The light from the forge danced across the tools held fast in their holders. A cool breeze ruffled Sam’s hair as he stared into the coals. The trek back to the forge had been exhausting, and he was nearing a full twenty-four hours without sleep. Dawn was just beginning to creep around the Spire, but true daylight was still a long way off.

  Arther had been deep in preparation for almost a week, and they were about to enjoy the fruits of his labours. The old smith had nearly keeled over when Sam had brought back yet another soulstone. While they still needed to find the proper anchor and catalyst, it was theoretically possible that Sam could have two [Divine Cores] on the very first Ring.

  He glanced over at Siel, who sat on a low bench in the corner of the forge. She looked tired, but the fire in her eyes matched the one burning in the hearth. They’d accomplished what they'd set out to do and earned a good amount of spira for their efforts. They were still poor, but Sam felt marginally more confident about their ability to pay the gate toll.

  [Spira: 48,385]

  The individual mobs hadn't been worth very much, but the bosses and the quest itself had paid well. They’d encountered a few roaming bands of monsters on their trip back to the city, but they were fewer than either of them would have liked.

  Sam craned his neck and looked up at the sheer rock face towering overhead. They'd have to ascend those cliffs if they had any hope of amassing the spira they needed. His neck tingled, and he thought back to the ogre he'd fought.

  It had been the first Bronze monster he’d killed, and even on its own, it had completely overwhelmed him. He was curious how he would compare now that he'd ascended. He certainly felt stronger, but there was only one way to find out…

  He glanced back at Arther who was making the final preparations to the apparatus that he’d constructed in the middle of the forge. The large device included a series of tubes and coils, culminating in a round glass container.

  The sphere was reminiscent of the beakers that Sam had used in his labs, only it was about three times as thick. Suspended in the center, floating on a thick jet of steam, was [Hel’s Heart]. The soulstone shone ominously in the relative darkness of the forge, its sickly green glow fighting tooth and nail against the orange light of the fires.

  “We’re almost there,” Arther said of the roar of the furnace.

  Sam nodded and joined Siel in the corner. He knew there was nothing he could do, but he couldn't help feeling nervous. Arther had explained the process in great detail, but that had only further illustrated all the possible things that could go wrong.

  A shadow flitted at the corner of his vision, as a cat’s tail came into view. The Familiar had been mostly aloof and distant during their journey back, and hadn't designed to participate in combat. Siel had mentioned numerous passive benefits, including a significant boost to her natural regeneration.

  It would take time to figure out how to integrate Mai into the party, but Sam had high hopes. The sphinx was terrifying in her larger form, and if she could utilize it in battle, it would be a game-changer.

  “Sam,” Arther called, “come work the bellows. Keep a steady rhythm. Not too fast, not too slow. We need to melt the ichor at precisely the right time.”

  Sam hurried over and took over at the furnace, doing his best to emulate Arther’s cadence. He watched as the crucible above the sphere began to glow, a thick smoke pouring out of it and pooling on the ground.

  A portion of the antler had already been ground down and used to create the glass container. Sam didn't understand all the minutiae, but essentially they were trying to break open the exterior of the soulstone and trap the energy inside a more stable vessel. If they were successful, the [Divine Core] would then be able to be slotted into any [Relic] weapon.

  Sam watched with trepidation as Arther fiddled with a set of knobs and dials embedded in the side of the machine, his goggles making him look like some kind of redneck mad scientist. He’d removed his floppy hat for the occasion, but still wore his bright red cowboy boots.

  “Alright, here we go,” he said as he pulled a lever, which tilted the crucible and poured the shimmering silver liquid into the funnel beneath. The ichor passed through a series of tubes before finally being streamed into the sphere.

  Sam held his breath as the liquid began to spin, being caught up in the steam-powered centrifuge. The inside of the container looked like a cyclone of mercury, the ichor spinning around the soulstone.

  [Arcane Eyes] gave him a glimpse into what was really happening as he watched the magical blood attach itself to the tiny antler fragments embedded in the glass. The two components clearly resonated as they bonded, all the while wearing down the crystalline exterior of the soulstone.

  The temperature in the forge plummeted, and Sam winced as the glass let out an audible crack. The sudden pressure change dulled his hearing, and it was only Arther’s hand on his shoulder that made him stop pumping the bellows.

  The process had reached the point where it was operating on its own power, the glass sphere bucking and rocking in its cradle. Eerie green light slipped through the swirling grey fog, and Sam thought he could hear the distant calls of voices coming from the apparatus.

  He exchanged a look with Siel, and she gave him a small nod. She’d expressed that she held no love for the goddess of death—one who was greatly known in her culture—but she couldn't deny that they would be stupid to turn down a chance at that kind of upgrade.

  Having a Bronze weapon on the first Ring would vastly improve their odds. Arther had said that the chances of finding one organically were almost zero, so it would give them an incredible advantage if they had to fight other Warriors.

  Sam gritted his teeth as the power within the sphere continued to rise, completely obscuring the soulstone. The glass cracked again, and he raised his arm to protect his face.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The action was just in time, as the sphere shattered, sending shards of glass flying across the forge. Arther shielded Siel and Mai with his apron, the glass bouncing harmlessly off the scarred hide.

  Sam wasn't quite so lucky, as even the passive from [Iron Skin] couldn't stop the glass from drawing blood. He hissed as he pulled a few pieces from his forearm, shocked by the power of the blast.

