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“So… I guess you are all wondering why a place like this—a place once filled with life now looks like a forgotten tomb.”

“Hm, no. Not really.”

“Well… it started with a rumor.”

“Welp, okay then. Chat, I guess we’re going to get some backstory.”

“Hm…” The forge’s flames barely illuminated the old halls of the guild, flickering like ghosts dancing in the darkness.

Truly, to call it old and abandoned would be an understatement—some of the dust even seemed like it had already settled on the walls and the floor.

And perhaps in a wave of irony, the only one that felt alive here was the one that looked like he could already be a corpse—the old man.

“It started with a rumor…” The old man repeated his words in a whisper as he looked around his tomb, “...But before that, I want to tell you that this place was once the pride of Calydion. We had master blacksmiths from every corner of the land. We have even been visited by the Eldazens.”

“Hm…” Julian hummed quietly as he listened to the old man. Cyrus and Juliet, however, only sighed as they knew this was going to be a long story.

“This place, my guild…” The old man, the guild master, stood up and started walking. Julian instinctively tried to help him, but the old guild master refused. His steps were weak, but each one still held a sort of dignity and pride that you wouldn’t expect coming from someone so emaciated.

His hands soon moved slowly over workbenches, gathering all the dust between his fingers as he spoke, “...My guild used to be so filled with life.”

“I remember.” Juliet whispered as she looked around the shadows of the smithy, her eyes seemingly reflecting the light and energy it once had.

“And all of that disappeared because of a rumor.” The guild master finally returned to the start of his story; his weak and trembling eyes, glancing at the trio,

“Word spread of an enchanted forge—one said to hold a flame spirit. And so, the guild pooled our entire budget to bring it here, no matter the cost. We thought that maybe, maybe if we managed to tame this flame… others will start thinking that we are the best too.”

He paused, looking at the blue flame with a gaze filled with regret… but also hope. “This forge was supposed to be our ticket to the highest ranks. Enchanted flames that would enhance any metal, giving it properties other forges couldn’t dream of.”

His voice soon grew bitter, and any hope left started to wither. “But every blacksmith who tried to tame it…failed. We all failed. I failed.”

Juliet took a step closer to the flame. “Why couldn’t anyone use it? Was the flame just… too intense?”

“Ha…” The old man let out a small, sad chuckle. “Intensity wasn’t the issue. The issue is that the rumor was true, truer than I would have ever wanted it to be.”

“Hm…” Julian also glanced at the dim blue flame, slightly confused about whether or not the guild master was being literal.

“It’s…alive.” The guild master raised his trembling finger and pointed it at the flame, “That flame has a spirit bound to it, and it does not simply let anyone control it. Every blacksmith here tried to tame it, but none of us could meet its demands. One by one, they left, went to other branches. I stayed, hoping to keep the place alive somehow. But this guild…

…it has become my tomb.”

“So, it’s only you here?” Julian asked, his head slightly tilting as he listened.

“Yes.” The old man nodded, his expression growing somber. “Just me, and a forge that refuses to serve any master. I’ve come to accept it—that maybe this guild will end with me.”

The silence hung heavy after the old man’s story, each of them absorbing the weight of what he’d said. Even Cyrus forgot to whisper something to the Chat, afraid that it might break their… immersion.

Juliet’s gaze shifted between the enchanted blue flame and Julian, a spark of determination flashing in her eyes.

“So…” she whispered, her voice steady, “If no one here could tame the forge, what does it actually want? You said it has a spirit, right? Why can’t we… awaken it?”

“Because it’s angry now.” The old guild master laughed wryly, his steps becoming violent as he approached the fire, causing both Julian and Juliet to move away, “To awaken the spirit within that flame, you’d need to put a part of your soul into it. It’s…like pouring your life into the forge until it recognizes you as its master…

…but we poured too much, we pushed too much that the spirit within had become wrathful.”

“That’s going to be a problem.” Juliet sighed, slightly wincing as she glanced at the old guild master, “We…sort of need this flame to create a [Unique Epic] weapon?”

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“Then I am afraid you have come to the wrong place.” The old guild master shook his head, “Only a blacksmith with true mastery can resonate with the flames now—anyone less would find themselves incinerated by its cold touch.”

“You just described my master.” Juliet pointed at Julian, excitement escaping her curling lips, “He’s a grandmaster.”

“Grandmaster? Ha!” The old guild master scoffed in amusement, staring deep into Julian’s eyes, “He doesn’t even possess a [Blacksmith] class. The spirit would eat him alive.”

“I’m serious.” Juliet’s eye slightly twitched, slightly annoyed at the fact that Julian was being looked down upon, “He might be even better than you.”

“It’s not about being better!” The flames danced along with the dust as the guild master’s voice caused the entire smithy to tremble, “It’s about being worthy! The spirit requires someone with the [Blacksmith] class to touch it—what do you think would happen if someone not possessing it would touch it!? He will burn! Turn into ashes!”

“Okay, alright…” Juliet turned her head away as the old guild master’s saliva started spraying everywhere, “...But I’m telling you, Julian is—”

“It’s fine, Juliet.” Julian cut her words off.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Juliet scoffed as she finally let go of her war axe, resting it on a nearby bench before approaching the flames again, “Well, old man. I do have a [Blacksmith] class. Mind if I try?”

