Threads of the Soul

Chapter 425 - 425: The Hammer

Once the mixture was complete, and the soul crystal dust was thoroughly dispersed into the metal, Seth lifted the cauldron from the forge's fire and began to pour his concoction into the mold.The mold was just to get him into the general ball park of the shape, mainly when it came to the handle, so it wasn't perfect. Thus why he had to resort to his ham fisted metal punching antics.

But there was another reason for him doing so, instead of switching what he was making or finding a better mold. Pouring metal into a hole and calling it a day wasn't enough to imbue his intent, at least not with his skill level. Maybe Titus could somehow, but he certainly couldn't.

This was still an emerging technique, so he needed to test if it even worked at all before seeking out short cuts. So, he needed to beat his intent into the metal as he shaped it into a form to suit its name.

A little barbaric, but it's what he needed to do to know if his idea worked.

Despite that, from the moment he had placed the metal into the melting pot, to now as he was started to form the weapons shape with his hands, Seth had been chanting its name in his head.

With every action and every chant, he leaked a mixture of mana and soul energy into the creation as it slowly but surely took shape. It was a name that, in his opinion, followed the laws of Angel.

It was a dreadfully cheesy pun, but it described the weapon and its purpose. Hopefully, with the soul crystal fragments mixed in, it would be enough.

As he was literally pounding the pun into the weapon, no doubt giving it as much of a headache as someone would normally gain upon hearing the awful pun name, Ethereal threads poured out of every inch of Seth's body.

Once they were restricted to his hands, operating as a pathway to his soul and into the physical realm. Now, since his entire body was a physical soul, they had no such restrictions.

Countless threads spooled and danced from his body, creating a dazzling display of the purest soul energy that would make any arachnid jealous of his intricate web. With every strike of fist against metal, he weaved those threads together.

A single thread composed itself into a line of runes, strung together and weaving from one rune to the next in a single continuous line. It was like looking at cursive, but in a mystical language many couldn't even dream of reading.

It was not a language meant to be written this way. That was what the extra threads were for, making up the extra parts of the runes that couldn't be written with one line. Like crossing the t's or dotting the i's, only a thousand times more complex and numerous.

This line of continuous runic text was not just the enchantment he wanted to give the weapon, but a poem. A terrible poem written by Seth himself, who was absolutely no Edgar Allan Poe or Robert Burns. But it was one that told the story of the weapon, guiding it to its purpose and blended with its name to cement its existence and identity.

With every strike of his fist, a pulse of mana coursed through this poem as the ethereal threads drowned themselves in the heated metal. Each pulse entering the core of the weapon while he prepared its body.

The reasoning behind this addition was simple. You never saw the runes carved onto the Requitals, yet they were enchanted none the less. Perhaps there was some method to it that the system could use, but he couldn't. This was merely an attempt to see if he could replicate it in his own unique way.

Ultimately this weapon, in the end, was a mixture of Seth's different ideas. He had no idea which would be the ultimate decider of it being a Requital, or if any of his crazed ideas would work at all. But he tried them none the less. Throwing everything he could at the wall to see what stuck, to then adapt his method from there.

Eventually, when sweat was trickling down his brow from the mana exhaustion and the metal was in as good of a shape as he could get it, Seth plunged the weapon into the water and let it cool. Once the hissing died down, he tore it from the bucket and held it aloft, as if showing to the world his ultimate creation.

In his grasp was a crude metal rod, with a slightly dented metallic box atop. A hammer, in the most basic form.

Seth pulling back the hammer before launching it across the room. He barely used a fraction of his strength, yet the hammer still flew clear across the room until it clattered against the floor and thumped against the wall.

Biting his lip in anticipation, Seth held his hand out. His fingers twitched as he channelled his mana towards the weapon. It wriggled on the ground in response, shifting ever so slightly. Then again, moving a little bit more, before finally starting to skid across the ground.

It slid for a few seconds and quickly launched into the air once it gained enough speed, flying back across the path it had been thrown until it landed firmly in his waiting grasp.

Seth let out a surprised and estatic laugh as he felt the weight in his hand. His entire body, which was feeling heavy and lethagic mere moments ago, was flooded with energy that he happily released in the form of a dorky victory dance.

Just to be sure he tested it a few more times, tossing it into the air and recalling it back to himself, before he was entirely sure that the enchantment had taken. His stupid poem had somehow worked.

But then came the important part. Summoning the hammer back to his hand, Seth held it firmly in his grasp as he gave it a familiar order. One that he gave all of his Requitals. He commanded it to fuse with him, to return to his soul.

He stared at the hammer in his grasp for a few agonising seconds... but nothing happened. It stayed exactly where it was.

This time when Seth threw the hammer, he put all of his strength and frustration behind it as it slammed into the wall and created a deep crater with a thunderous boom. He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration, wondering where he had gone wrong and what the solution could possibly be.

But just as he was getting ready to give up, he heard a gentle voice whispering in his ear. Angel spoke so softly, softer than she ever had before, as if they were afraid of being overheard or as if they were saying something they shouldn't.

[By blood it is made, by blood it is claimed.]

Seth frowned deeply at the nonsensical words only for his eyes to widen in realisation a moment later. The hammer tore itself from the wall, soared across the room and landed in his grasp as if it too was eager to become its true self.

Seth lifted his thumb to his mouth and bit into it to draw blood before holding his hand over the hammer. With baited breath he watched a single droplet form on his thumb before falling down and splatting against the surface of the hammer.

It sat there for a second before the metal hungrily drank it in. A moment later, Angel whispered once more. This time, with a hint of pride in their voice.

[Congratulations. You have created the Requital, Remmah.]

***

Corvus finally dragged his attention back to the meeting of the boring leaders purely because it was time for Woe to fight once more. Even if it was a completely unamusing fight like the rest, he still wanted to be present for his brother.

As Woe made his way to the ring, where his snowy opponent Frosty was already waiting, Corvus turned to Astra to ask what he missed.

She flashed him an exasperated smile, as if she was expecting his attitude, yet just as she opened her mouth to fill him in, her smile rapidly faded.

Her brows creased and her eyes narrowed into a deep frown.

Panic and confusion filled her eyes as they darted back and forth, as if she was listening to something far off.

Before Corvus could ask what was wrong, Astra shot to her feet as sparks crackled around her fingertips.

Her hand thrust towards Woe, her powers latching onto the small amount of metal on Woe's clothing and used it to yank him back.

His body flew across the room, landing in her arms as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"EVERYONE TAKE COVER!"

Black ferro liquid burst from her bracers and covered all three of them in a bubble, which Corvus quickly reinforced with his threads without a second thought.

The next moment, the roof exploded followed quickly by the dome shielding the arena. That invincible shield shattered like glass as a meteor streaked through it, turning the pit arena into a crater filled with stone dust and snow.

When the dust settled, all that was left in the arena, other than flakes of snow drifting down, was a heavy stone hammer in the middle of the crater.