The Runesmith

Chapter 625: Forging With Soul.

“This looks peculiar… but what am I to do with it?”

Bernir asked himself as he approached a strange-looking hammer. It did not appear much different from any other ball-peen hammer, but there was one problem with it: he could not pick it up. Whenever he reached for the pure white handle, his hand passed straight through.

On the workbench lay many hammers, some even made for goldsmiths. He had a wide selection to choose from, including those crafted from mithril and steel, since he could still choose another tier-one or tier-two class. If he had not lost his arm, he would likely have chosen the hammer that granted the master armorsmith class, but at this moment, he was far more intrigued by the untouchable hammer.

“Why would this be here if I can’t even pick it up…”

He scratched his beard with his good hand, then, out of habit, tried to grab the white hammer with his right hand. When he did, something strange happened. He felt something in the fingers that no longer existed.

“How in the god’s name is this possible?”

To his astonishment, he was able to lift the hammer, not with his working hand, but with the one that had been destroyed by the abyssal creature. He did not need his prosthesis, as the hammer seemed to respond to whatever residual energy remained from his lost limb.

“Is it the mana phantom? The boss said it had something to do with souls… what kind of class could use this?”

Bernir was both baffled and fascinated by what was happening. He had expected to be unable to use his right hand during the ascension trial, yet somehow he could wield this hammer. His hand remained invisible, but faint white outlines of phantom fingers appeared on the handle he was gripping, barely visible to his eyes.

“What about the others?”

He remembered his boss’s advice to always plan ahead. Instead of rushing forward, he tested his phantom hand on the other hammers. As expected, none of them reacted. Only the white hammer remained responsive.

“Should I quit and ask the boss about it first?”

For a moment, he considered it. It was possible to leave the ascension trial without a penalty. He would not lose any attempts if he withdrew before making a choice, but since the memory device was recording everything, continuing would provide more data for his next attempt. It would not truly be a waste.

“Well… might as well try it out. I won’t pass any of the other ones without retraining myself first.”

Originally, Bernir had planned to test his limits in one of the trials using only his left hand. He doubted his chances now, as he was still used to relying on his right, the one replaced by a prosthetic. He would likely need months, perhaps longer, to become proficient with his left hand. Yet the white hammer felt natural in his grasp, and curiosity began to outweigh hesitation. He wondered what kind of class could wield such a mysterious tool.

“Here goes nothing…”

After pacing around the recreation of his old home, he finally made a decision and grabbed the white hammer. It floated in front of him, its handle resting in his hand as if it belonged to a phantom. He raised it high and brought it down onto the anvil. The moment it struck, the entire place turned white, just as it had on many other occasions. The scenery shifted, and he found himself within the proper ascension trial.

His first class was granted to him for free, and it shaped the course of his entire life as he became a blacksmith. Later, he chose to become a carpenter and was faced with his first true trial. The skills he had gained allowed him to build a small shed, which was enough to clear the test. Then came the first tier two trial, where he had to forge a full suit of armor for a knight. He failed several times but eventually succeeded. The final trial required him to repair and forge multiple weapons for soldiers defending themselves from a monster attack, which he managed with ease thanks to his exceptional craftsmanship.

“Aye… this one looks a bit strange…”

Bernir squinted as the glare around him faded. Instead of the familiar forge, he stood in an open void filled with distant, shining stars. Beneath his feet stretched a vast floating platform surrounded by empty space. Stairs led upward, and narrow bridge-like paths extended to the sides, connecting to other platforms. On those, he could see piles of raw materials and tools, some unlike anything he had ever encountered. ᚱ𝖆Ν𝐨ᛒЕS

“That’s a peculiar-looking ore…”

Every facility a smith could ever need was present, but whether he could use them remained uncertain. He moved forward carefully, climbing the stairs while trying not to lose his balance, as the place had no safety rails. At the top, he found a massive anvil that looked as though it were made of orichalcum, though in a lighter shade. Instead of stepping closer, he looked up at the wall before him.

“You have forged with flame. You have tempered with sweat. But can you forge with your soul?”

Bernir stared at the inscription, mouthing the words slowly as they echoed through the endless space.

“Forge… with my soul?”

He laughed nervously as he was starting to notice what this trial was about.

“But… how do I use my soul to forge things?”

