Chapter 174: Seven Days Later

It had been four days. By now, the sound of the hammer striking metal had become the rhythm of Zac’s existence.

Clang... Heat. Clang... Mana. Clang... Recovery.

Then it started all over again.

At least, there was one visible sign of progress. The once spear-shaped piece of Azryx had finally taken the form of a long blade.

The edges were still rough, and the surface remained uneven, but at the very least, it no longer resembled a sphere.

The hilt, guard, and handle had already been crafted by Siegfried and were being kept aside, waiting for the blade to be perfected before everything was fitted together.

Zac sat near the furnace, a mana crystal clutched in his hand as a steady stream of energy flowed back into his exhausted body.

"I’m going insane."

[It’s a miracle you’re still holding out.]

"You know, after listening to that sound constantly for the past four days, I really can’t take it anymore."

[Understandable. Even I’m beginning to suspect that if I hear one more clang, I may develop hatred for blacksmithing.]

If Zac hadn’t reinforced his ears with a thin layer of mana, he was certain he would have either gone deaf or started hearing phantom hammer strikes for the rest of his life.

Possibly both.

But unlike him, Siegfried showed no indication of stopping.

The old smith stood beside the partially formed long blade, completely absorbed in his work. His clothes were drenched in sweat, while his hair and beard had become thoroughly disheveled.

Even with dark circles beneath his eyes, his hands remained perfectly steady.

"System? Identify the hammer again."

[You’ve already checked it three times in the past hour.]

"I’m bored. I need to focus my attention somewhere else if I’m not going to fall asleep."

[What an excellent reason to waste my time.]

Immediately, information appeared before Zac’s eyes.

Name: Titan Forge Hammer

Grade: ’S’ Rank

Type: Forging Artifact

Special Ability: By infusing sufficient mana, a single physical strike can reproduce the force of multiple consecutive blows.

Additional Ability: A gravity formation is embedded within the hammer, and the smith can increase or decrease the effective force behind each impact by manipulating the gravitational pressure generated by the artifact.

Description: Forged from a specialized meteor iron rarely found even in the most difficult ruins. Specifically created for high-level smithing.

Zac read the description again.

"I never thought the first S-Rank artifact I’d ever see would be a smithing hammer."

His gaze settled on the special ability. "And what’s with that broken ability? One strike equals multiple?"

[Yes. It is entirely dependent on how much mana the wielder can provide. With a single strike, he can determine whether the impact should carry the force of two, five, twenty, or even more consecutive blows.]

[It is an extraordinary hammer for a smith. Too bad it’s only S-Rank.]

"Only S-Rank?It’s a freaking S-Rank."

[From your perspective, S-Rank may be impressive. From mine, it isn’t.]

Zac stared at the hammer for a moment before looking back toward Siegfried. "What else could possibly be above S-Rank?"

He quickly abandoned the thought due to the more immediate problems.

Every strike Siegfried delivered sent tremors through the smithing table, the force reverberating through the entire structure.

Then suddenly, "Zac."

Zac immediately stood up. "Again?"

"What? Did you expect a holiday?"

With a sigh, Zac walked over and placed his hand against Siegfried’s shoulder, and mana began flowing from his body into the old smith.

Siegfried tightened his grip on the Titan Forge Hammer.

Klang!

***

In the central city, inside a particularly secluded mansion, it was a beautiful and peaceful morning.

Or at least, it was for a few moments.

"Mooooommmm!" A voice echoed throughout the mansion. "Mom! Where are you?"

Footsteps thundered through the hallway, and a moment later, Carrie appeared around the corner at full speed.

Martha looked up from where she was sitting. "What is it?"

Carrie stopped in front of her, slightly out of breath. Her expression was a curious mixture of offense and betrayal.

"Mom?"

Martha smiled calmly. "I already asked you. What is it, dear?"

"Brother is in the capital!"

Martha blinked at the declaration. After a moment, she simply nodded. "I know that, Carrie."

Carrie’s eyes widened. "You already know?"

"Of course."

"Then why didn’t you tell me?"

Martha immediately realized where this conversation was heading. "Carrie, I was going..."

"No, no, no, no, no!" Carrie pointed at her accusingly. "You knew he was here before, but I only found out recently!"

"It doesn’t matter, honey."

"Yes, it does matter, because I’m saying it!" Carrie folded her arms, clearly prepared to prosecute the case.

Martha sighed and asked, "How did you find out?"

"Well, I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer."

"Carrie, it’s not the first time your brother hasn’t picked up your call."

"I know. That’s why I called Marty."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "Marty?"

Carrie nodded. "Yes. He said Brother came to the capital because he’s getting some kind of new weapon or something. He’s supposed to be gone for almost a week."

She paused. "So that’s what he’s doing?"

"Don’t, ’So that’s what he’s doing?’ me."

Martha almost laughed at the way Carrie mimicked her.

But Carrie folded her arms even more dramatically and asked, "If he’s already in the capital, why hasn’t he come to visit us?"

