Every time the hammer struck the blade, it felt less like they were shaping metal and more like trying to push a heavy creature into the depths of the ocean, slow, resistant, and strange. It was as if the sword blank beneath the hammer wasn't metal at all, but condensed magic itself.
To the young centaurs watching nearby, the sight was nothing short of miraculous. With each powerful strike, a burst of magical energy scattered into the air, glowing like gold and silver dust flung across the sky.
But what they saw as beauty was actually the sword purging itself, those shimmering sparkles were magical impurities being forced out of the blade.
Arcs of magical electricity began to rise from the sword, repelling the tools. The bright flashes dulled and disappeared, replaced by faint, muffled poof sounds as the hammers met resistance before they could strike the surface.
"We just have to keep this up," Alex said, his voice tinged with excitement as he stared at the evolving sword. "Once there are no impurities left, it'll be done."
Without wasting time, he summoned Fiendfire again. The flame burned brighter, fiercer this time, and everyone watching could tell that it was burning for much longer than before.
The sword glowed red once again, and Alex and Brand resumed forging without delay.
They repeated the process over and over. Each round of forging drove out more impurities, until the golden sparks faded almost completely. What remained was a sword that gleamed with a soft silver light, occasionally flickering with arcs of lightning across its surface.
Even the Fiendfire seemed to struggle against the sword. With each attempt, it took longer to heat the blade, and eventually, it could no longer turn it red, only a faint pink hue remained.
"Brand," Alex said urgently, his grip tightening, "this is the last moment!"
The elder centaur, Brand, gave a solemn nod when he heard the words. He then drew on every last ounce of strength and slammed the glowing sword blank down onto the anvil with a resounding crash.
His body was already worn out from the intense forging earlier. Every strike with the alchemy hammer drained magic from him, and the repeated hammering had taken a heavy toll.
But now, with the 'Magical Artifact' nearly complete, and with him playing a crucial role in its final moments, Brand found a new surge of energy.
As if the weariness had been forcefully stripped from his limbs, his muscles tightened with renewed vigor. Each strike of his hammer felt like he was giving it his all, his body and soul poured into every blow.
Meanwhile, Alex wasn't doing much better. Besides managing the heat and flames of the forge, he also had to keep feeding magic into the sword's body.
He had already gone through several potions to stay on his feet, but even those were barely helping now. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on, holding nothing back.
BANG! CLANG! BANG!
The sharp clangs of metal striking metal echoed through the air, cutting through the tension as the crowd watched in silence. But something changed, those crisp sounds quickly turned into a strange, sticky poof, like metal sinking into something thick and heavy.
At the same time, the silver-blue arcs of electricity running along the sword's surface grew denser and more defined, until the blade itself looked less like a sword and more like a spear of pure lightning in their eyes.
With a deep breath, he dropped the alchemy hammer and reached out with his right hand to grab the lightning-forged blade in front of him.
Brand Warden immediately noticed and stopped swinging the hammer. He took a cautious step back, his expression hard and tense.
He had already sensed that the blade could no longer be refined with hammer blows, the earlier strikes had already made that clear. From here on out, whatever happened was beyond his understanding.
BOOM!
The moment Alex's hand wrapped around the hilt, a deafening crash of thunder split the sky. Above them, the clouds twisted violently, forming a massive vortex like a storm raging in reverse. It looked like the eye of a typhoon had torn open in the heavens.
Alex panicked a bit when he saw the clouds begin to swirl, but the moment his hand wrapped around the thunder sword, he felt something shift.
The "Thundris Tempest" rune engraved in the blade suddenly became lively, almost playful, like an excited child finally meeting its favorite person. It made him pause. Wondering if the strom were happening because of the rune?
Realizing this connection, Alex's nerves began to settle. Encouraged by this feeling, he raised the long sword high over his head, pointing it directly at the swirling eye of the storm above, his posture proud and confident.
There was a kind of daring energy in the way he held it, as if he believed he could pierce the very sky itself.
Alex stood there, holding the sword aloft like some mythical hero waiting for the heavens to respond. He held the pose, half expecting a bolt of lightning to come crashing down in dramatic approval.
But the thunderclouds above didn't even flinch. They just floated there, heavy and dark, as if entirely uninterested in whatever was going on beneath them.
The people watching from below all stared at Alex with wide eyes, clearly impressed, even if none of them had any clue what was happening.
Their expressions read something like. 'I don't understand it, but it looks kind of powerful, so I'll just nod along.'
Alex, on the other hand, started to feel... well, a little stupid. His lips curled in exasperation as he lowered the sword and let out a long breath through his nose. "Seriously?" he muttered to himself.
He had stood there like some heroic statue, posing dramatically for a good minute, only for the storm to completely ignore him.
It was like preparing yourself for an epic boss battle, only to find out the 'enemy' was actually just a crowd of cosplayers walking by.
Not that it was really his fault. He had just finished forging a thunder-element magical sword, and a whole storm had gathered right above them. Anyone would've assumed the ancient rune is calling the storm to absorb the energy.
After a few more awkward seconds of silence, even the sparks and arcs of lightning around the blade started to die down. The silver-blue glow faded, retreating into the sword's body, leaving behind a beautifully crafted sword that shimmered faintly in the storm's dim light.
Alex, now more than done with pretending to be dramatic, lowered the weapon and examined it more closely.
The blade was a gleaming silver, glowing faintly with a mysterious phosphorescence that made it stand out even in the shadow of the dark clouds. Its design was seamless, the blade and hilt were forged as one.
All it needed now was a layer of leather around the hilt to make it battle-ready.
Holding it in his hands, Alex couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.