Chapter 22: The Flames of Awakening
Tyler's heart raced as the thought crossed his mind:
If the power of just one serpent scale could boost my strength so much… what if the power of thousands, even tens of thousands, of serpent scales were awakened? If he could awaken them all, how unimaginably strong would he become?
Nervously, Tyler wet his lips, forcing himself to quell such wild dreams. All that power was still far beyond his reach.
He keenly realized the difficulty—awakening even a single scale of the divine serpent was no small feat.
According to Aghora, the Hellblade itself was a supreme Mortal weapon and a priceless artifact.
Even so, it had only managed to awaken the first serpent scale. Tyler wondered just how much metal and how many supreme weapons would be needed to awaken thousands more. Even if the treasures of the entire northern region were melted down, truly awakening all the serpent scales might prove impossible!
Silently, Tyler concluded that every step needed careful thought—no stupid, reckless moves.
With these thoughts swirling, Tyler settled cross-legged in the blazing cauldron. The golden vortices on his skin greedily drew in the flames—his soul now stronger than ever, the inferno only reinforcing his flesh.
Outside the cauldron, Aghora peered in with growing suspicion. Something wasn't right. He couldn't sense the Hellblade's presence at all. Never having crafted a Spiritual Weapon before, he wondered: Had his sword actually been transformed?
At the same time, Aghora noted the fire inside the cauldron was receding. Intrigued, he wondered what exactly was going on in there.
Maybe… he really did forge a Spiritual Weapon!
Every blacksmith knew that when a weapon reached its final forging, it began absorbing fire in huge amounts. The greater the weapon's tier, the more fire it consumed.
He recalled when he'd made the Hellblade, it had taken two whole hours at the final stage, absorbing fire endlessly before completion.
But this—this had lasted three hours already.
Smithing legends said: the higher the grade, the greater the flames needed, the longer the time. Aghora could hardly contain his excitement. It's just as I thought! Only a Spiritual Weapon could devour this much flame at the end!
Without hesitation, Aghora channeled more fire into the cauldron.
But no matter how much fuel he added, the cauldron acted like a bottomless abyss—devouring everything, as if it were a hungry demon.
Six hours passed. Sweat dripped from every pore on Aghora's exhausted, panting form.
Still, anxiety gnawed at him. Had he done enough? One misstep during the final phase, and the weapon might be ruined after all!
Yet, however impatient, Aghora could only grit his teeth and keep the fire flowing.
Nearly twenty hours later.
With a final trembling surge, all the fire left in his body spent, Aghora collapsed to the ground, gasping. Slowly, he fished out several red pills and swallowed them, feeling strength returning little by little.
But even after all this, Aghora still wasn't sure of his success. Standing before the cauldron, his face was a mask of doubt.
At last, after deliberation, he yanked the cauldron door open. He felt nothing, only a strange suspense. But as the lid swung wide, he suddenly saw a golden fist rocketing toward his face.
Aghora was already a half-Champion, and his instincts reacted instantly. He leapt backward, barely dodging Tyler's punch.
But Tyler was fast—his fist still clipped Aghora.
Though Aghora had avoided most of the attack, the impact still made his face flare red, veins bulging on his forehead. Blood dripped from his mouth. Wiping it away, he hissed, "You… you're still alive!"
"That's right. I'm still not dead." Tyler said, breathing hard, outwardly calm but inwardly battling rising fear.
Tyler had only just awakened his third Core, but he could now withstand nearly 1,200 kilograms of force. On top of that, with the power of the serpent scale, his strength could be tripled. Tyler had put everything into that ambush punch, hoping to end it in a single blow.
He hadn't expected Aghora to react so quickly. The old blacksmith had almost entirely evaded the hit.
But Aghora was even more startled.
This boy has only awakened his Solar Core, yet my strength is far greater. It should be easy to kill him! And yet, after coming out of the cauldron, his power seems... magnified. Did his time inside somehow strengthen him? What is happening?
If Aghora had been a step slower, he could have been killed outright—a humiliation he couldn't allow.
But it wouldn't happen again.
"Where is my Hellblade?" Aghora snapped. Despite all else, his greatest anxiety was for his cherished sword.
Tyler just shrugged, arms wide, a sly grin spreading on his face. "You really don't get it? Obviously, I ate it."
"You ate it? Stop lying!" Aghora roared, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
The Hellblade was a supreme Mortal weapon—how could anyone eat it, let alone a human? Even a normal sword would slice a man to bits, let alone such a treasure! Aghora stared in horror at Tyler's naked, weaponless body, then at the now-empty cauldron.
There was nowhere left for the weapon to be.
Reality forced the truth on him, yet Aghora still couldn't accept it.
He screamed, "Where is my Hellblade? Tell me now—or I'll kill you!"
What happens next? Can Tyler survive the wrath of a mad blacksmith, or is this the end? Find out in the next chapters…
[A.N: This chapter is some what short and some upcoming chapter will or may be short. Hope you are enjoying story.]