Chapter 7: First Steps

  The rhythmic cnging of metal against metal filled the air, a steady beat of determination and progress. The forge was alive with the hiss of burning coals, the glow of molten metal illuminating the sweat-soaked faces of those working tirelessly. Sparks flew as Cire struck the heated steel with precise, measured force, shaping it with each powerful blow. The scent of scorched iron mixed with the thick, smoky air, creating an atmosphere that was both suffocating and invigorating.

  And here I was, standing at the anvil, my hands wrapped tightly around a heavy hammer, trying to follow her lead.

  It had been five days since I had started learning bcksmithing under Cire’s guidance. Five days of burned hands, aching muscles, and relentless corrections. My body screamed in protest with every swing, but I pushed through.

  I could tell I was learning unnaturally fast but it was harsh yet, for the first time since awakening my ability, I felt like I was on the brink of something.

  Cire had been brutal but fair. No wasted movement. No unnecessary flourishes. Every strike had a purpose. Every mistake was punished with more work. And despite the exhausting process, I found myself drawn to the craft in a way I hadn’t expected.

  “You’re gripping it too hard,” Cire muttered without even looking up, her own hammer coming down with a cng that sent a fresh burst of sparks into the air. “If your fingers lock up, you’ll lose control. Let the hammer’s weight do half the work.”

  I exhaled through gritted teeth and adjusted my grip. The steel bar before me was glowing a deep orange, heat radiating off it in waves. I raised my hammer and struck, aiming to ftten the imperfections. The vibration jolted through my arms, but the strike nded solidly. Better than before.

  “Not bad,” she admitted begrudgingly. “But you’re still too slow. If this were a battle, you’d be dead.”

  I snorted. “Good thing I don’t pn on forging swords mid-fight, then.”

  Cire rolled her eyes but smirked. “Still, you’re picking this up faster than I expected.”

  She was right. The process of forging was beginning to feel... natural. More than just an acquired skill. It was as if my ability,Creation, was guiding me, helping me understand the flow of metal, the bance of heat and force. It was probably much different from Cir ability but I could feel it. I hadn’t fully grasped its potential yet, but with every piece I shaped, I could feel something unlocking within me.

  Then, it happened.

  As I lifted my hammer for another strike, I felt a strange pull, a sensation deep within my core. Instinct took over. Instead of bringing the hammer down, I focused, letting my ability guide me. The glow of the forge dimmed slightly, and the steel beneath me shifted, not from the force of my hammer, but from something deeper, something intangible.

  I saw it before I understood it. The metal, once rigid and unyielding, seemed to melt at the edges, shifting into the shape I had envisioned before I had even struck it.

  Cire’s hammer stopped mid-air.

  “What the hell was that?” she asked, her voice ced with suspicion and curiosity.

  I blinked. The piece of metal on the anvil was no longer the rough, half-formed bde I had been shaping. It was refined, almost unnaturally smooth.

  “I… I don’t know,” I admitted. But deep down, I did.

  Cire stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “You really don’t do anything normally, do you?”

  I shook my head, still trying to process what had happened. “Guess not.”

  She studied the piece of metal again before nodding to herself. “Alright. You should be able to make a small weapon even if barely now.”

  I had tried forging weapons before. Small attempts, crude and unfinished. But never had I crafted something I could confidently pce in someone’s hands, a weapon worthy of battle, worthy of survival.

  But now… now it was different.

  The realization burned through me like molten steel. If I could manipute the material, tweak its very composition with my ability, then maybe, just maybe, I could forge something real. Something worthy.

  I grabbed a fresh piece of raw iron and pced it into the roaring forge, watching as the heat licked hungrily at the metal. The fmes danced, their reflections swirling in my eyes as I focused, not just on shaping the dagger, but on infusing it with something more.

  I reached out with my ability. It was subtle at first, a gentle hum beneath my skin. But as I concentrated, I felt the metal shift, not melting, not bending, but changing on a fundamental level, like I was creating something new alltogether.

  A deep golden glow pulsed from within the ore, different from the fiery orange of heated material. The impurities in the metal burned away, dissolving as though the material itself obeyed my will. The composition refined itself, becoming something purer and stronger.

  Cire had stopped working. I could feel her eyes on me, her breath held in quiet disbelief. But I had no time to acknowledge her. My focus was absolute.

  With tongs, I pulled the glowing metal from the forge, pcing it onto the anvil. The energy coursing through it resonated in my bones. This wasn’t just forging anymore.

  It was creation.

  I raised my hammer and brought it down.

  CLANG.

  The sound rang through the forge like a bell of war. The impact sent sparks cascading through the air, the raw power of my ability syncing with the physical force of the hammer’s strike and the phoenix heat. Each hit shaped the bde, not just with brute strength, but with precision. The dagger wasn’t forming only through trial and error, it was becoming exactly what it was meant to be.

  The more I struck, the more my ability pulsed through me, guiding each motion. The shape refined itself, an elegant yet deadly curve, the perfect bance of weight and sharpness. I felt its potential, its... Hunger for purpose.

  I quenched the bde in oil, steam hissing as the metal locked into its final form. My heart pounded as I lifted it, inspecting its edge under the dim glow of the forge.

