Lyn stepped forward with firm strides, unbuckled the heavy guild leather at her hips, and with a dry flick sent the chains of her blacksmith belt dropping.
Oslo leaned deep forward, his massive palms resting on his knees. The soot on his nostrils trembled from the heat blasting out of the furnace tunnels. With two fingers as thick as oak trunks, he tried to grasp a tiny copper hinge near the hydraulic steam hammer.
“God… but… if I just…” Oslo muttered. His giant fingers clamped down, slipped loose again, and scraped along the ironwork with a dull, grinding sound. “If I just set that secondary clamp a bit more…”
“Move aside, big blacksmith,” Lyn’s clear voice sounded.
Before Oslo could turn his head, the small, elegantly engraved hammers at her belt were already hovering free. With a soft, golden-glowing trail of ether, three of the hammers shot into the air. They circled her wrist once and then dived onto the mechanism with uncanny, almost lifelike precision. One of the tiny hammers tapped three times at lightning speed on the hinge; the second lifted the heavy cast-iron weight exactly two millimeters up; the third closed the copper chest bolt with a perfect click.
Oslo’s eyes began to grow as large as the lenses on his goggles. He let his arms hang limp beside his body, his golden-yellow irises wide open.
My father… Oslo thought. The soot on his forehead wrinkled as the memory struck through his brain like a bolt of lightning. My father wasn’t crazy… The bedtime stories… the stories before sleep about the Weapon Whisperers… the masters who made metal dance as if it were breathing… They actually exist.
For a full second, the colossal giant remained staring in absolute wonder at the girl who was adjusting three heavy hydraulic presses simultaneously without using her hands.
“Uh… umm…” Oslo composed himself hastily, swallowed a mouthful of soot, and shook his big head. “Alright! Up on the platform, you guys!”
Jane, Aurelius, Ren, and Miki stepped onto the raised stone station, with Lyn unconsciously staying on the plate alongside them.
“Wait, I’m on here too?” Lyn muttered, hastily directing her floating hammers back to her belt.
Oslo looked at Jane. The electrifying aura of her Lightning Lynx form was already crackling beneath her skin, while the hovering, purple-blue form of her spiritual tiger Boa hung behind her shoulders like a shadow.
“For you…” Oslo said, opening a steam valve with a massive lever, “…no rigid metal. Liquid Thokcha.”
A silver-blue, viscous projection of liquid Thokcha flowed down from the upper pipes and shaped itself like temporary armor around Jane’s shoulders and torso. As soon as her electricity discharged, the metal flowed seamlessly with her movements. It didn’t lock up, but swelled around her muscle lines and formed a physical, conductive bridge between her body and Boa’s spirit, guiding the lightning dancing across the metal straight toward her claws.
Aurelius stepped forward. His two swords rattled lightly against his hip. The dark, corrosive pressure of his Cursed Sword continuously bit into the air, while the calm, clear ether of his Soulbound Sword desperately tried to neutralize that pressure.
Oslo designed a chest and arm guard with a dual-chamber structure for him. The left side of the armor was engraved with absorbent vents that redirected the curse energy and converted it into physical mass, while the right side of the Thokcha was infused with moon-silver veins that amplified the soul power of his second sword. The armor kept the two conflicting forces in perfect balance without the supporting structure tearing in half.
Then Ren stepped forward. His Ironstraw Anting was already sprouting fine, hardened straw fibers along his arms.
“You’re still growing, kid… your technique is evolving,” Oslo spoke. He placed two heavy, layered prototype Thokcha pauldrons around Ren, the temporary plates held together by the crystalline testing field. The plates were built from hundreds of tiny, overlapping slats. As soon as Ren activated his Ironstraw, the fibers shot through the gaps in the metal. The armor didn’t trap him, but literally grew along with the density of his fibers, ready to develop with him as he grew stronger.
Miki stepped forward last. Her fire Anting flared hot, but the warmth turned into a soft glow as she looked up at the giant.
