The old man stood inside the towering hearth, the cobalt blue aura forming a thin layer around his body and protecting it from the raging flames.
Ten blacksmiths stood outside, each using their sheer strength to pump air into the hearth using the bellows stationed outside.
'Wow, going out with mithrils right away?' Taurus thought while waiting for the entire process.
His grandfather retrieved a couple of dimly lit silver stones before throwing them on the forge before him.
Mithril was a strong ore used to alter the mana's property, and one strong enough to handle the aura unleashed by physical combatants.
Without it, the weapon would break down after just a few uses of aura.
The mithril stones turned into small pieces as the hammer sang away, its clanging sound echoing through the entire forgery.
"Will you thrust harder you incompetent fools?! A wanker would have done much better!" The old man shouted before putting the mithril into a pot with plenty of mana stones.
The assistants working outside did as told, putting more strength into their arms.
"Mooooooore!" Another roar escaped the hearth as the old man stripped his upper clothes before throwing them as the fire devoured them.
He whipped the sweat on his face before staring at the long, thick club before him.
Although the heat inside the oven was incredibly dangerous, he couldn't sense or feel more than a tenth since his aura kept him safe.
Still, it was enough to make him sweat a little.
He lifted the club before using it as a tool to stir the liquid inside the pot as the liquefied mana began merging with the silver mithril slowly.
The old man continued for a few more minutes as the silver colors continued fading, leaving nothing but a sky-blue liquid inside.
"Bring in the obsidian, fools!" He breathed a sigh of relief before shouting as some more blacksmiths came running with another pot containing a punch of big, black rocks.
The old man stepped outside, taking the pot from the ones carrying it before dumping it into the mix.
Unlike the two previous materials, obsidians didn't take long to melt and soon enough, they faded entirely as well.
The final solution was a deep blue, thick liquid.
Finally, the old man set the club down, grabbed the pot with both hands, and lifted it onto his shoulders before stepping outside.
He placed half of the pot's content on the massive anvil before returning the pot to the hot hearth.
Once done, he retrieved his hammer and thus he began slamming down on the solution, shaping it into a thin, curved blade as it began regaining its solidity once again.
Once done, the old began sharpening the blade's edges by thinning them down further.
"Hmmm, that's too plain." The old man held his beard while inspecting his creation as an idea came to his mind.
He held a small tool and began ironing the blade, creating sharp, tiny edges and resampling teeth.
He stared at the blade once again, assessing it from each side before shaking his head.
'Better, but still plain…' He thought before coming up with an idea to curve some shapes, giving the blade more details.
"Almost done with your bloody axe, you brat!" A few hours later, the old man was finished making the blade before moving on to the long handle.
He spoke, his words echoing through the forgery and shocking the ones working alongside him.
"Thank you, granpa!!!!" Taurus shouted excitedly, feeling satisfied with his grandfather's work, knowing his new weapon was bound to be something no less than the Golden Mane.
Mithril could contain aura pretty well, and obsidian could house a spirit later.
But in the end, it depended on him whether he found a suitable spirit for the axe or not.
"Can I try it?! Please!" A few minutes passed and the old man was done putting the blade and handle together as Taurus shouted once again the moment he saw the large axe.
"Not in here," The old man muttered before handing the axe to Taurus and continuing his words.
"Come with me." Taurus did and followed behind the old man, his eyes glued to the axe as they walked outside the forgery.
Soon enough, the three arrived at an area meant for testing new weapons.
Obsidian pillars stood in the center, the marks left behind by the forgery's creation ruining their beauty.
"Cut this one down, and use all of your strength boy!" The old man spoke, knowing the obsidian was a martial strong enough, enough to push Taurus to use at least a high percentage of his strength.
"Are you sure, grandpa?!" Taurus asked curiously, knowing such a thing could easily cause a disaster for his family.
"Of Course."
"But I'm too strong, Granpa!"
"Just do as I say, boi!" The old man continued, his stubbornness not allowing him to back off.
On the other hand, Taurus gave up trying to convince him and decided to do as told.
"Em!" Taurus nodded with a serious face before stepping forward with his axe raised high.
He held the axe tightly and swung down with all of his strength as the axe cut through the pillar before hitting the ground below him.
"What? Why didn't you tell me it was this weird from the start?!" Shock and amazement covered the old man's face, realizing how wrong he was.
He knew his grandson was abnormal, just not to this degree.
"Just Why?!" he cried in terror while both stood frozen in shock.
He took the chance, gripping Taurus and Chris' clothes as a large crack spread across the ground.
The pillars began falling on each other, crumbling from the force caused by flying from a high distance.
He struck the ground with his feet, sending himself flying back.
Meanwhile, the deep crevasse devoured the pillars alongside the entire area.
He stabilized himself before standing still, his eyes wide open, realizing the result of his request.