The forge's fire crackled, casting amber light over Kaden's furrowed brow as he leaned over the anvil.
The metal plate glowed softly now, its edges etched with runes that seemed to writhe like living things.
Serena lay curled by the hearth, her breath shallow, her muttering from earlier still echoing in his mind—"Abyss… key…"
He flexed his hand, the Forgemaster's Mark throbbing against his palm.
The system's interface had faded after decoding the summoning path, but its words lingered: Recognition successful.
Whatever this plate was, it wasn't just metal.
It was a key.
And keys, Kaden knew, opened doors—often ones better left closed.
But he had no choice.
Not when the shadows from the mine still clawed at his memory, not when Serena's eyes had bled red as if possessed.
He needed answers.
"System," he murmured, voice low, "display Soul Branding Technique."
A blue hologram flickered to life above the anvil, runes spinning into a diagram of a hammerhead, its surface threaded with ghostly veins—souls, he realized, bound to the metal.
The technique required infusing the weapon with a fragment of the user's essence, but Kaden had never tried it on an artifact like the plate.
What if it backfires?
he thought, glancing at Serena.
She hadn't stirred since collapsing, her fingers curled into the hem of her tunic.
He gripped the plate, its warmth seeping into his calloused palms.
The forge's flames roared as he pumped the bellows, heat rising until sweat beaded on his brow.
The plate began to hum, a low vibration that started in his bones and climbed into his teeth.
"Come on," he muttered, pressing his Mark to the metal.
The hum crescendoed.
The plate erupted with light—pale, silvery, not the forge's fire but something older, colder.
A sound split the air, high and clear, like a bell struck from the inside of a coffin.
The anvil trembled; tools clattered off the workbench.
Serena jolted upright, hands clapped over her ears, her eyes wide with terror.
"Serena—!" Kaden reached for her, but the forge itself shook, the floorboards groaning as if the earth beneath were breathing.
The bell's note climbed, piercing, until Kaden's vision blurred.
Then—silence.
Too sudden. Too still.
His ears rang.
Serena panted, her fingers white where they dug into her skull.
And then… the mirror.
It hung in the corner, a dusty relic his master had never bothered to clean.
Now its surface rippled, fog clearing to reveal a man.
He wore a rusted apron, the fabric frayed at the edges, and his face… Kaden squinted.
It wasn't that the man's features were blurred—it was as if they refused to be seen, shifting like smoke when Kaden tried to focus.
But his eyes… they were familiar.
A glint of red, like the crystal in the plate.
The man's lips moved.
No sound, but Kaden felt the words in his chest: "Too soon."
Serena whimpered.
Kaden spun.
She was on her feet now, pointing at the far wall—the one that hid the cellar.
He'd never used it; his master had sealed it with runes after a flood years ago.
But now, the stone groaned, cracks snaking up the mortar like veins.
"Stay close," Kaden said, though Serena was already glued to his side as he approached.
The air smelled of rot and brimstone, thick enough to taste.
He pushed against the door.
It gave with a shriek, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.
A lantern hung by the door.
Kaden lit it, the flame flaring blue for a heartbeat—warded, then steadying.
He led the way down, Serena's hand clutching his sleeve.
The basement was larger than the forge above.
At its end stood a forge—no, a monolith.
Black stone, streaked with veins of gold, and on its anvil lay a warhammer.
Unfinished.
The head was rough-hewn, but the handle… it pulsed, a red crystal embedded in the wood, its light matching the glow of Kaden's Mark.
The system pinged: "Detection complete. Original Forge God Relic identified. Binding will grant access to 'Divine Smithing' but may alert residual energies. Proceed?"
Kaden hesitated.
Alert energies—like the man in the mirror?
Like the shadows in the mine?
But the hammer… it felt like a part of him, as if his blood hummed in time with its pulse.
Then—footsteps.
Heavy, metallic.
Not boots.
Clangs, as if chains dragged on stone.
Serena stiffened.
She pointed upward, her eyes wide.
Kaden's gut tightened.
He grabbed the hammer, shoving it back onto the anvil.
The system's prompt vanished—too late.
The footsteps drew closer, circling the forge.
"Hide," he commanded, pushing Serena towards the brick compartment of the furnace, a space his master had built for emergencies. She scrambled in, her breath ragged.
He doused the lantern, plunging the basement into darkness.
The footsteps stopped outside.
A low growl echoed through the walls, followed by a clink—metal against metal.
A emblem.
Kaden's throat went dry.
The missing smiths—they'd all worn one.
A black anvil, cracked, with a serpent coiled around it.
The footsteps moved again, slow, deliberate, as if testing the w