"Grandpa Daval, I'm here!"

"Good timing, I just finished preparation; I heard you almost died from a Skeletal Warrior?"

Grandpa Daval really doesn't ease up on the topic, does he?

"I did… I couldn't see it and just mindlessly waddled into its range like an idiot. I can't leave the village now, at least until Uncle Braum eradicates them."

The world before me is much more colorful, I can see life and its beauty, but in return, I cannot see those without a soul… and this included reanimated beings like Skeletons.

Though I can see the "world's color" (a fancy way of saying elemental mana) through the souls of others, I cannot honestly know its flow.

I can see the flow through the souls like how I can see the lingering elements of the Blue Moon Flower, but that's it. When up against the dead or golems… I am as blind as a bat.

"Are you angry they're keeping you in the village, Fay?"

"No… I'm just irritated that I caused such trouble. If Skeleton Warrior had been a Skeleton Chancellor or a Skeleton Jack and Uncle Braum went to take the hit for me, he could have…"

I couldn't finish my words. The people of the village may not all be blood-related, but they are my family. If uncle Braum had died because of my blunder, his wife and future child would be left behind, and all of it would be my fault.

"What can you do? Those eyes of yours cannot see those without a soul; you should use this incident as a learning experience instead of mulling over the fact you made a mistake."

Grandpa Daval's words were as harsh as always. But that straightforwardness of his only means that he's not someone who mellows his words for the sake of making you feel good but to ensure you get the idea.

PAH!

"I'm going to do it! I'm going to live on without regrets!"

"Hey, why are you slapping yourself, Fay? Dammit, did getting scared out of your pants caused you to lose your mind? Come here, let me look at your cheeks."

Mother and the others already comforted me; that's enough feeling down for myself… you're a goddamn adult Fay, get over it and just learn from your mistake.

I can't exactly look at Grandpa Daval's eyes, but I just stared at his face with the brightest smile I could show, "Thank you, Grandpa, I needed that wake-up call."

"Look at you acting all high and might for a kid." He ruffled my hair and then let out a belly full of laughter, "You're acting mature for your again, kid. Like I told you before, don't be too hard on yourself; after all, you're still young. You can afford to make mistakes from time to time; when you learn from them, you'll be —"

"—Able to avoid them in the future."

"And here I thought you always sleep on my words other than when it comes to blacksmithing." Grandpa Daval's laughter echoed inside the room once more.

After some time, he rubbed some cold ointment on my cheeks so it won't swell. His rough and calloused hand felt reliable like always.

He's really an eccentric old man, one minute, he's acting like some grumpy old coot, and the next moment, he's so nice you wouldn't be able to recognize him. Sigh… is this what they call a tsundere?

"What are you smiling about, Fay?"

"Nothing, I'm just thinking how nice Grandpa Daval actually is."

"Bah, stop with that cheesy words of yours. You still won't be able to hammer the metal."

With that, Grandpa began the forging of the spear.

"I'm going to begin now; go to your station, so I don't have to worry about you, kid."

With a salute, I followed Grandpa Daval's words and retreated to my corner of the room, where I could see the whole place. In the past, when I first started watching him work, I accidentally got burnt and was hit by Grandpa's elbow by accident. Of course, it didn't leave any mark (or I think it didn't) but caused an uproar.

At first, he barred me from watching his work, but after much begging and using the card called throwing a tantrum, he created me my very own station, complete with a soft couch.

A smithy should be noisy once it begins, but in Grandpa Daval's place, he started with a few breathing exercises. He does this so that he focused when he beings. Even when he's just creating an ordinary knife, he does this still.

The forge suddenly came alive before my eyes. My eyes that's veiled by darkness were illuminated by the breath of life that was the fire. This is the reason why I love watching Grandpa Daval forge items. It was as though it was a part of my existence. It's a weird feeling, but that's the only way to explain this sensation.

The forge was hot but not suffocating. In a place like this, ventilation is a must.

Grandpa Daval picked the steel from the side and began heating it up.

Grandpa Daval started with the spear's socket. In this era, one cannot simply acquire steel for a low price; those who request a weapon must provide the materials. This time was not any different.

I can only see the metal getting devoured and deformed by the flames. The flames break it down, then it becomes more malleable as though it was clay.

But when heated beyond what's necessary, it would become liquid.

The heating process was complex yet straightforward; a beautiful sight to behold, and when Grandpa Daval pulled out the steel from the forge.

Seeing that it was perfectly heated up, Grandpa picked up his hammer!

BAM!

He hammered down onto the steel to spread it around. Every strike of his hammer, I could see a part of his colored silhouette assimilating with the hammer and then into the steel. Grandpa was giving it all in this most minor of things.

After that, he began beveling its edges before folding to make it easier to forge weld later. Using a mandrel, Grandpa folded it to roughly fit the needed shape.

Now, it was the time to create the spearhead. The spearhead was composed of two things, the spear's core and its edge wrap or cutting edges. Grandpa began the creation of the core.