"I’m sure your brother has a reason, Carrie."

"What could be a more important reason than visiting his mother and his cute, little, innocent sister?"

"Cute, little, innocent?" Martha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I am."

Martha smiled.

Carrie then suddenly thought of something else. "Mom, how did you know he was here too? Did you also call Marty?"

"No, honey. Armani called and informed me."

Carrie’s expression immediately changed. "Aunty Armani? She called you and didn’t tell me anything?"

Martha tried very hard not to smile.

Unfortunately, Carrie noticed her mother struggling to keep a straight face, which only made her more offended. "Bad people. You’re all bad people. And Carrie hates all of you."

"Isn’t that a little dramatic, honey?"

"No." Carrie pointed accusingly at Martha, who had apparently wronged her. "Brother ignores me, Aunty doesn’t tell me anything, and you knew and didn’t even choose to tell me."

"I was just going to tell you."

"When? After he went back to the academy?" Carrie huffed and turned around. "Fine. Have it your way. I don’t care anymore."

She began walking toward the kitchen. "I am so, so angry."

"That much is obvious," Martha said and noticed where Carrie was heading. "But where are you going? That’s the way to the kitchen."

"I know." Carrie continued walking. "I’m so angry, so I’m going to eat ice cream."

Martha’s smile vanished instantly. "Carrie!"

"Don’t Carrie me. Only eating ice cream will calm me down." She glanced back. "And emotional recovery for a kid like me is important. Don’t you know depression is a main cause of emotional illness?"

Martha caught up to Carrie before she could reach the ice cream. "Don’t you use your brother as an excuse to eat all the ice cream."

***

Seven days had passed since the forging began.

Inside Armani’s pocket dimension, the forging platform was littered with spent mana crystals, empty potion bottles, and discarded tools. Amidst the remnants of the seven-day ordeal, a single object drew the eye.

At the center of the platform laid a newly made long sword. Its blade was black, blacker than the darkest ink one could find on Earth.

Zac sat several meters away with his back against a pillar, so utterly drained that he didn’t even have the energy to look at it.

Every part of his body felt exhausted, as though whatever reserves he had possessed had long since been wrung dry. The constant cycle of absorbing and discharging mana had left his meridians feeling like hollow, overheated tubes.

Across from him, Siegfried was also laid down, his breathing ragged and his entire body worn down by exhaustion.

A few hours ago, the old smith had finally completed the sword. The moment he finished, he had put down his hammer and nearly collapsed onto the stone floor beside the forge.

His chest rose and fell heavily with each breath.

Seven days of searing heat, relentless hammering, precise mana manipulation, and no sleep had reduced even Siegfried to such a state that simply lifting an arm seemed like a chore.

And then there was Armani. For seven straight days, she hadn’t moved a single muscle from her position, sitting almost like a statue.

Her clothes were soaked through with sweat, and strands of hair clung to her forehead and neck.

The immense flow of mana she had displayed on the first day was now little more than a crackling stream, and the strain on her face was becoming increasingly apparent as she struggled to maintain it.

She slowly opened her eyes. "Old man!"

Without even lifting his head, Siegfried answered in exhaustion. "What?"

"Hurry this up. I don’t know how much longer I can maintain this."

Siegfried slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. "What do you mean? Aren’t you Armani Wild, the famous Infamous Wild? Surely one little barrier can’t defeat you, can it?"

Armani narrowed her eyes, and the glare she gave him was cold enough to be genuinely terrifying.

Zac turned his head toward Siegfried. "I don’t think that’s going to sit well with her."

Armani spoke again, her voice calm this time. "If you say something like that again, I’ll teleport myself out of here and let the two of you get swallowed by your precious metal."

Zac immediately thought, "Why am I included too?"

Siegfried turned toward Zac. "She wouldn’t actually do that, would she?"

"I don’t want to find out."

"Fair enough." Siegfried cleared his throat and turned his attention back toward Armani. "We’re almost done."

"Almost?"

"There is only one final step."

Armani closed her eyes again. "Then make it fast."

Siegfried stood up, forcing himself to his feet, and threw a few more mana crystals toward Zac.

Zac barely managed to catch them and looked back at Siegfried through his exhaustion. "You need more?"

"Not for me. It’s for you." Siegfried’s expression became serious. "The last part requires you to be at your full strength."

Zac stared at him. "I don’t think full strength is physically possible anymore."

"I know you’re exhausted, both mentally and physically. If it were up to me, I’d do this on another day, after you had a full rest."

Siegfried glanced toward Armani. "But as you can see, she can’t hold this any longer, and we can’t leave this place while the formation is active. So we have to do it now."

"Now, recover."

Without arguing, Zac closed his eyes and began drawing mana from the crystals. Half an hour later, he forced himself back onto his feet and walked toward Siegfried.

He looked at the sword. "So, are we done?"

"Almost." The old smith’s tone had changed. It was more serious now, with a faint trace of concern beneath it.

He turned toward Zac. "There is one last thing your father gave me."

"The third solution."