The forge did not answer him. Instead, something else began to happen. A strange buzzing sound came from his right side, and the white hammer in his phantom hand began to glow faintly. Its light pulsed in rhythm with the beating of his heart. A moment later, a notification appeared before his eyes, and he quickly began to read.

Soul Infusion

[ Temporary ]

Active Skill

Allows the user to channel fragments of soul energy into material objects, granting them special effects. Overuse may result in soul strain and temporary loss of vitality.

“Ah, it’s one of these trials…”

Bernir felt the knowledge of the skill flow into his mind. It was a technique for using soul energy to create effects similar to enchantments on crafted items. The initial information was vague, but he understood what he needed to do.

“This might be interesting… and better than a regular Master Blacksmith of any kind!”

He remembered what Roland had made him study about class ranks not long ago. This class seemed to be a unique one, and that usually meant he could still gain all the skills of a Master Armorsmith, which stood below it. The difference was that he would need to unlock them through specific tasks or by purchasing skill books, which the dwarven union likely had plenty of.

“Soul Infusion… Sounds like the kind o’ thing the boss would love to study. I just hope it doesn’t burn me from the inside.”

The skill description warned that he would suffer drawbacks if he overused it and that his vitality would decrease. He hoped this did not mean his life was in danger. Fortunately, even if he died in this trial, it would not affect his real body, so it might actually be a good opportunity to test his limits. For now, though, he wanted to focus on the ores and other materials around him.

He turned to inspect the items scattered across the floating platforms. Some ores shimmered like starlight, certain pieces of wood seemed to breathe softly, and crystals of many shapes and sizes pulsed with faint light.

“All of these… they have something inside them…”

Soul Sense

[ Temporary ]

Passive Skill

Allows the user to sense soul energy.

“Woah!”

He almost dropped the glowing crystal he was holding when another window appeared before him. A new skill had been granted, one that let him feel the presence of soul energy, and almost every material here contained it.

“Why do these things have souls in them? What even is a soul or soul energy?”

He was already confused before the trial had truly begun. The materials before him pulsed with soul energy, waiting to be used. There were also more ordinary materials like dwarven steel ingots and pieces of mithril, both familiar to him. It seemed this trial required him to infuse soul energy into something in order to succeed.

“So… what exactly do I need to make? Is anything acceptable?”

He spent ten minutes wandering around the area, trying to identify every raw material he had been given. The layout of the forge was quite inefficient. The main anvil stood on the middle platform, while a smelter filled with raw materials occupied the left side. To the right of the middle platform stood a workbench covered with various tools and the main forge furnace. It seemed he would need to move between both sides and the center constantly to get anything done.

“Still, what does it want me to do?”

After he finished looking around, he asked himself the question aloud. There were plenty of materials, yet no clear indication of what he was meant to create. That changed a moment later when the trial space reacted. The ground beneath the middle platform shifted slightly, and something rose from within it.

“That is a display case for a weapon…”

Bernir approached it. The case was empty, but the carved silhouette on the pedestal showed what belonged there. As an experienced blacksmith, he recognized the shape immediately.

“Aye, this shape. Long, broad blade, double-edged, and a grip made for two hands. That’s no dagger or fancy spear.”

He crouched and ran his calloused fingers through the air where the weapon’s edges would be.

“That’s the display case for a greatsword, sure as my wifey’s right hook.”

The realization made him grin despite the strange environment. A clear task was always comforting. Yet, as he traced the outline again, he noticed something different. The space around him seemed to shift. He leaned back and looked up at the star-filled black sky above. After squinting, he realized what was happening.

“Those stars, are they going out?”

Bernir waited, then saw the starlight fading in different parts of the sky. He knew that trials like this often had a time limit, so this could mean only one thing.

“Aye, if all those little sparkles go out, I’ll fail. I need to get to work.”

Now he understood his task. He had to forge a greatsword infused with the strange soul energy he had been given. He was not entirely sure how to use this new power efficiently, but there was no time to figure it out through study. He would have to learn as he worked. First, he needed to select the right resources, since not all metals could be combined safely. The display stand had small wooden supports meant to hold the finished weapon, and they seemed to have a weight limit.

“If I make it too heavy, it will snap, and I’ll fail. If I make it too light, the same thing will probably happen. This will be interesting.”

Even though this seemed like a difficult trial, he felt ready for the challenge. The sparkling crystals reminded him of the mana stones he and Roland had once used to create aether metals. His instincts told him that he needed to mix them carefully with the ores and other metals to form the right alloy for the greatsword. Once that was done, he would have to hammer it into shape and infuse it with his soul energy to trigger whatever effect the trial required.

