Soulweaver 71: Shadow of the Fearless (Patreon)

NOTE: This is the week of july 4th, and as such there will be two soulweaver chapters and one Ashborn chapter this week. (Chapters on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday).

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Soul Crystal to Process: Obsidian Dragon Soul [Shattered]

Soul Crystal Grade: Emergence

Note: Shattered Crystals are unable to manifest sentience.

Soul Crystal Incorporation Status:

— Vigor: + 5 (90%)

— Wisdom: + 30 (60%)

— Grace: + 20 (80%)

— Cunning: + 5 (55%)

— Dominion: + 35 (90%)

“Woah…” 

And what was that about sentience!?

“Don’t stop hammering!” Rogar spat, growing irritated. 

I obliged, and hammered in the spot he guided me to. When I did, both the colors and the percentages changed.

The hell is this?

I’d never seen this aspect of my Blessing before, and like most things surrounding my powers, it didn’t come with an instruction manual.

I hammered again, but this time, I ignored Rogar and smashed the black colored overlay on the blade.

— Dominion: + 35 (97%)

Huh… Dominion’s percentage had increased, while some of the other percents went down. Not all, though.

“You hit your head, or something?” Rogar fumed. “You’re messing up the blade!”

“No, I don’t think I am,” I said. “Just watch.”

“I’ll not watch as you destroy a perfectly fine blade—”

“Rogar, it’s my weapon, and I’m paying you for this. Just trust me, alright?”

That seemed to silence him, for now.

I repeated the process for the white color, finding that the same thing happened, except this time, Wisdom increased, and a couple of others decreased.

As for what those percentages meant… My hunch was that if we finished the blade right now, we’d end up with those percentage of the stats the soul crystal was supposed to bestow. Maybe it was an artifact of shattering the crystal, or maybe it was just my inexperience, but I knew I had to maximize as many of the stats I actually wanted.

Considering the crystal only bestowed 5 Cunning, and since Cunning wasn’t even a stat I focused on, abandoning that was an easy decision. Even so, it seemed like I could really only optimize three, regardless of how I hammered—the fourth and fifth stats always suffered. It ‘d be impossible to realize them all. 

So I prioritized the three largest stat boons this crystal offered. Dominion, Grace, and Wisdom, and sacrificed Vigor and Cunning.

With each hammer strike, the colors expanded through the blade. I really didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing, and I tried to follow Rogar’s pointers whenever I could, but I increasingly deviated from his instruction. Figuring splotches of stats were bad, I tried to smooth them out and get each stat’s color to run the length of the blade.

Easier said than done, and it took many cycles of heating and hammering to make it happen. Eventually, when I was satisfied with the distribution, I handed the hammer off to Rogar, who handled the finishing touches—pounding out the bulges and imperfections. That was the sort of work that would have been impossible for my amateur skills, even assisted by the System as I was.

Rogar, for his part, stopped criticizing me when he saw that what I was doing actually produced results. At least, I assumed that was why he stopped berating me, and finished hammering out the newly-forged ingot without another word.

The greatsword was now just a rectangular blank, shorter and thicker than the original weapon had been. Its Condition had dropped to a third of normal.

“So?” Rogar asked. “What kind of weapon do you want this to be? We can reforge it back to a greatsword like it was, or we can build out a shorter blade. Your decision, but be quick about it. We have to act while the metal is hot.”

“Longsword,” I said without hesitation. “That’ll serve me better.” 

The greatsword, while it had felt nimble in my hands, was just too big to use in the tight confines I was likely to find in Cataclysm Dungeons and Trials. Besides, all of my training with Philip had been on longswords and polearms. That was already two different weapons I had to master—I didn’t want to add a third until I had these two down pat.

“As you wish. Tell me about how you want it to handle. And what you’ll use it for.”

“Cataclysm monsters,” I said. “Lots of them. And I want something powerful. I want it weighted to do damage. Don’t worry about its handling characteristics.”

With my boosted Dominion, I didn’t need to worry as much about such things. I just wanted the deadliest sword Rogar could fashion.

“Odd choice, but it’s your money,” Rogar said. “I’ll handle the rest. Go work the bellows so the forge is hot when I need it.”

“You got it,” I said, turning to head to the forge nearby. “And, thanks, Rogar. I appreciate this.”

The blacksmith grunted, and I could swear I saw the faintest hint of a smile somewhere inside that bushy beard of his. “No need, Grug. If this blade’s even half as good as what I’m hoping, we’ll have something truly special on our hands. Can you even imagine how much fame this’ll bring me?”

The man was practically cackling, and honestly? I couldn’t blame him. With the stone, this was going to be one hell of a blade.

— — 

The process took another eight solid hours of work, with most of it being spent on the grinding and polishing, which I couldn’t help Rogar at all with. Instead, I mass produced cheap swords while he worked. Felt like the least I could do when Rogar was slaving away at the forge. I never knew anyone could sweat that much without shriveling up into a desiccated husk.

It was like he was possessed—he was so absorbed in his work that he stopped replying whenever I called out to him asking if he was alright, or if I could go get him some water. His entire being was consumed with remaking my sword, and I had no intention of breaking that awesome concentration.

