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Cursed Forge

Our MC died from protecting her friend and when through a twist of fate, she’s reborn as a member of said Black-Gold Eye Clan. That alone would be unfortunate enough, but to her dismay, her eyes could very well be blind. An Archeologist was reborn burdened with carrying the curse of her Clan carved on her eye. How will she live? How will she survive? Well, that is a future that must be witnessed to be believed. === This novel is focused on Blacksmithing and as you may expect from the title it has something to do with Cursed Weapons. What not to expect: Sandpaper Characters that have no emotion. Plot Armor thicker than a bowl of oatmeal Everything going well for the MC A world that revolves only at the MC An MC who suddenly becomes a badass and kills everyone just because she could. What to expect: Characters that feel alive. A world filled with Lore and has varying cultures. Rational MC but not robotic

Simple_Dynasty · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
7 Chs

Artifact Forging

Grandpa Daval started by creating the core. He grounded the spine, crushed the Black Fire Ore, and put them into a single cylindrical container. He then covered it with ordinary clay before putting it inside the forge to bake.

"This should take two hours." He said to himself before taking the Avaldore (Lava Crodile) Fang and crushing it to powder. Cutting bits and pieces of steel, he once again placed it in a cylindrical container and added what sounded to be liquid.

"What's that, Grandpa?" I asked.

"Solution of a Hellrazer Core's pieces and its bone marrow, as well as a liter of Frost Troll's Blood so it doesn't explode. Hellrazer bone marrow is volatile, and if mixed with the Core, it transforms into an explosive. That's how the Hellrazer's footsteps create explosion. But with the Frost Troll's blood, we avoid that ending. Put all that in a container with steel pieces and a pinch of mithril powder, and the material harmonization should be perfect."

I don't know if Grandpa Daval just believes in my capability to understand, but he just said all that to a 10-year-old like it was nothing. Well, I am not complaining. After all, I have an unnatural ability to memorize fantasy things like spells from an MMORPG.

It sucked back on Earth, but in this world, I am like a scholar!

Grandpa Daval also baked it after covering the container with clay mixed with a Yeti's bone power. While waiting, the passage of two hours, Grandpa worked on the Spear's haft made of pure steel.

It would sound stupid to use a pure steel pole because that would make it too heavy to wield, but here it is not. A refined steel pole would be robust and would last long when used against monsters.

It would not break and could be bent back to place.

Grandpa also engraved on the haft's surface runes meant to reduce its weight. He stopped halfway through and planned on finishing it after he finishes creating the Spearhead.

Two hours finally passed; Grandpa Daval first pulled a mixture of Black Fire Ore and the Rabid Hellhound Spine. Grandpa broke open the cylinder, and then a bright red alloy came out; I looked at it carefully—

ROAR!

"AHH!" I jumped when the image of a hellhound pounced at me, "I-it's alive!"

"Oh, right, this is the first time I showed you how to forge an artifact." Grandpa Daval was nonchalant as he retrieved the mixture, "When in this state, the soul of the material is active, but don't worry, they'll become dormant after its heat settles down." He explained.

It was like how the steel ore would appear when it comes out of the furnace!

"Will they… disappear after being forged into a weapon?" I hesitantly asked.

"Yes and no. What will survive is up to the Blacksmith. Here, the Avaldore will survive even without my interference. It is the strongest amongst the material and there is no contradicting element. The Rabid Hellhound will empower the Avaldore, becoming a part of it. Though it may sound like it will disappear, but how I see it, it will live through the spear."

"...I see." it sounded more beautiful than it should.

The forging continued as we waited for the last material to come out of the furnace; he formed the core. The core would be the spine of the spearhead as it would be where the cutting edge would be wrapped.

Its shape was like that of an arrowtip.

Its tip must be perfectly pointed so that all sides would fit snugly when the edges were placed.

The base before the slanted pyramidic top was about 18 inches long, and then the sloping area extended to about one and a half inches. The spearhead was 24 inches long and its thickness was four and a half.

Shaping the steel with every strike, annealing to avoid hardening, and then cutting the bits without a millimeter of error. The bright red alloy was slowly getting shaped to the desired form while being heat-treated before quenching it in oil, letting it cool down slowly to not make the spine brittle.

The tempering will come next after the cutting edge has been placed; it rested on its own for now.

While letting it cool down, Grandpa moved to create the cutting edge. He broke open the other cylindrical container, and what came out was almost blue in color rather than red.

"This is the effect of Frost Blood and the clay used. The crimson color of the fire is replaced by frost. It weakens the flames of the Avaldore, but in return, its effect will not be lowered when faced against frost."

"But wouldn't this weaken the user's attacking capability?" The spear was obviously crafted for a fire element user, so there was no need to do such a thing, "Will they not be held back by this weapon?"

"Not necessarily, after all – let me ask you, what will happen after the Avaldore overwhelms and devours the Rabid Hellhound's components?"

"Um…" my mind blanked.

Well, the materials are both attuned to fire, and so when the Avaldore devours the Rabid Hellhound… that's it!

"The Rabid Hellhound Spine will empower the Avaldore that lost its strength!"

"That's correct; it will devour the Hellhound for more power."

