In the midst of a midnight slumber Chifya awoken from the gushing feeling, a consciousness coming from her chest where the mark of matrimony lies. A feeling of affliction to the person she commits, a worried pain.

"Now what have you gotten yourself into again." She tensely implores as she solaces her chest pertaining Akatosh.

Chifya had felt these types of sensation before, and each time her affiliation towards the traveler became grimmer. Having her rest disturb followed by a distress feeling, Chifya decides for a cup of water. Just as she arouses from her bed, and while the moonlight of the three moons burnished the room, she saw her appearance change. She looks at the mirror and saw her new appearance.

Her hair was now a silky silver strand, enough to reflect a moonlight and offering a luminescent sight. The iris part of her eyes gave an amethyst color shimmering when given a light. Her ears were now that of an elven, a pointy ear. Her humanly skin changes to that of a moon elf, a pale icy moon color. And the last thing was her ashen smooth curve tattoos that paints her body.

*Sigh*, “That fool.” Chifya says after drinking a glass of water.

For the lady paladin, Ashalain immediately stops his rummage at the library. Before she could return a certain book to the shelve, she unconsciously looks at her ring, the ring of matrimony. She saw the ring slowly chinks as the colors fade. She was frozen from the sudden case, the only thing she can do was to give her healing magic, through the use of the ring.

To one’s knowledge the ring of matrimony has many uses, it can share and transfer users’ power. Known each person’s location, can share thoughts as basis for communication. However, these stats can be utilized when the couple are truly devoted to each other’s love.

Regardless to Ashalain’s situation, the ring’s ability is nowhere near at its potential. Its only capabilities were to know the person’s location, a one-sided ability. She tries to give healing magic towards the ring but was repel, dispelling her spell. It is undoubtedly that the ring rejects her offer since she isn’t actually devoted to Akatosh. Still, all she can only do was observe, miraculously after an hour the ring slowly returns to its former glory.

For the traveler, he finds himself in a nursing room nevertheless fatigue was lingering his body. A quick glance to his surroundings, he saw all his equipment neatly pilled on the table which is enough to send himself back to slumber.

Previously when Akatosh was nailed to the wall, by the order of the elf he personally assigned himself to be the one to treat the traveler’s wound. Removing his armor through the use of phantasma spell, turning the armor into ghostly item for an easy removal. Moving on, he notice a magical item emitting from the traveler’s face. A quick cast of divination spell reveals a mask, and a faint of dismal magic lingering on the mask. Fortunately for Akatosh, the enchanter wasn’t very much absorbing by the outside news. The elf sight as he puts the mask atop of the drawer, he was rather more interested towards the wedlock mark and the ring Akatosh have. Yet by the knowledge of the elf, he can tell both the ring of matrimony and mark of betrothal was incomplete or rather at odds to the traveler. The colorless ring didn’t emit strong attachment, same goes to the mark, he describes it as no mere than a trinket lodge into the flesh.

Moving on, he creates a sun-like orb gleaming in golden light, once fully brimmed with energy, the elf simply lay it off on Akatosh’s chest for his flesh to absorbs. For the crushed hand, a golden vine sprout from the elf’s hand, progressing towards the smashed arm, acting as bandage the vines slowly wrapped the arm concealing all the flesh.

“It’s done.” The elf sigh and casually left the place, but not before he glances at him still inquisitive by their past battle.

The second time Akatosh rouses from his rest, all of his injuries completely healed. The stiffness of his muscle eases, the heaviness of his body facilitated. Subsequently, he reminisces his previous battle. Fully knowing his action even, the pain, he describes himself as a drunk man on a loose.

“Guess I’ll ask Mr. forger for an answer.” The traveler says after organizing his equipment.

“If ye want an answer for your past action, we'll be needing more than water ta wet our lips.” Master forger implies while examining a certain ore.

“Fine by me, my throat needs some good alcohol.”

Shifting to a different place, they arrive at particular dwarven bar. “Brother.” Forgemaster cry, “Give me one o' your special drinks, our kid here be aboot ta get some deep tale.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Wait your horses.” The barkeep replies.

A taste of the special brew sends Akatosh’s nerves in high-pitch, he had tasted every alcohol from different kind. Elven wine is alluringly sweet and succulent to the taste, human alcohol is rather on average depends on the brewer, but for the dwarven; their drinks are superb a quick sip will make the tongue want more; nerves would jolt after gulping half the bottle.

“So, how's your senses during your time dancing at tha theater o' whacking someone else balls.” Forgemaster says initiating a chat.

“It was awesome!” Akatosh says exaltedly. “It was batshit insane I tell you! Just how powerful did that enchanter did to my ax.”

