to him. Blanks are good weapons, especially for beginners."
Xir shrugged. "Of course, but nothing compares to a personal Catalyst. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it."
Garet bit his lip. It wasn’t that he envied Xir, but he would also like sothing similar, not chains, but a full-fledged Catalyst tailored specifically for him.
"Alright, step aside, it’s ti for to get to work!" Torg exclaid, warming up his shoulders. "Garet, give the Soul. Without the main ingredient, nothing will work, hahaha!"
Torg received the Souls of Inferno Wing, and Garet with Xir stepped aside. They would watch from a distance, because what Torg was about to do was dangerous, not for Xir, but for Garet.
"Watch closely, Garet," Xir said. "This is how our best blacksmith works."
Crack.
Torg tore off the pendant, which, with a bright flash, turned into a black, hand-held hamr with lava flowing among the shaking cracks.
’His Catalyst is his tool?’ Garet thought. ’And, it too was in a hidden form like Xir’s all this ti? I wonder what form my Catalyst will take when it cos to that?’
Thump.
Torg struck the ground, and a granite tank filled with so gray liquid — the material for all Blanks — erged from the floor.
Usually, to create a blade, for example, a blacksmith had to pour molten tal into a mold, then cool it and use an anvil to hamr it into the desired shape, and only then was it sharpened.
But the Blanks were not simple blades. Torg did not need a fla or a furnace to create them.
His work involved more dangerous things.
As soon as the tank was partially emptied after filling the mold, Torg’s gaze beca more serious than ever.
A barrier appeared around the Ring Anvil to prevent the energy from escaping, and another barrier in the form of a do covered the form.
The compound itself posed no threat, but the Soul did.
Tap.
Torg opened the jar, releasing the Soul of Inferno Wing. The crimson mass imdiately tried to break free, saw an opportunity, but crashed unsuccessfully into the do barrier.
However, Torg did not dare to show disrespect to the raging blob. He saw enough tis how young blacksmiths were careless with the Souls. It always led to painful deaths and, most importantly - to failure.
BAM!
Without hesitation, Torg brought his hamr down directly on the Soul of Inferno Wing, crushing it to pieces. The soul tried to recover, but the next strike hamred it back into the form.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
With each hit, sparks born from the collision of two different powers flew in all directions, while a tremor ran through the entire chamber, reaching even Garet’s feet as he stood in the distance.
Garet gulped, watching Torg’s hands tremble with each blow, as he clenched his teeth tighter.
When it ca to the final stage, two things were required of the blacksmith: to strike continuously with precision and to maintain pressure.
It was easy to make a mistake, and the blacksmith’s strength or the durability of the Ring Anvil played a much smaller role than it might seem. It was all about mastery, otherwise, the energy from the soul would rampage due to the constant strikes, and a devastating explosion would occur.
However... This was not the case for soone like Torg.
BAM!
The last strike caused a flash of fla, imrsing the bright light from the soul into the almost finished sword.
"Gha..." Torg exhaled hot steam while sweat stread down his neck.
Then, he put his hamr aside and removed the barriers, leaving the sword untouched at the Ring Anvil.
"Garet. I can’t do this." He pointed at the sword. "You must be the first to reach for your Blank."
Tap.
Xir nudged him forward.
"But be careful. The first ti, the Soul may still try to resist. It’s different for everyone. In any case, you’re a strong guy, you can handle it."
Garet nodded deeply as his gaze swept over the black, wide blade, to the ring at its base, and the short but heavy handle wrapped in dark bandages.
It was his Blank, and it was all made from a compound, one Soul, and dozens of strikes from an experienced blacksmith. Only energy was capable of this. It would be impossible to create sothing like this from ordinary materials.
Wanting to take the next step on his path, Garet gripped the hilt tightly with one hand and raised the sword high.
A gleam ran through his eyes as his Genesis Core trembled.
[A suitable weapon has been found. Starting the Bond!]
Garet’s eyes widened for a mont. He saw sothing similar in the description of the Soul, but it was too early to celebrate.
"Agh?"
A stream of fire ran along the blade as black lightning sparkled in the ring, and a single stream passed through Garet’s hand, causing his face to contort in bright pain.
It was his choice, after all, as the Soul of Inferno Wing was not going to submit without a fight.
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