  The dagger was beautiful.

  It wasn’t just a piece of materials. It now had a real prupose, it made its presence known to the world. The edges gleamed unnaturally, the metal imbued with something different then normal craftsmanship. A weapon crafted not just by skill, but by will.

  Cire let out a slow exhale. “That… That’s not forging.”

  I turned to her, gripping the weapon tightly, feeling its bance in my palm. “No,” I admitted, a slow grin forming. “It’s creation.”

  With this, I felt like I was finally starting to understand what creation was.

  Still, the idea that I had learned to craft a functional weapon in just five days was wild.

  Of course, that wasn’t the only thing I had done during that time. Hunting for my own materials had become a necessity, so Lay and I had joined several other fighters on daily expeditions. It was exhausting, but rewarding. My level had climbed to 11, while Lay had reached 14. It might not seem like much, but after level 10, the experience needed to advance became exponentially harder to gain.

  But I hadn’t just improved my ability to fight. I had started to build.

  Using what I had learned through forging, I had applied my growing knowledge to reinforcing and upgrading the defenses around campus. The walls weren’t perfect yet, I hadn’t had time to strengthen every weak point, but I could confidently say that no monster under level 15 would be able to breach the areas I had reinforced with many materials.

  And that… that meant something.

  I still didn’t fully understand the extent of my ability, but one thing was becoming clear, Creation wasn’t just about crafting weapons. It was about shaping the world around me.

  Cire crossed her arms, inspecting the dagger I had just finished. She turned it over in her hands, running a finger along the bde’s edge.

  “Congratutions, Elian. In just five days, you’ve learned enough to forge a functional weapon. That’s amazing.”

  I grinned, feeling a swell of pride in my chest. But then…

  “Of course,” she continued, leveling me with a critical stare, “you still have a long way to go. The edge needs refining, the handle could use better weight distribution… but overall?” She exhaled, giving a small smile. “I’m impressed.”

  [Ding]

  [The proficiency of Creation has increased.]

  [Creation I: 51%]

  I exhaled slowly, gncing at my status. My ability was evolving, little by little, every moment I spent learning was reflected in its progression.

  “This is thanks to you, Cire,” I said, giving her an appreciative nod.

  She scoffed, turning her head away. “Bah, with your talent, anyone could’ve taught you. You would’ve reached this point no matter what.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe. But you were the one who showed me the way. And I’m grateful for that.”

  She didn’t respond immediately, but I caught the faintest blush creeping onto her cheeks before she turned away.

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “I’ve got more work to do. Go away.”

  I chuckled. As friendly as ever.

  But more importantly, my status.

  [Status]

  Name: Elian

  Level: 11

  Titles: [Divine Mortal]

  Domain: Creation

  Achievements: [First Step in Creation] [The Phoenix’s First Step] [Giant Syer]

  Attributes:

  Energy: 130/130

  Agility: 14

  Strength: 14

  Endurance: 12

  Intelligence: 26

  Creativity: 30

  Luck: 10

  [Free Points: 25]

  Ability: [Creation I]: 51%

  Sub Ability: [Phoenix I]: 75%

  Divinity:

  Divine Essence: 5

  Faith Points: 0

  [Mission]

  Details Unlocked at Higher Levels

  [Status end]

  My mastery over Creation was progressing rapidly ever since I began learning form Cire. The more I worked with it, the more I felt myself understanding its potential. But as I stared at my status, a question had been gnawing at me for some time now.

  What is Creation, truly?

  Was it simply the ability to shape materials? Or was it something deeper?

  To create something new in this world…

  Could I only work with existing matter? Or could Creation truly allow me to craft something from nothing?

  The thought sent a chill through me.

  I closed my eyes, focusing inward. An experiment.

  I imagined a gun, a simple design, something I had seen before. I concentrated, trying to bring it into existence… but nothing happened.

  I felt the faintest twinge of my ability responding, but it wasn’t enough.

  I’m going at this the wrong way.

  Creation wasn’t about simply willing something into existence. It was understanding every piece of it. The material. The angles. The composition. The purpose.

  If I couldn’t simply create from nothing, what if I worked with what I already knew?

  I shifted my focus. Instead of trying to materialize something entirely new, I thought of something familiar, the dagger I had just forged.

  I pictured every step in my mind. The heat of the fire. The weight of the hammer. The impact of each precise strike.

  My energy moved.

  I felt the pull of my ability, this time, stronger. My body remembered the motions, the intent. And as I concentrated, I felt something form in my hand.

  My eyes snapped open.

  A dagger, identical to the one I had forged, sat in my palm.

  My breath caught.

  I had done it. I had truly created something.

  A slow grin spread across my face.

  I finally understood.

  Creation wasn’t about summoning something from nothing, it was about manifesting what I had already forged and created within myself.

  But there was still work to do.

  It had taken me five whole minutes to form this dagger. That was too slow.

  And worse, I could feel my energy tied to it. The bde wasn’t permanent. It would fade if I didn’t maintain it.

  Still…

  This was my first true step toward unlocking my chosen path over the real power of my ability.

  I couldn’t stop the ughter bubbling up in my chest.

  I had done it.

  But now?

  Now, I needed to master it.