The dwarf chuckles in amusement, “Aye kid... there be many types o' enchanting weapons, shield, ye name it. Our enchanter however has different kind o' approach an', one o' tha unique ways o' enchanting.”

“Hmm… so, what type of enchanting did that elf use?”

“Soul enchanting.” Replies the dwarf who after emptying a full mug of beer. “It's a powerful type o' enchanting I tell ye kid, casting magix on items be nae different than mere child's toy. But soul enchanting be a different breed, what's special aboot it be ye can put any souls ta your item whether it may be dragon, demons, devils ye name it.”

“Oh… what about gods?” Akatosh respond.

The dwarf went silent as he swirls the mug of beer. “Aye, ye can... but nae mortal has ever achieved such feat, unless yer a god. Well, tha God o' order once insert an abyssal god o' darkness ta a lamp for challenging tha all father. Tha best part was he 'en throw it down ta tha abyss, an ironic result ta a god o' darkness.”

“Oh well that took a humorous turn.”

“So, anything more ye can tell me young lad?”

“I’ve got lots to be honest, like during my past fight it baffles me why I didn’t fully absorb me ax’s ability, well not until my near-death experience. Also is it okay for me to ask that enchanter to enchant me armors and weapons?”

“Hmm... it's best for you to ask the elf for that kind of favor, it's not me to decide. As for your other question, the reason you didn't fully emersed with the storm giant's spirit. Well; how do I say this... both you and the spirit are still adapting to each other's compatibility. You'll soon see the full brunt of your ax a year maybe, but if you spirit be on good chum it might take ya a month.”

“Oh… well if that’s the case then can you teach me about forging.”

“Now that’s some strange request;” the dwarf replies ordering another case of beer, “I might teach ye how ta hold a hammer but what for?”

“I just need how to make pipes and barrels.”

When Akatosh explains his reason, the dwarf promptly laughs. “Ye sure be one strange human.”

“Umm… is that a yes?”

“Aye we can start tomorrow, but I can be a brute when it comes ta blacksmithing.”

“I don’t mid.”

“Then it settled.”

When the day of his lesson arrive, Akatosh was very much determined to his foragemaster’s teaching. Before they could start, he was given a potion of strength since all the hammers the dwarves used weigh more than seventy kilos or more. Plus, he was given a spell that allows him to absorb skill forging much faster. Truth to be told, if Akatosh would have ask to fully teach them about their secrets, right away forgemaster won’t hesitate to decline his favor. But since he was only asking for pipes and barrels, the dwarf was willing to teach him a thing or two about their industrial forging.

Before they could start hammering metals and melting ingots, Akatosh had to first learn different types of ores, metals, tools everything that had connections with smithing. Thanks to the spell that was given to him, he was able to absorb it within just a day.

Once filling his brain with knowledge, Akatosh steps for a new experience. Rough and merciless to the skin and bones, Akatosh’s still determine as he pound the hammer on the anvil. If not for the potions and spell he would’ve been a roasted meat on an oven. Additionally, his endurance and techniques are tested to bones.

“Listen kid, smithing be nae all aboot hammering a damn metal, so i suggest ye need ta loosen up your terrible hand.” Forgemaster implores upon inspecting his third project, “Again,” he continues throwing his project to a furnace and giving him other materials to make.

Three days later…

“Nay, your tempering won’t suffice.” Says the dwarf and then throws his work on the furnace. “Again.” The dwarf orders Akatosh to start from square one.

When the seven days came, Akatosh was moving towards smelting and casting different kinds of materials. It was like chemistry, but he was mixing solid materials as he too quantitates the volumes for the best quality product he produces.

As the eleventh day came, Akatosh was now able to produce a quality product not weapons, shields or armor but rather an assorted item. An item that will give him a stepping stone in achieving his desired trinket. Even without holding his devil’s toy, he constantly ponders how he could do when holding such weapon.

Following his teachings, there still one piece that he needs to grasp, that is ‘rifling’. True, an unrifled pistol nor barrel still works but to have a rifled barrel will greatly increase the aerodynamic stability of the bullet, not only aerodynamics but accuracy. But how can he when there’s no modern machine…

“Unless…” Akatosh says pondering a strategy, and after an hour he was bale to decide one method, that is ‘button rifling’. A technique that inserts a bullet-shaped that has a reversed grove pattern, once displaced, you can either push it through or pull the button if you have the necessary tools to use. Once decided, he returns to the forgery to procure and forge tools.

Just when things about to go as plan, certain circumstances postpone his project. And a new battle is about to commence, a conflict between the dwarven kingdom and the ravel of their ancient kingdom.