There was plenty of steel left, but he did not use them. Instead, he used a different material – Rabid Hellhound Spine and Black Fire Ore. Of course, the Spear's Cutting Edge would be made from the fangs of an Avaldore (Lava Crocodile).

I can't see it to confirm, but I'm reasonably sure that it's that. Grandpa already briefed me on what kind of materials he would use to create this spear three weeks ago.

Rabid Hellhound Spine [Danger Lv. 45 - 70] – a material harvested from the carcass of a Hellhound an hour after its death and then preserved by having it submerged in a jar filled with a mixture of Red Slime Essence and something called the Galiva's Saliva that's similar to formalin.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Black Fire Ore – the processed feces of a Black Dagalva Salamander. It is good in conducting fire.

Avaldore (Lava Crocodile) Fangs [Danger Lv. 80 – 100] – hard and sharp enough to tear through the hard shell of Black Shell Armadillos with ease.

Back on earth, I have seen spears and weapons made of bones and the like. If this was my first time seeing this, I would believe that he's just creating a hybrid of a Viking spear and a bone spear.

But that's not that it at all. At this moment, Grandpa Daval was doing something beyond my preconceived belief.

If back on earth, there were a variation of spears base on their designs, in this world where magic existed, weapon variation was endless.

The different materials would, of course, be hard to craft into a blade for an ordinary blacksmith; the magical properties in the weapon would be hard to contain. But Grandpa Daval was no common blacksmith; his [Crafting Class] was called [World Smith], someone who could create anything using any material.

I don't really know what's Grandpa's level in his class, but, according to Mother, if he wanted to, Grandpa could work for a King and become a Nouveau Riche. It is a wonder why he's in our village.

The process was called Artifact-Refinement – this was also the first time I see one being crafted. Grandpa always said that it is dangerous for me to watch while being too young, so this was the first time I'll see him create an Artifact – a [Rare] Tier Artifact, no less.

I can hardly contain myself.

Grandpa began creating the core; he grounded the spine, crushed the Black Fire Ore, and put them into a single cylindrical container. He then covered it with ordinary clay before putting it inside the forge to bake.

"This should take two hours." He said to himself before taking the Avaldore (Lava Crodile) Fang and turning it to powder. Cutting bits and pieces of steel, he once again placed it in a cylindrical container and added what sounded to be liquid.

"What's that, Grandpa?" I asked him.

"Solution of a Hellrazer Core's pieces and its bone marrows, as well as a litter of Frost Troll's Blood for it to not explode. Hellrazer Core bone marrow is volatile, and if mixed with Herrrazer Core, it transforms into an explosive, but with the Frost Troll's blood, we avoid that ending. Put all that in a container with steel pieces and a pinch of mithril powder, and the material harmonization should be perfect."

I don't know if Grandpa Daval just believes in my capability to understand, but he just said all that to a 10-year-old like it was nothing. Well, I am not complaining. After all, I have an unnatural ability to memorize fantasy things like spells from an MMORPG.

It sucked back on Earth, but in this world, I am like a scholar!

Grandpa Daval also baked it after covering the container with clay mixed with a Yeti's bone power (I'm just as surprised as you when I learned about the Yeti). While waiting, the passage of two hours, Grandpa worked on the Spear's haft made of pure steel.

It would sound stupid to use a pure steel pole because that would make it too heavy to wield, but here it is not. A refined steel pole would be robust and would last long when used against monsters.

Grandpa also engraved on the haft's surface runes meant to reduce its weight. He stopped halfway through and planned on finishing it after he finishes creating the Spearhead.

Two hours finally passed; Grandpa Daval first pulled a mixture of Black Fire Ore and the Rabid Hellhound Spine. Grandpa broke open the cylinder, and then a bright red alloy came out; I looked at it carefully—

ROAR!

"AHH!" I jumped when the image of a hellhound pounced at me, "I-it's alive!"

"Oh, right, this is the first time I showed you how to forge a magical artifact."

"When in this state, the soul of the alloy is active, but don't worry, they'll become dormant after its heat settles down." He explained.

"Will they… disappear after being forged into a weapon?"

"Hmm? Yes and no, after all, the strongest soul in this forging will prevail. The Avaldore will survive, but the Rabid Hellhound will die after being devoured."

The forging continued as we waited for the last material to come out of the forge; he formed the core. The core would be the spine of the spearhead as it would be where the cutting edge would be wrapped.

Its shape was like that of an arrow; its tip must be perfectly pointed so that all sides would fit snugly when the edges were placed.

The base before the slanted pyramidic top was about 18 inches long, and then the sloping area extended to about one and a half inches. The spearhead was 24 inches long and its thickness four and a half.

Shaping the metal with every strike, annealing to avoid hardening, and then cutting the bits without a millimeter of error. The bright red alloy was slowly getting shaped to the desired form while being heat-treated before quenching it in oil, letting it cool down slowly to not make the spine brittle.

