Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin hoisted one of the Ivorin sabatons he’d been working on for the past few hours to examine it in the light of the [Soul Flame] licking from the Infernal Armory’s hearth. The boot was plain but functional, with joints to allow movement at the ankle and plating along the top of the foot. There were two clear gemstones embedded within the boot on either side of the ankle. A spike extended from the very end of the toe, long enough to make sure his kicks delivered an extra punch — or took revenge on anything he stubbed his toe on.

The second boot sat beside the hearth. It was a more polished version of the one in his hand, adorned with plain but well-done carvings. Layers of power and intent had been worked into it and the Mesh sat in wait, sensing a finished item and held back only by its connection to the boot that Arwin was still finishing.

He’d considered making each of the items separately, similar to how he’d made his gauntlets, but Arwin had opted to dismiss that particular idea. It was easy to do one thing with one hand and another thing with the second. That was less true when things came to legs. He didn’t want one foot to go around shooting out magic while the other drew it in. Not unless he didn’t like the idea of balance.

Arwin worked the final designs into the surface of the sabaton in motions that had long since become practiced. If it hadn’t been for the Mesh showing him what to do, it would have been impossible to get to this point in the relatively short amount of time that had passed between now and the explosion.

It felt like an eternity, but it was measurable in weeks rather than years. He’d just managed to accomplish more that he was proud of in recent times than he could in just about all of his memories as a hero.

Arwin was almost starting to feel like a real smith — or at least, whatever a smith that used magic for seventy percent of their work could be called.

He finalized the boot and the Mesh buzzed with increased intensity in his ears. It didn’t want to wait any longer, and it wasn’t going to have to. Arwin released his mental barrier, and magic exploded forth like a raging river bursting through a cracked dam.

Arwin watched on as emotion swirled in his chest. These were the final piece from the Ivory Executioner set. Perhaps it was odd to feel emotional about finishing a suit of armor. Out of everything he’d worked on, this was the one that had been waiting the longest to be finished.

There had been so many things he’d had to do. Life had been busy — but now that he watched the Mesh rushing into the boots and igniting the life that he’d forged into them, he knew that a lack of time wasn’t the reason he hadn’t finished the set.

But leaving it half-finished would have been even worse. And now, for better or for worse, it was done.

Arwin drew in a deep breath, and for an instant, he could have sworn he smelled wood and ash. He smelled the oil and sweat of a smithy, one that had stood here before he’d rebuilt the Infernal Armory.

It was, surprisingly, not so bad of a smell. Distant but pleasant, an acknowledgement of what had passed rather than a painful unearthing. And then it was gone. The scent of a morning after a heavy rain replaced it.

Droplets of golden energy glistened across the boots’ surface as the Mesh swelled, sending power pouring not just into the new pieces, but also into the equipment within [Arsenal].

Arwin stiffened in surprise as his armor suddenly snapped into place around him. He hadn’t summoned it. The Ivory Executioner Set had arrived of its own volition. His eyes went wide as the amount of magic passing through the armor grew even more insistent.

What kind of set is this? This power is incredible!

The Mesh continued its advance. It poured and poured, filling the entire set with more power than Arwin could have imagined. Golden letters exploded through the air before him, but the flow of strength didn’t recede. It continued to pour out, a river of magic that almost seemed like it could not be stopped.

[Ivory Executioner’s Sabatons: Epic Quality] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy.

But the Mesh wasn’t done. Not in pouring magic into the Ivory Executioner Set, and not in sending messages. More letters burst forth like a star had exploded in the air before him.

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[The Ivory Executioner] – Awarded for — finally — finishing the Ivory Executioner Set. Is it a Curse? Is it a Blessing? That remains to be seen. Effects: One skill in your next Skill Selection has been upgraded to [Cursed]. This achievement will be consumed upon choosing your next skill.

Arwin blinked the notification away. He wasn’t sure why finishing the Ivory Executioner Set had gotten him a Cursed skill upgrade. That was definitely odd. None of the items within it were cursed.