“Aye, let’s get to it!”

With that in mind, he headed towards the smelter. Bernir stood before it, staring at the array of ingots, ores, and crystals surrounding him. Each one shimmered with traces of soul energy, and now that he had the ‘Soul Sense’ skill, he could feel them humming faintly, and each one had a slightly different tune.

He laid out several samples on the workbench and tapped each one with his phantom hammer. One by one, as if he were using a tuning fork, he felt their vibrations. His intuition warned him that if he mixed the wrong ingredients, only failure awaited.

“I sure hope I’m right about this one.”

The strange resonance he heard was guiding his choice of materials, though it remained mostly a theory. He was not sure if he was doing the right thing, but he was determined to try as long as there was a chance of success. In the past, he had given up before even starting, believing that working without his dominant hand was impossible. Now he felt like a novice blacksmith again, experimenting and hoping to see what might work.

*****

‘So he failed, as expected, but he did stay in there for longer.’

Roland thought to himself as data began flooding the screens. As with the others before him, Bernir had not been able to pass the tier three trial on the first attempt. This was nothing to be ashamed of, and with the help of the system they had assembled here, it would be much easier to help him succeed in the future.

“This is… interesting.”

Even though his assistant was starting to wake up from the ascension space, Roland remained focused on the screens. His memory machine had improved and could now produce clearer and more numerous images. It even allowed some memories to remain after the trial taker woke up.

‘Fascinating, a new type of energy? Some kind of phantom?’

“Bah… did I fail?”

As Roland examined the slideshow, Bernir finally awoke. He was wearing a special helmet, so instead of rubbing his head, he scratched his beard. Roland took the opportunity to ask a few questions before the amnesia took hold.

“Bernir, what was that white hammer? What were you doing in there?”

“Ah… something with soul energy? Souls? Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh right… boss, sorry I failed.”

The device delayed the onset of amnesia long enough for Bernir to recall something important. Even better, the images on the screens showed two crucial, if hazy, frames. The writing was barely readable, but it included system windows that Bernir had seen during the trial.

“Soul energy… is it part of spiritualism, or something different entirely?”

Roland was familiar with several types of energy in the world: mana, aura, and divine might and more. Each existed on a different wavelength. This soul energy that Bernir had used during the trial was something Roland did not know much about, but he suspected it was related to the mana phantoms he had already studied.

“It’s fine. With this data, we’ll get you through it, but you sure picked up a strange new class.”

“Aye, it was strange…”

After helping Bernir out of the chair, Roland watched as he moved his prosthetic arm. The man flexed it as usual, though a small frown crossed his face.

“Does it feel different now?”

“Not really, but… I think I could feel again.”

Roland nodded, deep in thought. He had known for a while that replacing limbs with prosthetics did not help during ascension trials. It would have been ideal if a special class had appeared that made use of runic limbs, but the world’s strange system did not work that way. However, it seemed that through the use of these limbs, a new energy could be harnessed.

‘Bernir was one of the first to receive these prosthetics. The Knights will probably gain the same title, but I am not sure if they will develop a similar class… but perhaps…’

While the runic prosthetics could be even more powerful than the people using them, they could not be taken into trials. This meant that most of the knights they hired would probably never be able to progress into new classes. However, with this new class that used soul energy, such progress might become possible.

He could not yet draw firm conclusions, but for Bernir, a new path had opened. In his earlier research, Roland had read about various blacksmith categories that used different forms of energy, one of them belonging to the spiritualist branch. According to his notes, such artisans could create effects similar to enchantments. These were wards that protected the body from spiritualist attacks like those used by the witch he had faced, or enhancements that allowed weapons to harm phantoms resistant to magic and even divine power.

‘Why does work just keep piling up…’

Not only did he have to go to the new dungeon to gain levels, he also had to prepare a special golem for the Institute event and worry about his sister. Now he needed to find a way to help Bernir gain a class that used an entirely new type of energy so he could progress. On top of that, there was the matter of Arthur’s mother, along with the spies and new enemies that seemed to appear from every corner.

‘Will this ever end…’

Roland groaned and rubbed his temples before moving forward to help Bernir to his feet. As always, he would face everything that came his way, but it seemed that sleep would not be part of his schedule for quite some time.