The old blacksmith seemed to scrutinize John with a mix of surprise and amusement as he finally came to only for John's eyes to widen at the sight of him. The old man's Right arm and leg seemed to have been replaced with smooth yet rough prosthetics layered with sharp spikes and clear attachments, bits of his salt and pepper beard clearly replaced with bits of steal before speaking with a far thicker Scottish accent than he had the last time they met taking him by surprise. "My word lad, you disappear for weeks, forsake practice in carving or smithing to pursue cookin' of all things? And yet, ye've even managed to acquire a harem! I don't know if I should be poundin' yer head for neglectin' yer practice and what I had told ya or bein' proud o' ye for showin' ye've got what it takes to be a real man!" He nodded approvingly before giving a wide, teasing smirk as he looked at John's muscled form. "An' look at ye, ye even look more manly now!"
"Well, a lot of shit happened and I didn't really have much time to properly practice with everything going on. I haven't even gotten my own forge or table yet, well I do technically have the barest forms of it but like I said, a lot of shits being going on and I haven't had much time to actually try them. At best, I've only managed to acquire a hammer and some basic tools. The rest I still need to set up. But during the time I was gone I was in my mind, I was practicing there and learning a range of things, even if my bodies not quite caught up yet I'm hoping to use that to my advantage and correct any problems as I develop a form of muscle memory. As for the 'manly' look, it won't last long. I'm planning to regain me far more cuddly and preferred form. I mean for fuck's sake how can anyone enjoy being this stiff and solid? Being soft and cuddly is far better especially since you can absorb blows far better and easier, being hard just means less layers between blows landing and your internals. I even developed a way to fight while stuck in my mind, or at the very least the beginnings of one using the principles of 'defeat hard with soft'. Even if I am still hesitant to kill other humans… But enough about me, what in the fuck happened to you? Have you decided to gone Anakin on me, with the bonus of a replaced leg? Maybe jumping straight to being a knock off discount Vader?"
The old man chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, lad, last time I forced ye away, 'shit happened' a bit later, but dinnae let it bug ye. An' look who's talkin'! That arm of yours is as dead as a doornail." He shrugged, a twinkle in his eye. "I suppose that's what we'll be workin' on this time, then."
John's eyes widened in surprise at that. "Imma teach ye how to give some life to steel, so ye can get some use out o' that arm of yours, lad so it aint just a fancy decoration attached ta ye. Or maybe ye'd rather cut it off an' make a full arm like me hand an' leg? We could match!" the old man seemed to clearly be enjoying himself as his laughter echoed through the room, causing John to scowl.
Time passed steadily after that as John surprised him once more by picking up the technique quickly, even faster than the last time he was taught. He managed to cause the armored sleeve the old man created for him to move and act like his old arm, albeit far more clumsily and more unnaturally, needing a lot of focus but it was definite progress.
"Now, lad, grab yer hammer an' follow me," he instructed, leading John though the forest to a small clearing. Large, furry white creatures stood around, bumping into each other with no apparent purpose, reminding of the blank souls from Bleach or Cousin IT from The Adams Family.
"Your test, lad, is to live till ye wake up in about ten minutes. Good luck with that," The smith said with a grin before pushing him forward and throwing a spike into the ground and a metal cube into the group of creatures. A wall quickly formed around them, trapping John with the beasts which began to shake and turn red, slowly transforming into needle-covered monstrosities with razor-sharp teeth and six claws springing out along their sides. Their non-existent eyes turned to John as they charged at him with loud screeching sounds.
Swinging his hammer, John managed to knock the first one back slightly, causing it to impact a few others behind it only to be caught off guard by another slipping past it, its claws slicing into his side. His attempt to block with his steel covered arm didn't help much - the creatures' fur and claws left deep grooves across it and if he hadn't pulled back at the last moment, he would have lost the arm entirely.
Pulling out Alice's knife from a chain he gripped it in his metal-clad hand, feeling it merge with the arm and taking him by surprise as it formed into a small sword that stretched from the top of its fist, using the newly formed blade to block strikes as he continued swinging the hammer in the other well trying to stray alive.
The creatures were relentless, their loud screeches filling the air as they continued to swarm him. Their numbers made them seem like one giant, needle-furred beast of claws and teeth as they fell over each other to get to him. His body was covered in blood and scratches, his right eye shut, having suffered a scratch from one of the beasts that managed to get in a lucky shot that he couldn't pull out of the range of in time.
Yet as the fight continued, something began to change and stir within him. his body started to dodge slightly better, his movements growing slower and smaller yet somehow smoother. The blows they landed dealt less damage and his hammer and sword blade redirected some of the beasts' claw strikes at each other, even piercing one through a malformed biting maw hidden beneath its fur.
The stabbed beast let out a guttural cry of pain as it reverted to its previous white and soft form for a brief moment before its fur began to rot and fall to the floor. His focus was on the remaining horde though, smiling slightly as he abruptly felt a pulling sensation, signaling he was waking up. He did his best to remember the feelings he'd had as he dodged the red menaces, the focus and peace that washed over him that allowed him to move easier.
Soon after having left back to the waking world the old smith stepped into the clearing, the creatures slowly returning to their placid forms before wondering away into the forest. In the end John had survived his test, having adapted to the creatures' attacks and even exhibiting signs of something more, possibly elements of that fighting style he had mentioned. Walking forward he picked up a piece of fur, a mix of surprise, pride and worry visible on his face. "Not bad, lad. Ye've come a long way but ya got a long way still ta go."