  His heart pounded in his chest as he surveyed the wreckage of the machine, the swirling magical energies making it impossible to tell if the process had worked. His breath caught as he searched the ground for the fallen [Divine Core]. A few fleeting seconds sent his heart plummeting, as all he could see were tiny fragments of the bitter energy.

  “Hah!” Arther’s booming laugh snapped him from his concentration, and he turned to see the smith advancing toward the ruins of the machine. Instead of looking at the ground, the Warden’s eyes were chest height, fixed on the floating green gem hanging suspended off the ground.

  Sam let out a small whoop as he rushed forward to join the smith, eyes fixed on the torrent of magic gushing from the tiny object.

  While the soulstone had appeared to be a natural formation, it was clear that the [Divine Core] was anything but. The item looked more like a prism than anything else, a glass case containing a pulsing green singularity. The power was more condensed—more pure. A bone-chilling cold resonated from the object, and Sam knew that even close proximity would likely give him frostbite.

  “What now?” he asked, circling the object.

  “Get out your spear,” Arther replied. “You'll need to grab the core and push it into one of the slots. It technically doesn't matter which, but in terms of aesthetic choice, I'd start at the bottom.

  Sam nodded as he thumbed over the indents in the cold metal. He didn't have OCD, but even he could admit that starting from anything other than the bottom would likely annoy him to no end as time went on.

  “You want me to grab this thing? I'm pretty sure it will burn my skin off.”

  Arther shrugged. “A small price to pay for power.”

  Sam grunted and stepped in front of the core, steeling his nerves before reaching out both hands. He held the spear a few inches away, not wanting to handle the frigid gem any more than he had to.

  He screamed as the glass made contact with his skin, burning his hand as though it were on fire. The sensation was bizarre. It was as though his very soul was being ripped out through his palm.

  He pushed with all his might, but the core staunchly refused to move. It hung suspended in mid-air, defying all laws of physics.

  “You have to convince her, Sam.” Arther’s voice sounded distant. “Prove to her you're worthy of wielding her power.”

  Sam let out a snarl and poured mana back into the core, staunching the metaphysical bleeding. He reached for [Apostate] but stopped himself, not wanting to dull the power at the point of connection. Instead, he simply opened his Heart Chakra, letting mana pour out like a tidal wave.

  To his surprise, the core reacted immediately, the burning reducing to a dull ache as it slowly moved towards the spear. Sam gritted his teeth as it floated the last few millimetres and finally connected with the ancient black metal.

  The second the two objects touched, Sam felt a jolt of electricity surge through him. It was as though he’d connected a live circuit, as both the weapon and [Divine Core] used him as a lightning rod. The process was excruciating as the gem fused itself into the cold steel.

  A loud chime sounded in his ear, and the pain slowly dissipated. He stood there panting, unable to focus on anything beyond the spear he clung to in a death grip.

  It positively vibrated with power.

  The weapon’s aura had been potent before. Now, it sang with a low keening that could only be described as a lament for the dead.

  It reeked of danger, and Sam knew the mere sight of it would be enough to send most Iron ranked monsters running for the hills.

  “That is a terrifying weapon,” Siel whispered from the corner. Her face was a mixture of reverence and fear as she beheld the spear. Sam followed her gaze and noted that the shape of the head had changed slightly, the serrated edge becoming even more jagged, with the bottom tooth turning into more of a dedicated spike. He’d need to be careful when using it, as it could easily be caught by an enemy if he wasn't careful.

  “Well, what did you get?” Arther asked, a wide grin plastered on his face.

  “Oh! Right.” Sam inspected the weapon and read its updated description.

  [Spear of the Primordial Dawn - Bronze - Relic]

  The spear of Champions, carried by the favoured lineages of Var’Gish. Wielded by kings and commoners alike.

  Deals significant piercing and slashing damage. Increases passive channelling of [Divine Skills].

  Relic: This relic weapon may be imbued with [Divine Cores], increasing its Rank.

  Helheim's Grasp: Imbues [Decay] on every enemy struck by this weapon, creating a [Soul Link]. Enemies afflicted by [Decay] have reduced healing until they purge the effect.

  Active: If activated when striking a mortal blow, instantly execute the target enemy. If another enemy is afflicted by [Soul Link], they also receive a portion of the damage. This ability compounds.

  1 Hr Cooldown

  [Durability 951/1000]

  Sam stared at the text on his tafla for a long moment before projecting it up onto the screen in the forge.

  “Am I…reading this right?” he asked slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

  “By Vulcon’s hammer,” Arther muttered, rubbing his beard.

  “Wait, so it compounds?” Siel said, standing and walking towards the screen. “So if the attack kills the first target, it deals some of that damage to every other target. If another target dies from that damage, does it then deal it all over again?”

  “And more,” Arther nodded. “Each one who dies would only increase the potency for the rest. If used correctly, this skill could clear entire hordes of mobs.”

  Sam’s mind flashed back to the horde of simians they'd encountered in the Challenge Dungeon. If he'd been able to mark them and the taskmaster, he could theoretically have killed the boss with a single strike.

  “It's situational,” he said at last. “But if we can set it up correctly, it has the potential to clear hordes and kill bosses. [Decay] alone is incredibly powerful, but the active takes it to a whole other level.”

  “Now you understand why [Relic] weapons are so sought after,” Arther said with a grin. “And this is only at Bronze. They get exponentially more powerful the higher you go.”

  Sam shook his head and rubbed his thumb over the gem. The cold no longer bit quite as deeply, as though the essence was warming towards him.

  “Well, this only means one thing,” he said with a smile, his mind once again drifting back to the ogre who’d nearly killed him.

  “Looks like we have to test it out.”