The first strike of Kaden's hammer reverberated through the forge, a metallic note that seemed to pierce the thick air.
The mithril, now fused with the dead knight's ashes, glowed an otherworldly blue under the flames—too bright, too alive.
Serena's hands tightened on the bellows, her breath shallow as she fed the fire, her gaze never leaving the crucible.
Kaden's pulse thudded in his ears.
The system's warnings still hummed in his mind: "Soul integration instability detected. Proceed with caution." But caution had never saved his master.
Caution wouldn't unravel the web of the Council, either.
He raised the hammer again, the weight grounding him, and struck—a second note, deeper, resonant.
The mithril shivered, as if responding.
"Thank you," the whisper returned, clearer this time.
Not a trick of the fire.
Kaden's fingers flexed around the hammer.
The dead knight, he realized.
His soul is in there.
A chill crept up his spine, but he pressed on.
Three strikes, four—each blow drawing the metal into the shape of a longsword, its edges beginning to gleam.
Then, the fifth strike.
The mithril screamed.
Not a sound, but a vibration—high, piercing, that made Serena gasp and clutch her ears.
Kaden stumbled back, the hammer nearly slipping from his sweat-slicked palm.
The crucible rattled, the blue flames dimming to a sickly violet.
The system blared: "The Soul imprint is abnormal!" Double will interference detected!
"Double wills?" Kaden muttered, staring at the metal.
It writhed now, not cooling but… resisting.
As if two spirits fought within—one faint, pleading, the other dark, clawing.
Serena's eyes widened.
She abandoned the bellows, her boots thudding on the stone floor as she rushed to the crucible.
Without hesitation, she pressed her palms to its scorching edge, her teeth gritted.
Her lips moved in a silent chant, too low for Kaden to catch, but her eyes—her eyes—flared with gold, the emblem blazing like a brand beneath her irises.
"Serena—!" Kaden reached for her, but she shook her head, her fingers white-knuckled against the crucible.
The flames surged, blue again, but the mithril's thrashing worsened.
Black mist oozed from the cracks in the stone, coiling like snakes toward the ceiling.
"Help me!" she mouthed, her voice a ragged whisper.
Kaden didn't need to be told.
He slammed his palm to the soul forge, channeling his own power-his blood, the dormant dormant bloodline into the flames.
Heat seared his skin, but he pushed harder, sweat dripping into his eyes.
The sword began to take shape: a blade of starlight, hilt etched with runes.
But as the final rune glowed, the metal froze.
Then, it opened—two slits of blood-red light, burning like embers.
A shriek split the air, high and inhuman, and the entire shop shuddered.
Tools clattered off the walls; the anvil skidded across the floor.
Outside, the mist roared, thick and hungry, pouring through the cracks in the windows, pooling at their feet.
Forging out of control! Please terminate immediately! The system's voice was shrill, panicked.
Kaden's jaw set.
He hefted the hammer, its head now glowing from the heat.
"Not yet," he grated, and swung.
The strike landed with a thunderclap.
The sword screeched, the red eyes dimming—but the mist surged, thicker, wrapping around Serena's ankles.
She gasped, her hands slipping from the crucible.
A black tendril slithered up her arm, and she gagged, doubling over, before a cloud of inky smoke coughed from her lips.
It hung in the air for a heartbeat, then dissolved.
Serena collapsed, her forehead hitting the stone with a dull thud.
Kaden lunged to catch her, but she was already slipping, her breath shallow.
He propped her against the anvil, his pulse racing, when a shadow fell across the door.
Isaac.
The fallen knight stood in the threshold, his armor dappled with mist, a grin stretching his lips too wide.
Behind him, the fog swirled like a living thing.
He raised a hand, and the unfinished sword—still writhing, still glowing—tore free from the crucible, flying straight into his grasp.
"Fascinating," Isaac murmured, turning the blade.
Its red eyes flickered, then dimmed, as if cowed.
"The system does respond to… provocation."
Kaden surged to his feet, but his legs wobbled.
His palm burned - the mark of the divine forged bloodline, pulsing hotter than the forge.
"What did you do?"
Isaac's grin sharpened.
Tested a theory. The Council wanted to know if the soust-forging furnace could be... weaponized. It seems they were right." He glanced at Serena, crumpled on the floor, then back at Kaden.
"You should thank me. Now you know what they're capable of."
Before Kaden could move, Isaac vanished—dissolving into the mist, the sword with him.
The fog outside retreated, as if called, leaving only the smell of ash and fear.
Serena stirred, her hand fumbling for Kaden's.
He took it, cold and trembling, and she pressed a scrap of paper into his palm.
Her handwriting was shaky: "They… in taking advantage of you... Test system...
The system pinged, its tone flat: "Forging interruption, obtaining a small amount of craftsmanship spirit value. Warning: This material has been contaminated.
Kaden stared at the empty crucible, at the mist still clinging to the walls.
His blood hummed, a l