For that matter, he wasn’t so sure he understand why half the things that the Mesh called ‘Cursed’ actually bore that name. Cursed implied that the items were somehow evil or otherwise negative, but from what he’d seen so far, that wasn’t true.

Cursed items were just harder to control and had greater risks and rewards. Calling them Cursed almost felt like a misnomer — but now wasn’t exactly the time to argue that fact with the Mesh.

Arwin squinted through the light. Somehow, there was still magic entering the set… and something was wrong. He could feel it heating up on his back. Every piece of the armor started to tremble as tiny crackles of golden lightning leapt off their surface and scorched the ground at his feet.

The red mist that marked the Infernal Armory’s presence pulled back. It had been silent ever since he’d finished working, but it was wisely uncomfortable in the presence of the growing magical energy pouring off of Arwin.

His entire body started to shake as the armor trembled violently. Waves of golden power synchronized and roiled off the set. They washed up the walls, waves striking stone, and dissipated into the air with crackling pops.

“What is this?” Arwin asked, his teeth clattering from the force of the magic welling in the room. He couldn’t tell if his question had been meant for himself or the Mesh.

The power was starting to become stifling. It bore down on his chest and squeezed his heart like it was trying to strangle him. Arwin had absolutely no idea what was happening, but the forceful magic was quickly progressing from uncomfortable to painful.

And when something was powerful enough to hurt him even through [Indomitable Bulwark], it was time to act.

Arwin pulled his helmet off, and the gauntlets followed shortly afterward. He undid the chestpiece and removed the greaves. With every passing second, the magic in the room grew stronger. It buffeted his face with such intensity that it blew his cheeks back like he was staring into a hurricane. The smell of fresh rain and earth was so strong in the room that it threatened to drive a spike into his head.

He finished pulling everything off took a step back from the pile of equipment, holding a hand up to try and get a look at what was happening.

And, in that moment, the flow of magic slammed to a halt like it had been frozen in ice. The world went still. It was as if the Mesh had drawn in a deep breath and held it in anticipation, a conductor whose hands were raised into the air in a striking pose before the finale.

The moment evaporated.

Golden light exploded forth with a brilliant crack like a thousand bolts of thunder all striking as one. Arwin stumbled. The wall slammed into his back and the breath was driven from his lungs.

Every piece of the Ivory Executioner Armor lifted into the air. Twisting tendrils of gold magic ran between them as they arranged themselves, floating together onto an invisible form. Then, one by one, they snapped into place. Flashes of gold magic welded them together.

Arwin was left staring in abject disbelief. He could do nothing but watch in awe as the beautiful light faded away, leaving him staring at what could have been the armored clone of himself.

Every single piece of the armor was locked in place. It had been made into a statue. Faint lines of gold pulsed beneath the armor’s seams, but they didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Arwin reached out toward it with [Arsenal], but something blocked his magic.

Power entered his body. It infused his muscles and filled his heart, reinforcing it. It was a familiar sensation, though not one he’d felt as often as he once had. The Mesh confirmed it an instant later.

Your Tier has raised by 1 rank.

And an instant later, as if giving Arwin a friendly slap on the back as it left the room, the Mesh manifested one last message for him.

[The Ivory Executioner] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy.

The Ivory Executioner: Epic Quality

[The Guardian]: This item is infused with an immense desire to protect the Infernal Armory and all those who its owner calls friend. Forged in flames that no forge could ever create, this item has a soul of its own.

[Incomplete]: The Guardian is not yet finished. It requires a core to activate.

It possesses [1] concealed property.

Arwin stared in awe for several long seconds. Then he blinked heavily, trying to make sense of the scene before him. But blinking did nothing. There was no denying it. A laugh bubbled up from his chest. He couldn’t help it.

All Arwin could do was stand and laugh, even when the doors to the armory flew open and the rest of the Menagerie poured in, likely having sensed the immense amount of magic that had been pouring out of the building.

And even they could do nothing but join Arwin at staring at the statue before him.

The Ivory Executioner Set wasn’t armor at all.

It was the body for [Soul Guardian].

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