Oslo bent down on his knees so far that his nose was at eye level with the girl. With an almost touching, extremely gentle movement, he picked up a narrow frame of dark Thokcha.
“For the fire…” the giant said softly, his voice for a moment surprisingly gentle and fatherly, as if he were giving a grandchild a present. “An armor that doesn’t drive the heat inward, but blasts it outward like a furnace.”
He fitted a temporary chestpiece around Miki’s shoulders and projected a finely finished, small tiara over her forehead. With a soft, mechanical click, the tiara could flip down over her face, transforming into a sleek battle mask that protected her eyes from her own smoke and flames.
Miki tapped the tiara, flipped the mask over her face, and looked up at the giant with big, shining eyes. Oslo let out a short, gentle rumble of a chuckle and gave Ren and Miki a very careful, friendly pat on their shoulders.
One by one, the fighters stepped off the platform to make way for the next selection. Vulkan, Bonk, Zax, and Balamore stepped onto the crystalline plate with determination.
Vulkan’s test fitting showed heavy, impact-absorbing kinetic plates fitted over his chest and forearms, designed to store the recoil of his explosive Anting and discharge it twice as hard on the next strike. For Bonk and Zax, who were visibly struggling with controlling their fire and beast Antings, Oslo projected stabilizing pressure rings around their wrists and necks. The rings discharged excess energy whenever their emotions threatened to take over. Balamore’s test fitting showed ancient iron totem symbols carved directly into his massive chestplate, allowing his tribal power to manifest straight through the armor.
Next were Izamaru, Valeria, Faustus, and Renuardo.
Izamaru’s fitting showed springy, cushioned Thokcha accents beneath his soles for massive jumping power. Valeria’s design used light, flexible joint guards that didn’t hinder the swift, slashing movements of her spirit fans. Faustus’ prototype fitting consisted of clothing infused with liquid Thokcha dust, which didn’t dissolve when his shadow and void powers enveloped his body.
Renuardo’s fitting showed heavily equipped shoulder and arm armor with open hinges on the back, specially designed to give his hybrid-beast transformations room without tearing his clothes.
When the last prototype fitting was completed, a large, heavy curtain fell down from the ceiling beams. The curtain closed entirely around Renuardo and the test station.
Minutes passed. The only sound was the dull hissing of the steam pipes and the ticking of cooling metal. The entire group stood waiting, their eyes fixed tightly on the curtain.
Suddenly, from the shadows far behind the cast-iron support pillars of the workshop, a strange, incomprehensible sound echoed.
“Gnnnrgh… bblbrr… yuk yuk?”
Nicola, who was leaning against an anvil, slowly turned his head toward the noise.
“What is th…” Nicola was completely struck by the absurdity of what he was seeing. He clamped his jaws together, tilted his head as far as possible, and tried through narrowed eyes to process what he was seeing in the darkness.
Silarias, noticing Nicola’s glare, broke into a short laugh and stepped beside him. “Nicola, what’s wrong… are you going to pass out in a second…”
Silarias froze mid-sentence. He came to a stop right beside Nicola, his head tilted at the exact same angle, staring straight ahead.
Behind a thick stone pillar stood three tiny, fluffy creatures. They were monstrosities that looked like a cross between a minion, a battered elf, and a lopsided Igor. They were lined up behind each other, but because the pillar was far too narrow, their thick, fluffy bodies and round heads stuck out glaringly on both sides.
Nyx was about to step forward to say something to Silarias, but her gaze fell on the corner as well.
“Wait… what are those… adorable things?” Nyx abandoned her royal posture in a single instant and dropped to her knees on the stone floor, exactly as if she were trying to lure a small puppy over.
The monstrosities were visibly startled by her movement. With a bunch of incomprehensible blabber, they took off running.
“Yabba dabba gnk! Rrrrun!”
The fattest and smallest of the bunch tripped over a loose chain, took a wild tumble across the stone floor, and lay completely motionless. The one in front stopped abruptly, scurried back with dull pitter-patter steps, grabbed the little one by his fluffy ear, and began chattering furiously at him.
“Bbla mogo! Up up yuk!”