Hell yeah, I really am a Scholar in the making.

"What I'm doing here is balancing the power of the spear. So it does not overwhelm the user, while also adding any possible resistance to weakness."

Grandpa Daval began hammering the blue alloy, stretching it out until it reached a certain length which he then cut in half.

"Fay, get the core and place it here!"

"I can help?" this never happened before.

"Yes, come on now and do it before the edge wrap cools."

"OKAY!"

Going around the forge with my kind of eyes was dangerous, but I already registered where everything was and where the item I was searching for was located. I grabbed the core with a tong.

"Don't let go, else it would be a problem. I trust you can do this, Fay?"

"YES!"

Grandpa Daval shoved the still red hot edge wrap on the core.

Grandpa then took the tong from me to get a better control and began hammering on it to weld the two together. Spreading ashes on its surface, hammering it down so that the wrap conforms to the shape of the core.

BAM!

It felt as though I was being pushed back, not just from the force of Grandpa's strength. No… it was because of something else.

Something I didn't expect.

Right before me was not the spearhead being hammered. No, what I saw was different.

It was Rabid Hellhound's rejection of the Avaldore.

Its defiance against fate.

'...what is this?' It was like I was seeing a different world.

Is this… what an Artifact Forging is?

I saw it clearly, how the Rabid Hellhound awakened from its slumber by the rampaging Avaldore. The giant maw of the Avaldore clamped down on the Hellhound. Trying to rip its neck apart.

"You're awfully silent, Fay."

"Huh? Yes, it's just that… this sight is new to me."

"What, me hammering a spearhead? Haven't you been watching me do this since you were seven?"

"No… what I meant is the fight between the two souls. I… didn't know the souls were going to fight like this."

To think the mystical way of forging an Artifact was like this. A true battlefield of the soul. What would prevail would dictate the attribute and capabilities of the spear.

"Amazing." I could not take my eyes away from them.

"…Fay, what do you see as I hammer down on this spearhead?"

"Two beasts, fighting for dominance… the Hellhound doing its best to reject the Avaldore while the latter does the opposite. Every strike of the hammer, one of the others gains the upper hand."

BANG!

"The Avaldore attacked with its tail, and the Hellhound dodged."

BANG!

"The Hellhound breathed fire and successfully inflicted damage to the Avaldore."

BANG!

Every strike signified a new movement, the battlefield of the two souls continued to change. The flow of their battle continued as if it knew no end.

…I was drawn into a different world where it felt like I commanded the two beings… I can see their movements, every nuance.

"Why? Why is the Avaldore struggling to devour the Hellhound… is it due to the inconsistency of the strikes?" The world around the Avaldore and the Hellhound started to crack.

Gray spots are beginning to surface on the ground they stood on.

But they continued fighting.

"No! The world is crumbling!"

"What do you mean?" I heard a distant voice.

I answered almost by reflex, "The world is crying… the balance is being destroyed, the taint spreading like the plague. The strikes that command the world must be precise."

My consciousness slowly drifted as I talked.

"It can be remedied… but it will never be the same."

Hmmm? Since when have I known this?

The Avaldore must win and devour the Hellhound else the world will collapse.

"…can you tell me where I must strike?" There it is again, a voice entering my ears, a hazy figure in front of me. He held a hammer and seeing as he waited for my command, I pointed to a gray spot.

BANG!

One of them disappeared…

In this world… I control its fate.

"Over there… and there!"

BANG! BANG!

With my every command, the gray spots plaguing the world disappeared, the Avaldore quickly gained the upper hand.

Then a Golden Light appeared… but it soon changed. Becoming darker and darker. Becoming something ominous, "A Black Light? Then… that must be… it."

I pointed at the black light and uttered, "There."

BANG!

The thunderous echo of the hammer awakened me from—wait, what have I been doing? Hmm?

"Oh, you finished it, grandpa! Congratulations!"

"Fay?"

Hmm? Why is Grandpa's tone like that?

"Wait, when did you finish it? Was I dozing off? Dammit, I couldn't watch it. Can we do it again, Grandpa? Please… please… I saw something really cool!"

"Fay, are you okay?"

"Huh? Why won't I… be? Huh? What's happening?"

What's going on? Did I just fall to the ground?

I… can't… feel my legs…

Anxiousness

Did I get stabbed again?

Alarmed

… am I going to die again? Haha

Fear

Everything became dark. So dark that not even the hazy figures were there anymore.

"Grandpa!? Where are you!?! ANSWER ME PLEASE!" don't leave me… please.

I didn't want to be in that darkness again. Help… someone! HelP!

I was scared.

"ay? — FAY!" Grandpa Daval's words pierced my head.

"Gra-grandpa?"

I felt someone's touch; it was Grandpa. I held onto his clothes. Desperately holding on him.

"I don't want to disappear into the dark… What's happening to me? Why can't I see anything? Grandpa? Mom? Moom… where are you?"

Tears began to fall.

"What's happening to me?"

I felt my body being lifted. Carried someplace else.

Soft whispers could not reach me, but I then heard Grandpa shouting out loud.

"ILIA! FAY'S EYES ARE GONE!!"

Thanks for reading :)

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