Oscar followed his master down a series of stairs which was normal, but he felt awkward because, for some reason, the forgemaster, Rosett, was next to him. Earlier, on the terrace, Draven told him to follow, and the forgemaster tagged along. Glancing at the forgemaster, Oscar thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but several more glances proved it to be true; Rosett stared at Draven's back with the same sort of eyes he had seen from Serena at times when she wasn't trying to cling to him, a tender gaze with hints of love laden in.

'What's their past?' Oscar snapped his head forward, realizing that Rosett glanced back at him. 'Master. Were you a couple with the forgemaster?'

After a while, Oscar noticed a familiar door that Draven had stopped in front of. His master turned back to Rosett and him.

"Put on your fabricator helmets. We're going to forge your grade-two armament." Draven opened the door and entered the forge.

Oscar and Rosett put on their helmets and followed him inside. Oscar smiled upon seeing the familiar workshop covered in black soot, seeing memories of himself pounding his hammer by the anvil. "Master, if we are going to forge a grade-two armament, can I suggest we use some materials?"

"Hmm?" Draven lifted his hammer, a large black hammer with gold lining. "What materials?"

"I brought them with me. I planned to refine them later, but we can do it now." Oscar took out the large piece of red shell from his large bag and the core, the congratulatory gift he received from Celestina not too long ago. His eyes lowered with softness at these materials.

"These are Middle Elite Exalt materials. How did you come by these?" Draven felt the Ein lingering on the shell and core.

"They were a gift. She said to use them for a new armament since the one I had was melted by an Elite Exalt Beast." Oscar held the core in his hand.

"That buckler was only a grade-one armament. It carried itself well against Greater Apprentice Exalts, but using it against Elite Exalts was just a bad mistake." Draven scoffed and rechecked the shell. "These materials are good. We can make a great buckler from them."

"You mean me." Rosett clicked her tongue under her helmet. "Who else will apply the Reis forging so that the armament can flow with Reis better?"

"Reis forging?" Oscar recalled Draven saying something similar, and then he snapped his fingers. "That's right, master, you said you would teach me how to do it."

"Him? Who do you think made your hammer?" Rosett clenched her teeth while staring at Draven. This madman had not even mentioned her and said he would be the one to teach Oscar Reis forging. This was a complete joke to her. "I am the only one who researched and found all the ways to make it so armaments could conduct Reis just as well as Ein. Only I can do Reis forging."

Draven slammed the anvil, a hint of anger spilling from the cold visor in his helmet. Rosett moved Oscar behind her in a protective manner.

"That's because you never taught me how to do it," Draven spoke with a growl.

Oscar found it strange that his master was getting more unhinged with the forgemaster. What sort of madness was this? But his attention turned to the forgemaster. "Why didn't you teach master Reis forging? If you figured it out, then you can teach it."

Rosett clenched her hands and sighed. "You wouldn't understand. Don't focus on that. Give me your hammer."

"My hammer?" Oscar held it out to Rosett.

Rosett took the hammer and walked over to the crucible. She snapped the head of the hammer off and tossed it in to melt.

"What?!" Oscar shouted, seeing his precious hammer being ruined.

"I'll be making you a new grade-two hammer." Rosett stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles. "Now get out. I need space."

Her threatening tone left Oscar with no desire to ask to watch. He turned around while his master stared in silence for a moment, to which Rosett responded with her own piercing gaze. Moments later, his master came out, and the door slammed behind him.

They waited outside, but Oscar fidgeted, toying with the idea of asking what was between his master and the forgemaster. But he decided to keep his mouth shut. If his master didn't wish to speak of it, then it wasn't his business, but then a thought occurred to Oscar, what if his master didn't even have it in his mind?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Draven remained silent with his arms crossed for the entire wait. Oscar hoped the forgemaster would finish faster, and his hopes were answered a few hours later when the door opened. Inside, the forgemaster held a hammer.

"Here's your new hammer. It's been made with Reis forging." Rosett placed the hammer in Oscar's hand. "Now you can proceed with refining the materials."

Oscar's hands held the hammer firmly. The handle was a deep brown but glimmered with the furnace's flames and felt similar to Emily's staff in hardness. The head was obsidian black like his eyes and was only on one side of the handle with blue swirls spread around it like waves.

"Thank you, forgemaster." Oscar bowed his head. To receive a free hammer from the forgemaster herself was an honor few had.

"Aunt Rosett," Rosett stated.

"Huh?" Oscar was taken aback.

"You're this madman's disciple. So it is reasonable that you can call me Aunt Rosett. Go on." Rosett gestured with her hand.

