The Workings Of Fate

Preparations were currently underway for the impending conquest of the Forest of Aeternitas, the goblins' enhanced physiques required larger garments to cover their nether regions. This was a task with quite high priority on the list of preparations due to a certain trait that the goblins were infamous for - their lust. Even with the increased mental acuity gained through their transformation, they could barely hold back from pouncing on members of the opposite sex after the ritual. The goblin's already scarce clothing did not survive their transformation, leaving the lust-driven beings in the nude; a situation that screamed trouble. 

It was the words of the Apostle of Corruption that prevented that situation from exploding into a wild orgy of unknown proportions, this speech also reminded the goblins of her fearsome presence that their libido-induced trance had temporarily blocked out. This was why the now purple beings diligently worked away at producing makeshift armour that would serve as some degree of protection; some goblins did disappear from time to time to "blow off some steam". Armour wasn't the only thing that was currently being produced, as the only two blacksmiths - the forge master and his son - were being worked to the bone to forge as many swords and daggers as possible. 

Unlike the other goblins who live for blood and sex, the blacksmith duo only lived for the heat of the forge, the clanging of their hammers and the creation of perfect tools for slaughter...and sex. Once a goblin, always a goblin. 

The two couldn't care less about the order to produce weapons without any breaks for they would have done that without any orders, the enhancement brought by the ritual allowed their stagnant forging prowess to flourish. Not taking advantage of this blessing bestowed upon them by their new Lord would be a crime, and thus the current situation was created.

"Rak, are there enough for the scout unit to depart?"

The hammers came to a halt as this question resounded through the forge, as Rak, the forge master, turned to address the owner of the voice whilst his son bowed his head as a show of respect.

"Sha-I mean Priest Thrag...excuse me, it'll take a bit of getting used to this but to answer your question, yes, my son and I should have forged more than enough weapons for the scout unit."

A purple-skinned man with short, grey hair nodded his head to the forge master's response before signalling to a goblin that stood beside him. No words were needed as the goblin understood what was needed of her as she bowed to the man before running off in a certain direction. Stroking the wispy hairs of the small beard that sat on his chin, Thrag glanced at the trusty blacksmith duo, appreciating the changes that they had undergone as well as their resolve to improve. The priest had known Rak since the day the forge master was born. As the village shaman, Thrag was able to divine the birth of goblins who would enable their village to prosper. The previous village head was one of those goblins as well as the forge master, and what was shocking about this all was the fact that Rak's value was higher than that of the deceased goblin chief. 

It is important to know that the previous chief possessed a Node - a Node of Strength - which was a rarity among monsters, especially since those rare few had the potential to grow into calamities capable of altering the hierarchy of power in the Primordial Seed. Such a being's value was lower than that of an ordinary blacksmith, or was he ordinary? If you asked Thrag what he saw that day, silence would be the only answer you would receive, for the grandeur of the sight the priest saw that day would leave even the greatest of kings speechless.

Divinity.

That's what Thrag saw.

Weapons that had achieved a fragment of divinity. Weapons that matched and even sometimes exceeded the powers of calamities.

The divination on that fateful day heralded the birth of a divine blacksmith. 

Such a being's worth soared past that of a calamity; they forged weapons that could turn their wielders into calamity slayers. Alas, such heaven-defying talent was suppressed by the limits of the body that housed it - goblins could only become so strong and the forging of divine weapons required immense strength. 

But it appears even fate refused to let such talent go to waste as a certain Asura happened to stumble upon their village with the intention of gathering followers for her Lord. And now, the path of the divine blacksmith was open once again with the only thing that could possibly hold him back being his resolve. And that was no concern for Rak had dedicated his life to the hammer and the anvil, even when he had entered his stagnant period, the young goblin had searched for other ways to further himself along the path of blacksmithing. This was why Rak's weapons could raise a specific attribute of their wielders - this was all dependent on the type of weapon that was being used.

This skill that Rak had acquired was only available to those who had managed to birth a Spark of Creation specific to blacksmithing. A weapon's quality would increase with the blacksmith's skill, and the skill of the blacksmith was limited by the maximum strength of their body. Theoretically, if the blacksmith were to have no cap to their strength, they would eventually become capable of forging weapons that would be almost unbreakable as well as the potential to deal terrifying amounts of damage. This was the linear path of blacksmithing that had an endpoint.

Then there was the exponential path to which there was no end.

The Spark of Creation being the key to this path.

Increasing the attributes of the users was merely the beginning of this path as Rak would find out what true blacksmithing was as he progressed. 

Shaking his head as if to snap himself out of the memories of the past, the First Priest focused on the forge master who had remained in place the entire time.

"Are you growing again Rak?"

The soft tone of the priest's question awoke certain memories in the forge master, evoking a small smile on his face.

Nodding his head, he replied,

"Yes, priest...I am"

"Then can you see it again?"

Rak's eyes widened as he stared into the eyes of the priest who had once been the shaman he always confided in before his smile grew.

"Yes priest, I do", the forge master chuckled.

"I can see divinity"

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White.

Pure white.

Those were the only words that could perfectly encapsulate the armour he was adorned in. From head to toe, he was covered with this pristine metal suit; not even his eyes for the visor had no slots. A thick cape of the same pristine white flowed from his back along with a long plume that cascaded from the top of his helmet to the base of his neck. It was like one of the guardians of paradise had descended upon the mortal plane, gracing the world with his presence.

It was a beautiful image.

Even with the inhumanly large greatsword that sat upon his left shoulder with the handle held in his left hand. It was the only discrepancy in the image. A glimmering, black slab of metal with elegant gold runes tracing down the centre, it looked more like a work of art than a tool for killing. 

Right now, this knight was walking along a brightly lit hallway with the sound of his sabatons clunking against the stone flooring filling the silence. Along the stone walls were bright white rocks held by metal constructs, which seemed to be the hallway's source of light. The knight marched through with great familiarity before coming to a stop before a set of great oak doors that were decorated with golden runes reminiscent of the ones that traced his sword.

Patiently, he remained standing in front of these doors, refusing to enter until he received permission from the being that awaited on the other side of these doors. And permission he received.

"Come in, Lucius"

The doors opened at the words of the deep, magnetic voice that invited the white knight, Lucius, into a small hall that was just as brightly lit as the hallway if not more.

At the end of the hall was a great statue depicting a blindfolded woman in a sleek dress, holding a set of scales in one hand and a longsword in the other. A figure robed in white could be seen kneeling before this statue seemingly in prayer, with their medium-length golden hair being the only visible feature.

"It seems young Edin didn't make it", the figure stated with a questioning tone.

"Yes, Lord Apostle"

Upon hearing Lucius' response, the figure turned their head slightly, revealing a snow-white visage with rosy lips sporting a soft smile. But what stole all the attention was the black cloth that hid away his eyes

"Interesting"