"A smithing trial?" Damon raised a brow. Of all the possibilities, he had not expected sothing like this. An enormous anvil stood in the center, ringed by braziers that burned with hellfire. A tray slid out, revealing raw ore that glowed.
Damon had no idea what that ore was. He tried to inspect it but ca up empty-handed. As he approached the anvil to take a closer look, another system notification chid in front of him.
[Ding! Temper the ore with your life, shape it under the right heat, and survive the test.]
Before Damon could even react, the small sprite quickly darted forward and gobbled up all the hellfire essence in the braziers.
Damon smiled bitterly. It looked like the first test was easy enough, but not for him. He was not really talented when it ca to smithing. He had tried it a couple of tis. That’s all. Both tis, he had forged absolute pieces of shit. The NPC in the forge specifically made sure to tell him that.
And now he was in a legacy related to smithing? After so much struggle? Life was a bitch sotis. This was definitely a lost cause. It was a sha that he was going to fail again, even after removing the curse and not losing the chance to step inside this trial, but it did not matter.
At least now he knew. He had already tried his best, and there was nothing he could do about his terrible luck. Still, he couldn’t really leave without giving it at least one shot. He walked over and set the ore on the anvil. Goldy buzzed around curiously.
Though Damon had not dabbled a lot in blacksmithing, he knew the fundantals about it thanks to observing many smithing videos in his last life and also from the raw knowledge he had gotten when he stole the skill and made it his own.
He lifted the hamr near the anvil with ease and then started banging on the ore. "Goldy, can you handle the heating part? Make sure that the ore is neither too hot nor too cold. Can you do it?"
Honestly, he knew everything was going to shit the mont he brought down that hamr. Fuck it. He did not care. He was about to bring the hamr down when he suddenly had an idea. Could he just pocket the ore and get out of here?
It looked like it was precious raw material, and the many, many talented blacksmith friends he had would be pleased to use sothing like this. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be a complete waste after all.
Damon shrugged and then swiftly placed the ore in his spatial ring. He then tried even pocketing the anvil when a gruff voice sounded behind him. "Just how did you manage to co so far?"
Damon instantly blinked away in response. He turned to see a ghost staring at him with clear amusent in his eyes, and wait, he had fangs? This was a vampire ghost!
All sorts of theories popped up in Damon’s mind, and he prepared to defend himself when the guy chuckled and shook his head. "You don’t have to be so paranoid. I am only a guide to the legacy. I am incapable of harming anyone."
Damon let out a sigh of relief. Even though he did not want to completely trust the words of this stranger, everything seed to add up, and there was no reason for the guy to lie to him.
The ghost floated by the anvil, pale fangs flashing in a grin. "You can’t pocket that," the ghost said. "Don’t bother trying. You can only take the ore with you. But why co all this way if all you want is that piece of junk? The proportions are all wrong in the ore mixture. You can’t really use it for anything. I specifically set it up like this because this test is designed to see how you will manage the heat required for the ore."
"I see. Thank you for your advice, senior." Damon politely thanked him. He still did not take out the ore, though, and simply looked around.
"You naive fool. I am not deceiving you. I am really only trying to help you. Mostly out of boredom. Do you know how many years it has been since soone ca all this way and made it so far into my trial?"
Ughhh. Damon shook his head.
"Millions of years. The great clans have gone to shit and now the acolytes are all as dumb as bats! If I had known this, I would have made my legacy easier at least!" The ghost sighed in exasperation. "What is your problem exactly? Why are you still standing there like a fool? Get in front of the anvil and give it a try."
Damon could only bitterly smile again. He had never done this before. How was he supposed to do it now?
"Maybe you can guide a little bit more senior?" He shalessly asked.
The ghost looked confused. "What is there to guide in this? Just put the lump of tal on the anvil, heat it with your magic, and bring your hamr down on it. If you do not have a worth hamr, you can use this one." A hamr magically appeared next to the anvil.
"Can I take this hamr at least?" Damon asked.
The old man’s face twitched. "No, it is bound."
Damon nodded and walked over to stand in front of the anvil. It was not that he wanted to act like a fool in front of his guide ghost, but the thing was, even if he acted all high and mighty, the very first swing of his hamr would betray everything about him. It would publicly display his blacksmithing experience for everyone to see.
Well whatever. Damon sucked in a big breath of air and looked at the sprite next to him. "Goldy, co on. I am counting on you." He then picked up the hamr and first rolled it around in his palm to get a sense of it.
The weapon was neither too heavy nor too light. Seed perfect for him. The old man nodded in approval, looking at him with renewed interest. Damon inwardly shook his head and wryly chuckled. Here goes nothing.
***
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