Morning light slid through the cracks in the forge's roof, turning the drifting dust into gold. The smell of cooled ash and old iron lingered, but for once it didn't sting. The fire had slept well that night.
Outside, the village breathed again. Children's laughter mixed with the dull rhythm of rebuilding; hammers struck scavenged nails, voices carried hope instead of panic.
Alder stood outside the forge door, stretching until his spine cracked. His tunic, borrowed from one of the villagers, still smelled faintly of smoke. "Ahh… this feels great," he said with a grin.
Hunnt looked up from a bucket of cooling water, sleeves rolled to the elbow. His bare, scar-scarred hands gleamed with sweat and soot. The burned leather armor he wore clung loosely to him, full of holes from the fight. Without his gauntlets he looked almost unarmed, yet the steadiness in his gaze said otherwise.
"You're walking again," Hunnt said. "Guess you heal fast."
Alder smirked. "Guess you forge faster."
Hunnt's eyes narrowed with amusement. "Before we leave, one last thing. The mark—where do you want it?"
"The Eternal Mark?" Alder asked.
Hunnt nodded. "Every Wanderer carries it somewhere. Armor, weapon, or even skin. It's not for others to see—it's for the path to remember you."
Alder thought for a moment, then tapped his right shoulder. "Here. If I raise my blade, it'll face the world. Seems right."
Hunnt nodded once. "The shoulder, then." He lifted his left arm. "Mine will be on the gauntlet—when I make it glow, the path shines back."
"You sure you don't want to rest?" Alder asked.
Hunnt only smirked. "Rest when the forge sleeps."
He walked back inside, tying his apron tight. The anvil waited like an altar.
For hours, the clang of hammer and hiss of metal filled the ruins. Sparks leapt from the forge, painting both men in flickers of orange light. Alder watched quietly through the doorway. Hunnt worked without hesitation—striking, cooling, engraving—his movements precise and controlled.
When he pressed the heated emblem into the armor plate, the shape burned bright for an instant: a black circle, an upward triangle, and a small clenched fist at the center. Then the glow sank into the metal as if swallowed by it.
Hunnt whispered, "The path accepts you."
He did the same to his own new gauntlet resting on the bench, branding the left wrist where his pulse beat strongest. The mark flared briefly, then dimmed, leaving only faint heat in the air.
By afternoon, he set the tools aside and called out, "Alder."
The taller hunter ducked through the doorway. "You done?"
Hunnt nodded toward the bench covered in canvas. "See for yourself."
He pulled away the cloth in one motion.
Alder blinked, frozen in place.
There, resting on the anvil, lay the rebirth of two hunters:
A great sword with veins of molten red coursing beneath volcanic black steel. Beside it, crimson armor shimmered faintly, its edges burned dark, a single symbol glowing on the right shoulder plate.
Alder's voice caught. "You—made these?"
Hunnt folded his arms. "Used what we had. The beast's heart, its scales… and our wrecked gear. Yours and mine."
"You melted yours too?"
Hunnt nodded. "Couldn't make something new without giving something up."
Alder stepped closer, reverent. He brushed a thumb across the armor. Warm—almost alive. "It's perfect."
Hunnt gestured at the weapon. "Heartflare Great Sword. Its core carries the monster's heart. Every swing builds heat—Infernal Charge. The longer you fight, the hotter it burns. When full, it ignites."
Alder lifted it carefully. It felt heavy, but balanced—the weight of a promise.
Hunnt continued, "Veilbreaker Slash—a vertical strike that releases a wave of heat. Clears space. And Ashguard halves any fire you block. Finally, Defense Pact: every solid hit thickens your defense. The more you stand your ground, the harder you fall to break."
Alder gave a low whistle. "So it learns with me."
"Something like that," Hunnt said.
He turned toward the armor. "Ember Sentinel Set. Fire-proof plating, built for heat and endurance. Blast Resistance, Heat Guard, and an Attack Boost tied to flame. The mark sits where you chose—right shoulder."
Alder laughed under his breath. "You even gave it breath. Feels like it's still alive."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "It should be. We fought for that life."
Alder ran his hand along the edge of the chestplate, feeling the faint thrum beneath. Then he looked at Hunnt. "And your gear? Same idea?"
Hunnt nodded toward the table where his own set waited. "Veilrend Gauntlets. The old pair's gone. Their bones became this. Black steel, ember veins. Each strike burns with Flame Cloak. Every third combo—Blast Fist. When I dodge, my image splits—Mirage Guard. And when my Haki's active, the veins glow with our emblem—Eternal Resonance."
He reached for his burned leather chestplate and held it up with a half-smile. "The rest will be replaced soon. For now, this old thing will do."
Alder grinned. "You talk like an old man."
Hunnt smirked. "Feels like it."
They both laughed quietly. The sound echoed against the forge walls, softer than hammer strikes but warmer.
Alder looked again at the sword, then at Hunnt. "You did all this without sleep?"
Hunnt shrugged. "Sleep's for after the road."
Alder's gaze softened. "Then… thank you. For everything."
Hunnt shook his head. "No thanks. Just walk the path."
Alder nodded slowly. "I will."
For a long while, they stood in silence, the orange light flickering across new steel and old scars.
Outside, the villagers packed their belongings. The sky was turning amber again, the same color as the forge flame that now bound the two hunters together.
Hunnt glanced toward the door. "Tomorrow, once the villagers are ready to move out, we'll equip the new gear," he said, voice calm but certain.
Alder turned toward him with a smirk. "Can't wait."
Hunnt gave a faint smile, the kind that carried both pride and quiet fatigue. "Then rest well tonight. Tomorrow, we walk as Wanderers."
The forge hissed softly as its flame dimmed, glowing just enough to paint their shadows side by side on the wall — two hunters reborn in the same light.
One forge.
One path.
And soon, one journey to begin again.