The battle taking place in front of Mark was a clash of swords. Different types of swords with different shapes and differently colored metals which Mark could tell was because of the different alloys each sword was made of. Some of the swords in the clash were two-handed and some were one-handed while some people in the fight wielded a sword in each hand.
Mark tried to focus on these people's faces, but try as he might he was unable to clearly see what they looked like.
'Well, it seems I am not here to take account of the people fighting in this battle. These swords must have some sort of significance to them. Each one looks to be a different sword, but it appears that there is not one sword that is better than another. . .'
Mark moved throughout the battlefield to get a good look at the swords that were clashing together. He noticed that there was no difference in the wielders of the swords in terms of power, only in how the sword was designed to be utilized.
There were some fighters that could deliver powerful blows but were subject to counterattacks if their target managed to dodge or deflect the blow. There were fighters who were quick and nimble with swords, which allowed them to make quick attacks, but there was not as much power between their attacks. These fighters had to be as accurate in their blows as they were fast if they wanted to get death blows in this fight.
Each type showed their strengths and weaknesses over the course of the battle as Mark watched, finding no singular weapon to be the best. They all seemed to have their utility in his eyes so he just continued to watch. The battle was fierce with arms getting sliced off and heads rolling in the blood-soaked dirt.
Neither side seemed to be gaining ground as they both had an assortment of people wielding the different styles of swords. They just killed each other and moved on to the next person, each trying to overcome the other with their ability with the sword.
The battle had to shift several times as bodies began to pile up as the corpses of the fallen did not make great footholds. Mark watched the battle flow and shift as one side would gain traction for mundane reasons and the other would overcome the advantage just for it to all end up in a stalemate again.
While Mark was watching these events, Anabel was seeing the light show of a lifetime. Every time Mark brought his hammer down, the flames that burst out were a different color. Sometimes they were green, sometimes white, blue, and even purple to match the color the crystal on his hammer gave off.
"I knew there was something magical about the way he was doing his forging! There is no way that is normal!"
Anabel found herself talking out loud as she thought due to her fascination with the work being done by Mark. As she watched, the strikes of the hammer that began as a simple pattern that almost sounded like music began to take on a discordant rhythm.
When she noticed the hammer strikes become discordant in their pattern and sounds, she also noticed that the colors of each hammer strike began to mix. Instead of having a single color but different with each hammer strike, now the color of the flames seemed to be a mixture of several colors that were each trying to overtake the other colors.
As the flames tried to gain dominance over each other, she noticed that the blade seemed to be heating up even more than before. On top of that, even the flames in the forge seemed to be getting brighter and hotter. Even from her spot, which had some distance from the workplace, she was feeling the heat and began to sweat.
A worried look took over her face as she realized that Mark had to be experiencing a much greater heat than usual, but she didn't try to interrupt him as he was working just as hard as ever. He did not seem to be deterred by the great heat and each strike of his hammer looked methodical despite the discordance in the rhythm and tone of the strikes.
While the flames of the hammer strikes seemed to shoot out from the point of impact and dance around his hands and torso, they never seemed to burn him or his blacksmithing apron. These observances worked to assuage the fear that began to assault Anabel, and she managed to calm down but she did have to find a new place to watch Mark from.
Once she settled a good distance away from the heat, the cool mountain breeze was finally able to reach her and help to cool her down. She realized that she had been exposed to a slow increase in heat and had actually managed to become quite hot while Mark was working and it was not until she was exposed to the actual temperature of the mountain that she realized how long the heat of the forge had been building up.
She looked back toward the peak that stood over the village, and she could see the snow cap at the top in the distance giving off some snow in the wind as the wind blew the loose ice off of the peak. The violet plum blossoms from the wild plum trees could be seen blowing over the village which added to the peaceful scenery that helped Anabel to relax after being exposed to such high temperatures for so long.
After getting her fill of the beautiful scenery, she turned her attention back to Mark who was still working as hard as ever. The flames from the sword seemed to get even bigger and more colorful as did the flames of the forge. The flames in the forge even seemed to be coming out to try and lick at Mark as he continued to hammer the sword, with the flames from the sword even lashing out to meet the forge flames from time to time. The bursts of light from the hammer added to the dazzling display of color that was taking place in the forge as Anabel began to feel the heat once more.
Her previously calm expression began to take on a worried look once again as she realized that Mark was being exposed to some seriously dangerous heat at this point. She could see the wood pillars of the smithy begin to give off steam from trapped water in the porous wood material which could not be a good sign.
Meanwhile, Mark was oblivious to the heat as he continued to spectate the battle which had raged on for days in his mindscape.
"I wonder what the point of the battle is if neither side seems to be winning. . . either side could benefit from a commander giving orders to prevent this stalemate."
With his words though out loud, both sides received reinforcements from the distance as they normally did, but this time there was a larger person with both groups that began to give out orders to the people fighting as they stayed in the back.
With the addition of the commanders of each side, the battle began to pick up pace as the stalemate became more dynamic. With each side gaining an advantage through tactics, the battle was being won in some areas and lost in others. The commanders were pressing on weak points and sending reinforcements where they were losing ground.
The battle line disappeared as chaos took over with the battle shifting to large groups of people fighting in areas of the battlefield while others remained empty. The commanders seemed to be aware of the situation and were taking advantage of it with their strategic deployment of troops, but Mark could see that it was still just a stalemate. It just looked more chaotic than before.
"Hmm, the swords all seem to be equally matched without there being a definite 'best' sword. It is the same with the commanders, due to their ability to lead being equal, the battle has just devolved into chaos. . ."
Mark continued to watch for a while as the battle managed to reach an equilibrium where the chaos had abated and given rise to multiple battle fronts which the commanders had to keep track of simultaneously. When Mark looked at this, he wondered what could be done to win the battle on either side but he did not have a good answer.
As he came to the conclusion that the battle would have to be won through attrition, he was brought out of his mindscape and back to the forge. He could hear Anabel yelling at him from a distance but he was focused on the dented, chipped, and warped blade in his hands.
He flipped the sword over and examined every angle and noticed that he had finished both sides at some point, but he had not managed to correctly bond the alloy together. The blade was a mixture of different colors without any single color managing to have the dominant appearance of the blade which made it look like a rainbow without any sort of pattern.
To make matters worse, the bonding was incomplete in some areas leaving gaps between the different alloys of metals, while some areas seemed to bond together but were just melted and cooled on top of each other.
Mark couldn't help but think, "Damn, this sword is a mess. What the hell happened. . . the fifth step has never turned out like this."
He turned the warped sword over and noticed that there was no pattern to the bends and cracks, it looked like someone tried to destroy it and failed. And the colors of the sword were new as the alloy he created was always silver, like steel. The color usually came off of the glint in the metal from the reflection of the light. He could even see some of the old grey from the base sword poking out which he thought he had already fixed in the previous alloy, but it seemed like whatever happened this time had caused the bonding process to somehow come undone.
"This is going to take years to fix. . .damnit. I need to call it a day. . ."
He then remembered that Anabel was calling for him from a distance and he looked up, realizing why she had been yelling at him this entire time.