Chapter 45
After their grueling battle with the mother bird, Alarcus and Kael returned to the nearby town. Exhausted but victorious, they headed straight to the Adventurers' Guild to report their success. The guild worker's eyes widened when they heard of the feat. The mother bird had terrorized the region for years, and no one had dared to go after it before.
"Well, you two sure did us a favor," the guild worker said, handing over a hefty reward. "This should cover your troubles. Drinks are on us tonight."
Kael grinned, pocketing his share of the gold. "Don't mind if I do!"
That evening, the two shared a celebratory meal at the local tavern. Kael, true to form, ate with reckless abandon, his plate piled high with roasted meats and freshly baked bread. Alarcus, while more reserved, allowed himself to relax for the first time in days. The victory had been hard-fought, and the food tasted all the sweeter for it.
The next morning, while Alarcus was out buying supplies for their journey, Kael walked through the town to say goodbye to the townsfolk. Despite his brash and wild personality, he had made an impression on the people, who cheered for him as he passed.
"You better not let another bird like that show up!" Kael joked with a toothy grin, patting a young boy on the head. "Or I'll have to come back and clean up the mess again!"
When Alarcus returned, they met at the town's gates, ready to move on.
"So, where to next?" Kael asked, slinging his travel bag over his shoulder.
"The Dwarven Kingdom," Alarcus replied, tightening the straps on his pack.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "The blacksmith you mentioned—he's there, right?"
Alarcus shook his head. "No. But if you want a new gauntlet worthy of replacing the one you lost, we'll need to get some mythril from the dwarves."
Kael's expression turned thoughtful for a moment before he smirked. "Mythril, huh? Sounds fancy. Alright, lead the way!"
Meanwhile, back in Greyhold, Reyn was busy with his latest project. In the small forge behind his family's home, he examined the three small chunks of mythril that Elric had retrieved from the Duke's vault. The rare metal gleamed faintly under the light of the forge fire, its beauty matched only by its incredible toughness.
"Three chunks," Reyn muttered, running a hand over their surfaces. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing."
Beside him, Ember, his ever-loyal flame spirit, flickered brightly in the forge's hearth. With her help, Reyn carefully melted down one of the mythril chunks, the heat from her flames surpassing even the most advanced forges.
However, the process wasn't simple. The first chunk of mythril had been part of an ancient dwarven sword, and taking it apart required both precision and patience. Reyn wiped sweat from his brow as he worked, feeling the strain of the task.
"Recycling mythril," he muttered. "If the dwarves knew about this, they'd probably call it sacrilege."
Even so, Reyn pressed on, knowing that every piece of this rare material was invaluable. As the sword's remnants finally began to separate, Ember's flame danced triumphantly, illuminating the forge with a warm glow.
"Good work, Ember," Reyn said, smiling at the spirit. "With this, we're one step closer to creating something truly amazing."
Reyn's thoughts shifted to his plans for the mythril. His first priority was crafting a weapon for the second prince, Cailum Althares. After seeing the prince's skill in the tournament, Reyn wanted to create something that would suit his fighting style perfectly. He decided on a design inspired by the weapon used by Ikkaku Madarame in Bleach—a spear with a hidden blade that transformed into a dual-bladed weapon. It would require precision, strength, and flawless craftsmanship to bring the vision to life.
But to complete such a weapon, Reyn needed more than just the mythril. He needed to set up a spirit summoning circle at his new secret base to imbue the weapon with the right magical properties. With the protective enchantments and teleportation circle already in place at the hidden forge, it was the perfect spot to work on such a delicate and complex project.
Placing the molten mythril into a mold, Reyn let it cool into a new ingot. With the first chunk processed, he turned his attention to the remaining two pieces, already planning the steps needed to create a masterpiece worthy of the battle crazy prince.
Reyn was practically buzzing with excitement as he teleported to his secret base. The walls of his forge, now equipped with the best tools and his spatial enhancements, seemed to hum in anticipation. He wasted no time and immediately set to work on the weapon for Prince Cailum Althares. The sword was going to be a masterpiece, a weapon that could transform just like the one used by Ikkaku Madarame from Bleach. Each transformation had to be carefully crafted, requiring precision and patience, but Reyn was determined to finish it.
The process took several days, during which he had to stop intermittently to attend his classes at the academy, but his focus never wavered. Finally, the sword was complete—its core perfectly balanced and shaped for the prince. Now, it was time to bind a spirit to the weapon.
Reyn carefully placed the sword on the ground and prepared the summoning circle. He knew that finding the right spirit was crucial. With a steady hand, he placed an offering of rare herbs, gemstones, and a bit of his own crafted material into the circle to attract the right entity. The air around the sword crackled with energy as the magic began to weave.
With a flash, the summoning circle ignited with a bright light, and a strange figure materialized before Reyn. The figure was ethereal, its form constantly shifting between human and battle-ready beast, with glinting eyes and a voice that sounded both ancient and youthful.
The spirit raised its head, sniffing the air before locking eyes with Reyn. "Well, well... this sword. It has a familiar aura. You are acquainted with Voltaire, aren't you?"
Reyn nodded, his excitement building. "I am. I've forged weapons for others before, but this one is special. I need you to live in this sword and make it stronger."
The spirit's eyes gleamed with amusement. "I see. This blade will do. It's a fine creation, though I do have one condition for its wielder. He must be strong enough to unlock my full power. And... oh yes," the spirit paused, its ethereal form swaying slightly, "I require something a little... strange."
Reyn raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
The spirit grinned mischievously. "I demand that my wielder perform my happy dance before every battle. It's a simple request, and I like it when they dance. It makes me... happy. If they can't do that, they won't unlock my full power."
Reyn couldn't help but chuckle at the spirit's request. "A happy dance, huh? Well, I'm sure the prince won't mind. I'll let him know when I deliver it to him."
The spirit's grin widened. "Good. Also, let me make one thing clear: I'll stay in this sword for as long as I choose. If I ever feel like leaving, I can. But I'll know when the time is right for my wielder to unlock my final form."
Reyn nodded seriously, "Understood. I'll make sure the prince knows all of this. You'll be a powerful ally for him."
The spirit's form flickered, settling into the sword, which pulsed with a new energy. "You're a clever one, blacksmith. I like you. My name is Zephyros. I am the wind of battle. And the dance? Make sure he gets it right. I'm not one to take requests lightly."
Reyn smiled, pleased with the spirit's confidence. "Zephyros. I'll remember that. I'm sure the prince will appreciate having you as his partner."
As the spirit fully integrated with the sword, the weapon itself seemed to hum with new life, its aura resonating with Zephyros' energy. Reyn carefully closed the summoning circle, the magic sealing the bond between the spirit and the sword.
With the sword completed and the spirit bound, all that was left was to deliver it to Prince Cailum Althares. The work was done—now, all that was left was for the prince to prove his strength, both in battle and in dance.