"Disciple, you don't need to go along with her whims. Let's refine these materials." Draven went past Rosett, whose shoulders trembled.

Her quivering and brooding figure made Oscar feel sorry for her. Although he had no idea of the nature of their relationship, it still pained him to see this kind of interaction. He walked up to the forgemaster, who had her head hung down. "Aunt Rosett."

Rosett lifted her head at Oscar, her hand reaching out and patting his helmet. Oscar could not see past the black glass visor but knew she had a smile on her face.

"Good lad. Now go to your master and refine the materials. I'll handle the last steps."

"Yes, ma'am." Oscar went ahead to his master, who waited by the furnace. Inside was the red shell of the Scarlet Brachyura, becoming bright orange. They stared at the furnace together, squatting down.

Rosett, from the side, stared at this scene. Her eyes held a hint of melancholy as she remembered a distant past. When she and Draven happily forged armaments together.

What she would sacrifice to go back to those days, before the madness.

Oscar pulled the shell out and placed it on the anvil.

"This was a Middle Exalt Beast, so its remnant shade will be powerful. Hit it hard and beat it down." Draven patted Oscar on the back.

"Yes, master." Oscar tapped his hammer to glimpse the formation. Once the picture was in his head, Oscar lifted it, ready to strike.

Rosett cried under her helmet, but she did not voice her tears to avoid distracting them. Seeing them made her so happy she could not do anything but weep with joy. It was the Draven she knew in the past, helping Oscar. How long had she yearned to see him through the blinding madness? 'Thank you, Oscar. I never thought I'd see the real Draven.'

Oscar swung his hammer, but a powerful force clashed in the air, stopping his hammer. The red shell was unwilling to let itself be refined. Oscar shouted as veins popped out on his forehead.

'Shattering Wave'

'Dual Awaken'

It was a Middle Elite Exalt Beast, but the remnant will wasn't up to that power level. Oscar's full effort slowly pushed his hammer further down. The force of the red shell was like trying to keep a large boulder from squashing him, and if he surrendered, he would be flung away.

"Break!" Oscar forced his hammer to touch the red shell. It was enough as small cracks formed around the spot. His gasping and panting resounded across the silent workshop—all this effort for a tiny crack.

"He's not ready to handle this. Draven!" Rosett grew worried.

"Are you done, Oscar?" Draven ignored Rosett. "Are you willing to surrender to a mere echo of a beast?"

"Draven!" Rosett shouted.

"No." Oscar lifted his hammer again and swung down, much to Rosett's shock.

"This isn't the proper way to teach fabrication. Even if it is a shade, Oscar is only a recently advanced Lower Elite Exalt." Rosett.

"Shut up." Draven let loose his imposing presence, forcing Rosett to stagger back. "He understands. He understands but goes on anyway. His path is his own and not for you or me to control. Oscar swings the hammer because that is his resolve. Do not insult him."

Rosett calmed herself and crossed her arms as she had nothing to say to Draven, but her eyes lowered in sorrow. Draven's madness was still on display toward her.

After a while, Oscar finally reduced the red shell to a fine powder. He slumped and clung to the anvil from the tiredness that overwhelmed him. The beast was powerful enough, but the formation was more complex and stumped Oscar a few times.

"Nicely done." Draven lifted Oscar and took out a molten ore from the furnace. "This is the truesilver ore, a strong ore for grade-two armaments. Refine it."

Oscar laughed hoarsely. "No holding back today from you, master."

"Of course, my disciple. We only have a day, after all." Draven chuckled under his helmet.

Rosett wanted to stop Oscar, but seeing the two like this made her stop. She leaned back on the wall in surrender.

"It's far tougher." Oscar hissed as the dents were too small. No, it was also because of his limitations on Reis. His attacks only contained half the usual amount not to feel the pain in his heart, but with Draven's words from earlier as assurance, Oscar decided to go all out.

Oscar smashed his hammer with all his might, coughing from the pain in his chest. But he soldiered on, continuing to slam his hammer, spitting out blood that covered parts of his visor. As Draven put it, his skills for refinement were talented in destroying, and he showed it now as the truesilver became flat.

He gazed at the flat truesilver and raised his hammer to refine it further, but a hand held him back.

"That was good work. You have done well." Draven took Oscar away from the anvil. "She will take care of the rest. Go and rest in the room you slept in before."

Rosett swung her hammer around masterfully. "Both of you leave."

Draven didn't respond and dragged Oscar to his room, resting him on the bed. "When you wake up, you will have your new armament."