With a lot of shrieking, they finally fled the hall, vanishing behind the steam pipes.
Nyx and Silarias looked at each other with open mouths.
“Uh… Nicola…” Silarias stammered, pointing his finger at the empty corner. “What… were those?”
Nicola began laughing out loud while shrugging his shoulders. “Nah, yeah… no idea! Never seen them before in my life!”
Miki and Ren came over and looked at the trio questioningly. “What was that about?” Miki asked.
Silarias shook his head. “Uh… they looked like fluffy white cotton balls that could run… It seemed like they were trying to hide?”
Miki and Ren burst out laughing hysterically.
“Hahaha!” Ren roared with laughter. “Are you guys starting to see crazy things when you’re hungry too?”
Silarias was about to answer happily. “Well, I…”
But Nicola immediately cut in over him. “No, really! They were standing behind a pillar, but they were sticking way out! As if they thought it was working! They ran off too… really interesting!”
The rest of the group looked at each other questioningly, shaking their heads. Miki began looking around with a slightly alarmed expression and shrank close to Ren.
CLACK. CLACK. CLACK.
The heavy pulleys above the testing platform began to turn. The curtain hanging around the station was pulled up with one big yank.
Dense, golden-blue mist and thick smoke poured down over the platform edges. Brightly colored flashes of discharging ether shot through the space.
Oslo stood with his massive back to the group, his arms wide open.
“Children… Goats…” Oslo spoke in a low, booming voice that echoed through the entire forge. “The designs are ready! The tests can begi…”
Oslo turned around with a grand gesture, but froze mid-movement. His gaze fell upon the empty worktables.
The physical prototype armor sets weren’t lying ready on the platform for both selections at all.
An awkward silence fell over the workshop.
Oslo’s face turned from soot-grey to a deep, embarrassed red. He coughed once, hastily reached into his belt, and pulled out a tiny copper trumpet. He put the instrument to his massive lips and blew a fast, out-of-tune little melody.
Tutu-tuuu-ta-ta!
Out of every crack, steam vent, and from behind the tool cabinets, dozens of the tiny, woolly, white mini-monstrosities suddenly emerged. Each creature had three large, blinking eyes on its forehead.
Oslo bent down quickly toward the nearest creatures and began whispering in an extremely low, hushed tone in a completely unintelligible, incomprehensible language.
“Gnk… quickly go get the test gear please… yuk yuk mogo kwak!”
The white creatures began cheering hysterically, jumping up and down, and ran with a huge racket straight into the storage rooms.
Oslo looked at the group with an extremely awkward grin. “Yeah… uhh… those are the Yerfs. Actually Yerfians. Mixed breeds… created by the Inquisitor to have livestock to sacrifice… I…”
Davinci, standing to the side, slowly shook his head as a warning, but Oslo couldn’t stop himself anymore.
“Davinci… not everyone is like that,” Oslo said in a heavy, apologetic voice. He looked at his own massive hands. “I… I once worked with the Inquisitors. But not like you think… I’m a blacksmith. Is a tavern bad because it serves beer to an Inquisitor? I was just doing my job. And I had to feed my family… until they started using even them as leverage.”
He looked the Goats straight in the eyes, his voice trembling with old pain. “I’m not actually just a simple blacksmith… I’m one of the last Nephilians. Proud, but… I know what I’ve done.”
Silarias stepped forward and interrupted the giant with a calm, steady look.
“Oslo… it brought you here anyway, didn’t it? Where you are now. And by the looks of it, no one was sacrificed, so that’s probably the reason you’re here… right?”
Nyx joined in immediately, her arms crossed, a light smile touching her lips. “Yeah… you’re not bad. You’re actually a pretty nice blacksmith. Grumpy blacksmith sir.”
Oslo stared at the young fighters. For the first time, the heat of his forge didn’t seem to burn, but radiated a cozy warmth. A deep sigh escaped his chest.
Where… Oslo thought to himself, as the Yerfs came trudging up the stairs with the first gleaming armor pieces. Where do I know this power from?