The tempering will come next after the cutting edge had been placed; it rested on its own for now.

While letting it cool down, Grandpa moved to create the cutting edge. He broke open the cylindrical container, and an almost blue color appeared rather than red.

"This is the effect of Frost Blood and the clay used; the crimson color of the fire is replaced by frost. It weakens the flames of the Avaldore, but in return, its effect will not be lowered when faced against frost."

"But wouldn't this weaken the user's attacking capability?" I asked. The spear was obviously crafted for a fire element user, "Will they not be held back by this weapon?"

"Not necessarily, after all – let me ask you, what will happen after the Avaldore overwhelms and devour the Rabid Hellhound's components?"

"Um…" my mind blanked.

Well, the materials are both attuned to fire, and so when the Avaldore devours the Rabid Hellhound… that's it!

"The Rabid Hellhound Spine will empower the Avaldore that lost its strength!"

"That's correct; it will devour the Hellhound for more power."

Hell yeah, I really am a Scholar in the making.

Grandpa Daval began hammering the blue alloy, stretching it out until it reached a certain length which he then cut in half.

"Fay, get the core and place it here!"

"I can help?" this never happened before.

"Yes, come on now and do it before the edge wrap cools."

"OKAY!"

Going around the forge with my kind of eyes was dangerous, but I already registered where everything was and where the item I was searching for was located. I grabbed the core and held it using a tong.

"Don't let go, else it would be a problem. I trust you can do this, Fay?"

"YES!"

Grandpa Daval shoved the still red hot edge wrap on the core. It felt as though I was being pushed back, not just from the force of Grandpa's strength but also because of Rabid Hellhound's rejection of getting devoured.

I saw it clearly, how the Rabid Hellhound awakened from its slumber by the rampaging Avaldore. The giant maw of the Avaldore clammed down on the Hellhound — a fight only she could see began.

Grandpa then took the tong from me and began hammering on it to weld the two together. Spreading ashes on its surface, hammering it down so that the wrap conforms to the shape of the core.

"You're awfully silent, Fay."

"Huh? Yes, it's just that… this sight is new to me."

"What, me hammering a spearhead? Haven't you been watching me do this since you were seven?"

"No… what I meant is the fight between the two souls."

"…Fay, what do you see as I hammer down on this spearhead?"

"Two beasts, fighting for dominance… the Hellhound doing its best to reject the existence of the Avaldore while the latter does the opposite. Every strike of the hammer, one of the other gains the upper hand."

BANG!

"The Avaldore attacked with its tail, and the Hellhound dodged."

BANG!

"The Hellhound breathed fire and successfully inflicted damage to the Avaldore."

BANG!

Every strike signified a new movement, the battlefield of the two souls continued to change. The flow of their battle continued as if it knows no end.

…I was drawn into a different world where I command the two beings… I can see their movements, every nuance of their existence.

"Why? Why is the Avaldore struggling to devour the Hellhound… is it due to the inconsistency of the strikes?" The world showed cracks… it is being destroyed… what is happening to the world?

"What do you mean?" I heard a distant voice.

"The world is crying… the balance is being destroyed, the taint spreading like the plague. The strikes that command the world must be precise."

My consciousness slowly drifted as I talked.

It can be remedied… but it will never be the same.

Hmmm? Since when have I know this?

The Avaldore must win and devour the Hellhound else the world will collapse.

"…can you tell me where I must strike?" There it is again, a voice entered my ears, a crouched figure appeared before me, he held a hammer and seeing as he waited for my command, I pointed to a gray spot.

BANG!

One of them disappeared…

In this world… I control its fate.

Over there…

BANG! BANG!

With my every command, the gray spots plaguing the world disappeared, the Avaldore quickly gained the upper hand, and then as I found the Golden Light… no, it is changing…

A Black Light? Then… that must be… it.

I pointed at the black light and uttered, "There."

BANG!

The thunderous echo of his hammer awakened me from, wait, what have I been doing? Hmm?

"Oh, you finished it, grandpa! Congratulations!"

"Fay?"

Hmm? Why is Grandpa's tone of voice like that?

"Wait, when did you finish it? Was I dozing off?"

"Fay, are you okay?"

"Huh? Why won't I… be? Huh? What's happening?"

What's going on? Did I just fall to the ground?

I… can' feel my legs…

Anxiousness

Did I get stab again?

Alarmed

Grandpa Daval? Why is the only thing glistening in the room the spearhead?

… am I going to die again? Haha

Fear

"Grandpa!? Where are you!?! ANSWER ME PLEASE!" don't leave me… please.

"ay? — FAY!" Grandpa Daval's words pierced my head.

"Gra-grandpa?"

I felt someone's touch; it was Grandpa. I held onto his clothes... I don't want to disappear into the dark…

"What's happening to me?"

I'm scared…

I felt my body being lifted as I heard him shout out loud!

"ILIA! FAY'S EYES ARE GONE!!"