I did keep a close eye on [Light of the Fearless]’ condition, though. It continued to decline, and when it hit 10%, I started to grow worried. When it touched 5%, I began to panic.

But then, the downward march stopped, and the numbers began to slowly tick back up again.

It hit 95% by the time Rogar had finished profiling the sword’s two edges on his grinding wheel, and finally hit 100% when he’d finished the polishing process.

The instant it did, I got a popup, and its description changed. 

Through your efforts, Obsidian Dragonfire has evolved into [Shadow of the Fearless].

Light of the Fearless [Rare]

Thanks to the hard work of your boss, this ancient weapon has a new life. It’s pretty special. Make sure you treasure it.

Essence Cost: 42

Condition: 800/800

Stats:

— Vigor: + 1

— Wisdom: + 28

— Grace: + 17

— Dominion: + 34

Abilities:

— Light of the Fearless [Foundation - 0]: Caution! Object may be hot! Imbues the blade with white fire. Also might be the name of a sweet album, but don’t quote me on that.

— Shadow of the Fearless [Foundation - 0]: Caution! Object may be ice cold! Imbues the blade with black fire that freezes anything it touches. 

I gawked. I hadn’t even seen the blade yet—Rogar was still reassembling it—but this was absolutely incredible. No weapon I’d ever come across bestowed stats. Given the soul stone’s stats, I’d at least been expecting that, and the percentages gave me a hint as to how many I’d end up with.

The ability evolving, though? That I did not expect. I could only assume this one was better than the vanilla version… And I absolutely could not wait to test it.

The minutes it took Rogar to finish assembling the blade and deliver it to me were agony. I paced around, unable to concentrate on forging. I bit my fingernails. I even started tugging at my hair.

Luckily, the wait was mercifully short, and Rogar presented the cloth-wrapped blade to me with both hands, looking off, somehow. 

It wasn’t just my imagination. He carried it almost… reverently.

“I’m not one to throw out praise. Least of all for my own work. But This… I won’t lie to you, Grug. This might very well be the finest blade I’ve ever crafted,” he said, slowly extending the sword to me.

I took it and immediately unwrapped the cloth.

The blade under it was unlike anything I’d seen. It had the same pattern as Aerion’s shortsword—the one you got from folding two different types of steel over. Except one side was pitch black, and the other was a gorgeous mirror finish. And separating them was a thin line of silver.

“It’s… beautiful,” I said, taking a few practice swings. It was definitely top heavy—probably thanks to the small pommel—but it still felt really good in my hands. It felt powerful. I couldn’t wait to give this an actual test in the field.

Taking a few practice swings, its top-heavy nature definitely made itself known. But that wasn’t what made this blade special. 

“Well?” Rogar said excitedly. “What are ya waiting for? Go on. Activate it!”

I did, and a coating of black flame ignited, wreathing the length of the blade. I knew the moment it lit that I’d be burned if I touched that. Not because it was hot, but because it was unbelievably cold. 

I could even feel the cold, nipping at my face.

“Astonishing,” Rogar said, nearing as close as he dared. “Black flames that burn cold? Never in my life have I heard of anything like it.”

Suddenly, the astonishment disappeared from Rogar’s face, and he scowled at me. “I made this blade. Without me, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“Uh, sure?” Though it wasn’t quite as one-sided as he was making it out to be, he was indispensable. “So?”

I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going.

“So I’ll be registering it with the guild as one of mine. I’ll be wanting to show it around, too. Can you even imagine what this will do for me? I’ll have customers throwing themselves at my feet to have a blade made! I havta recoup my losses, with you being gone and all, so I’ll not take no for an answer!”

The man’s face was practically red by now.

“Fine by me.” I said, letting out a breath. If that was all he wanted, I’d be happy to oblige. “Just… I’ll be needing the blade for training, and I’m obviously taking it once I leave for the dungeon. But until then, I’m sure we can work out a schedule that makes sense for both of us.”

“Right then. Good. Good,” Rogar said, backing off. He probably thought he’d be in for a fight.

“Also, that’s not all,” I said, as nonchalantly as possible. “Looks like it has another power, too.”

I considered not telling Rogar about the white flames of [Light of the Fearless], but it felt wrong to lie to the man who’d reforged the weapon. 

“Another?” Rogar gasped. “You better not be shitting me, Grug.”

“I’m not,” I said with a small grin. “Just watch.”

To be honest, I had no clue what would happen when I lit both abilities at the same time. [Light of the Fearless] burned hot, while [Shadow of the Fearless] burned cold. Would they just cancel each other out? Would it cause a chemical reaction and explode?

Turned out, it was neither.

[Light of the Fearless] ignited as normal. Except, it only lit half the blade. The left half. The right half was still covered in black fire, which burned just as cold as it had been just moments ago.

“Wild…” I muttered in awe. White flames dancing next to black flames. It was hard to say whether the effect was functional, or if it was just for show… But something told me these two abilities made the weapon greater than the sum of its parts.

The abilities ended, and the flames winked out. I looked around and didn’t find Rogar.

Then I looked down. Rogar, master smith, had fallen on his ass.