“Maybe that’s not the best idea.” Cyrus, who had been quiet the entire time, placed his hand on Juliet’s shoulder, “The spirits are… prideful creatures, Juliet. I’ve met one before and they’re not really someone to be trifled with.”

“Eh. I’ll be fine.” But Juliet was already stepping toward the forge, her gaze locked on the blue flames. She rolled up her sleeve, holding her hand out to the flames, her breaths deepening as she drew closer. The cold fire flickered, almost as if it was sensing her approach.

“You heard the old man’s story, no one’s died before.” She whispered, “Alright… here goes nothing.”

As her fingers inched closer, the blue flames flickered and twisted, reacting to her presence with an almost curious movement. And for a very brief moment, just as her hand brushed the fire, Julian noticed her eyes turning completely white.

“Juliet…?”

“Ssh!” The old guild master stopped Julian from approaching, “She’s now in the presence of the spirit, do not touch her!”

Julian quickly paused as he heard the guild master, making sure to take several steps back so as to not disturb Juliet.

A second.

A minute.

An hour.

An entire hour had passed, and yet Juliet’s hand remained above the dim fire. But very soon, however, when they thought they would have to wait for another moment to pass… the flames surged violently, wrapping around Juliet’s arm with a fierce grip.

“Gah!” Juliet gasped awake, her arm locked in place as the cold flames crawled up her skin as if it was alive. Its touch was both searing and chilling, an intense cold that burned with an unnatural… and weird ferocity.

“Juliet!” Julian stepped forward instinctively, but the old man held up a hand.

“Wait!” the guildmaster barked. “If she pulls back too fast, it’ll only tighten its hold.”

The cold flames began to creep higher, its icy grip biting into her skin with a sinister intent.

“Tch!” Cyrus leaped forward, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back, yanking her free and throwing her far away from the forge.

“What…” She staggered slightly, catching her breath as she looked down at her arm, now lined with faint, frostbitten marks where the flames had touched. Soon, however, those marks disappeared almost as if nothing happened.

“I’m…” Her eyes met Julian’s, and she shook her head, a weak smile of reassurance on her lips, “I’m fine… I guess it doesn’t like me that much?”

The old man’s expression darkened. “I told you. Only an unparalleled blacksmith can dominate the flame, and even then, one has to prove themselves worthy. The guild had high hopes for this enchanted flame… but instead, it broke us. What could some no-name like you ever hope to achieve?”

“Hm…” Julian’s gaze drifted back to the cold flames. He took a step closer, observing the faint blue aura that seemed to pulse from within.

“Don’t even think about it, kid,” the old man cautioned, eyeing Julian’s movement. “You don’t have a [Blacksmith] class, and I already warned you—this flame doesn’t play nice with imposters. I would suggest the three of you leave this place and never—”

“Sword Junkie, what are you doing!?”

“Julian!?”

And before the guild master could finish his words of warning, Juliet and Cyrus’s eyes went wide as they saw Julian just casually placing his hand over the frosty fire. And the moment the tip of his fingers touched the blue flame, everything just suddenly went silent.

“Hm?” Julian looked around, only to see everyone frozen; Juliet and Cyrus, reaching out to him… but their bodies were completely suspended in time. And soon, Julian’s vision blurred, and everything around him dissolved into a sea of blue.

Julian felt his feet leave solid ground, drifting in a space that was endless and bright, with hues of blue swirling like chilled mist around him.

He recognized this sensation—it was eerily similar to the Mana Chamber in the Tower of Mana, but this place had a chill that seemed to seep right through to his bones… but at the same time, it scalded his skin with heat.

“This… place again?” Suffice it to say, Julian doesn’t have a very fond memory of this place.

He tried to look around, but everything was shrouded in a gentle, icy glow. There was no clear form, no shapes to guide his vision—just an expanse of… a cold light.

“Another one?” Then, slowly, something began to take shape in front of him.

A figure emerged from the blue haze, materializing as if woven from the cold flames itself. Its body soon took the shape of a human, wreathed in blue flames that flickered with a strange and wild calmness.

“Hm…?” The spirit’s eyes glowed faintly, piercing Julian with an intense, scrutinizing stare.

The spirit tilted her head, her voice soft yet sharp as a blade. “So… this is the one who dares touch the flames of Searadyn?”

“Uhm… Yes?” Julian casually waved his hand at the spirit, a small smile crawling on his face, “My name is Julian.”

“I do not care for your name!” The spirit lashed out, waving her hand violently at him and causing multitudes of solid flames to spike out from the empty space—all pointed at Julian.

“I am an Avatar of Searadyn, Spirit of the Frostfire,” she announced, her voice like the crackle of ice. “You stand here with a foolish audacity, mortal…”

“Sorry.” Julian sighed, his eyes looking at the weird, solid flames inching closer and closer to him, “I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk…?” The flames surrounding the Avatar of Searadyn faltered, her deep eyes twitching as they stared at Julian, “You… You are not even of the [Blacksmith] class. And yet you want to talk... to me?”

Her form surged forward, her flame-wreathed hand reaching out as though wanting to snap his neck there and then.

“Kh…” Julian felt an intense cold wrap around him, but even still, he held his ground.

“I am already more than vexed from having been awakened by that foolish girl—and someone like you dares even touch me? Me!?” The Avatar of Searadyn’s voice caused the entire domain to quake,

“Your death will not even be enough to quench my wrath!”

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