The forge burned through the night.
Flames rippled in gold and crimson waves, their light dancing against the walls of blackened stone. The air shimmered with heat, the sound of crackling fire mixing with the faint hum of molten metal. Sparks burst with every breath of the bellows — tiny comets that died before reaching the floor.
Hunnt stood at the heart of it all, shirt rolled to his elbows, skin glistening with sweat and soot. His eyes — calm, sharp, and unwavering — reflected the firelight. He hadn't slept in two days. Not since gathering the last of the missing hides and scales from their recent hunts.
Now, the materials lay before him, perfectly arranged across the anvil table — each one humming faintly with its own aura.
Ignivar Wing. Seraphic Core. Blazeblast Spine. Basal Ore Husk.
Four trophies, four elements — air, spirit, fire, and stone. The essence of every trial the Eternal Wanderers had overcome.
Hunnt exhaled slowly. His voice was quiet, almost reverent.
"Each piece carries a memory. Let's make sure it lives again."
He tightened the strap on his hammer — the same one he'd used since Ravenshire. The metal was worn and scarred, the handle darkened by years of heat and battle. But it still sang when raised.
Hunnt placed the first fragment — the Ignivar Wing — into the crucible. Fire hissed as the molten light consumed it, turning the shard into a flowing streak of red-gold liquid. Next came the Seraphic Core, glowing faintly white, like the beating heart of a star. When the two met, the flames erupted higher, burning blue for a single instant before settling again.
Then Hunnt closed his eyes.
The world fell silent — only the sound of his heartbeat remained.
Black ripples spread from his arms as Armament Haki coated his muscles, crawling like ink beneath his skin. His breathing slowed, the energy condensing, focusing.
When he lifted the hammer, the air around it trembled.
The first strike fell.
CLANG.
The sound split the silence like thunder.
Heat roared outward from the anvil, the metal screaming as sparks erupted in all directions. Each blow struck with precision — not just brute strength, but willpower made manifest. His Haki bled into the steel with every impact, reinforcing the alloy, weaving his spirit into the weapon itself.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Hours passed, though Hunnt never counted them. Sweat ran down his jaw, his breath deep and steady, his movements smooth and deliberate. The molten light flared brighter with each strike, reacting to his heartbeat. The forge itself seemed alive, pulsing to the rhythm of his hammer.
By dawn, the shape began to reveal itself.
A sleek, elegant frame of metal and fire.
Hunnt quenched the weapon in oil and lifted it with both hands. The light of the forge gleamed across its surface — a light bowgun, refined and deadly, its body carved with flowing runes that glowed faintly like burning embers.
He turned it over, testing the chamber, adjusting the recoil mechanism. Each click, each motion, felt perfectly balanced.
The name came to him naturally, spoken aloud as though the weapon itself whispered it into his mind:
"Wyrmflare Tempest."
---
He set the bowgun on the table and examined his creation under the glow of the forge.
It was unlike any weapon he had ever made.
The design fused the ferocity of Ignivar's flame with the calm precision of Ravina's ash. Its structure was forged from Blazeblast Spine, reinforced with Basal Ore Husk, making it capable of withstanding heat and pressure without cracking.
Fitted along the frame were three enhancements — each carefully crafted by Hunnt's own hand:
Recoil Suppressor, built to steady aim and absorb explosive force.
Reload Assist, a mechanical slide that allowed smooth, uninterrupted chamber rotation.
Power Barrel, for concentrated, high-velocity shots capable of piercing through scaled hide.
When he raised it, the bowgun felt alive. The barrel glowed with faint veins of red light that dimmed with every heartbeat — like a living creature breathing in sync with its wielder.
"This is yours, Kael," Hunnt murmured. "Precision, control… and fire. You'll see every strike before it happens."
He placed the weapon gently on a cloth of blackened linen, letting it rest beside its twin creation — the Ashwing Vanguard, a newly forged armor set meant for speed, endurance, and protection.
The armor shimmered between shades of ashen silver and faint crimson, as though torn between fire and smoke. Its plates were layered for mobility — light enough for movement, yet durable enough to deflect claws and firebursts.
The chestplate bore no markings except for one: a faint triangle with a clenched fist engraved at the collar — the Eternal Mark.
To anyone else, it was just a decoration.
But to those who walked the Path, it was everything.
It was belonging. Purpose. Home.
Hunnt lifted the pendant that would accompany the armor — a small black metal emblem attached to a leather cord. It caught the forge light for a brief second before darkening again.
He smiled faintly, whispering under his breath,
"Even the wind has a mark to return to."
---
When the weapon and armor were done, the forge finally grew quiet.
The flames dimmed to a steady orange glow, the air heavy with the scent of smoke and steel. Hunnt leaned against the anvil, wiping his brow.
For the first time in weeks, he allowed himself a breath of calm.
The Wyrmflare Tempest gleamed on the rack beside the Ashwing Vanguard, waiting for the one it was forged for. Kael's reflection glimmered faintly on its surface — as if the fire itself recognized its wielder.
Hunnt watched in silence, his mind already shifting to the next challenge.
In the corner of the forge, other materials waited — Vulcarion's cooled fragments, Ignivar Rex heavy scale, bones blackened from centuries of heat. Each piece would soon find its purpose.
But tonight, Hunnt allowed the forge to rest.
He sank onto the wooden bench, rolling his shoulders as the last embers flickered.
The heat around him whispered like an old friend — alive, but at peace.
The first weapon of the new generation was born.
The flame of the Eternal Wanderer burned brighter than ever.