Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 160 Chapter 36.2 - The forge

"Very well," Vorgvir said, finally accepting the young man's words. "I will do what you wish." As he said, he slowly turned to his own workshop, looking at the metal he was working on.

However….." He stopped for a second, turning back. "You came here seeking the forge of a legend," Vorgvir spoke, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "But forging a weapon is not a mere craft. It requires understanding, sacrifice, and a journey into the depths of one's soul. Are you ready to tread such a path, young one?"

The young man nodded resolutely. "No matter how painful, how agonizing the path, I won't sway. I have not once forgotten the past. I carry the weight of my purpose with every step, and I am ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead."

The Vorgvir nodded his head as he averted his gaze. He couldn't keep looking at the young man's burning eyes.

Never in his long life had he seen such intense hatred oozing from a person before. Even he himself, who had possibly experienced the same situation in his life, didn't feel this much.

'Or, maybe I had suppressed it.'

It might have been him having no choice at that time….It might have been the feeling of exhaustion coming after the long run.

But in the end, he did what a coward would do….Escaping from the pain itself.

'But this child….'

Vorgvir was sure….This young man before him didn't even have one-tenth of his life experiences…Neither did he have the strength….

He could see with his eyes that the child before him couldn't even be called a warrior compared to those he had seen in the past.

But even then, he was standing right before him. Coming to such a place, enduring all the agony instead of giving up….

'What a resilience.'

He was looking right into his eyes without backing off. Even under the scorching heat, even though he was tired, he didn't even care.

'He reminds me of that kid.'

The boy before him probably didn't know, but now that Vorgvir had checked him, he was sure.

'Would he smile like him if such a thing hadn't happened? What a pitiful kid…'

Vorgvir was not stupid. From the words spoken by the young man alone, he could easily understand who his enemy was.

After all, otherwise, the young man wouldn't come to this place suggesting revenge. Even then, he came into the place of his possible enemy.

'Each second must be incredibly itchy for him.'

Vorgvir knew how it felt to be in the presence of the ones you hated the most. Even those resembling them would become something to hate.

"Young man," Vorgvir said as he reached the shelves in his workshop. His large hand carefully selected a vial containing a mysterious liquid. The flames flickered, casting an arcane glow on the ancient blacksmith's face.

"Do you know what makes the weapon powerful?"

The young man met Vorgvir's intense gaze and replied, "The strength of the owner. The weapon is a reflection of the one who wields it. Its power is not solely in its craftsmanship but in the connection between the owner's essence and the essence of the weapon."

Vorgvir nodded in approval. "Precisely. The journey into forging a legendary weapon is not only about the materials and techniques but also about understanding the purpose behind it. The weapon needs to be the reflection of the one who wields it, and even the materials need to be in this harmony." At that point, he stopped.

"And you want to see my essence."

"Indeed. That is what this vial is for." Vorgvir nodded his head, looking at the kid. "Are you ready?"

"I am."

Vorgvir handed the young man the vial, its contents shimmering with an otherworldly glow.

"Haaah….."

The young man took a deep breath, his determination shining in his eyes. Without hesitation, he lifted the vial to his lips and drank its mysterious essence.

GULP!

The moment the liquid touched his tongue, a surge of energy coursed through his veins. The mana around the environment started curling all around, and it slowly gathered into the young man.

THUD!

As the mana coursed through the young man, the intensity of the energy caused him to fall to his knees. His eyes closed, and the surroundings were enveloped in an ethereal glow. The forge's flames responded to the shift in energy, curling and dancing in an intricate display.

Suddenly, a mysterious smoke began to rise from the young man, shrouding him in a veil of the ancient energy contained in the vial itself.

The smoke expanded, filling the cavern with an otherworldly ambiance.

The air seemed charged with magic as the essence of the vial intertwined with the young man's being, revealing what was intended to be seen.

As the smoke finally settled itself, slowly, the mana started taking its shape. The surroundings started to change.

"Moon?"

The scenery slowly turned into something surreal. The moon cast an ethereal glow on the sky, covering everything.

"Huh?"

Underneath lay a barren land, filled with nothing but grass bathed underneath the light of the moon.

And in the midst of it stood a figure as if the moon was his sanctuary.

The moon cast a green-colored light upon the surroundings, creating an otherworldly ambiance.

As the figure came into focus, it held a long and distinct-looking weapon in its hand. The weapon seemed to resonate with the moon's glow, emitting a faint luminosity of its own.

The figure's features were obscured, yet an air of power and purpose emanated from its presence.

In a mesmerizing display, the figure condensed the green-colored light from the moon into a radiant projectile. The energy formed at the tip of the weapon, and with a swift motion, it shot forth, traversing the barren landscape with incredible speed. The projectile left a trail of shimmering light in its wake, illuminating the moonlit night.

The young man hadn't witnessed what it was, but Vorgvir did.

'Don't tell me?'

That was the purpose of the vial itself, called the Pathfinder. The vial would show what would be the most suitable weapon, the blacksmith itself, and one of the most sought-after materials in the world.

'He is one of them.'

The moon….It was something he hadn't seen for a while.

'Old friend…to think I would see one of your descendants here.'

Memories came crashing, but his focus remained on the kid.

At that exact second, Vorgvir had already realized what kind of weapon would be needed and what he needed to do. He was the legendary blacksmith for a reason.

"Huh?"

However, something different happened. Initially, he had assumed the display would be over, but it didn't.

Suddenly, the light covering the sky changed from green to blue.

The moon, which was glowing green, turned blue/gold as if it were on fire. It shone brightly, burning the grass field underneath.

And amidst the burning field, the same figure stood. This time, holding a different type of long weapon in his hand.

The weapon now looked like a wide bow. A wide bow filled with energy.

As the figure knocked the weapon and stretched the string, suddenly, an arrow materialized in the midst of the bow out of thin air, shining brightly.

BOOM!

As the arrow flew, it crashed on the ground, creating a loud explosion from the place it knocked.

"How?"

Vorgvir could only watch in silence and awe.

"How can he use both?"

Remembering the words of his old friend, he couldn't help but be surprised. Of course, the path to creating such a weapon also immediately formed in his prodigal head, but even then, the essential surprise was there.

However, it wasn't the end.

After the display of the explosion, the sky changed once more, turning into something eerie.

The moon cast a crimson-colored light on the ground….Underneath, the grass seemed to deteriorate.

As if the blood needed to be spilled as if the madness itself occurred in the place.

There stood the figure once again, this time holding two daggers in his hands. The daggers shone bright red as, once again the moonlight condensed upon them.

SLASH!

As the figure moved, he slashed the open air. Following the blades, the condensed crimson energy shot right from the blades, cutting down the grass.

On their path, each piece of grass they touched slowly deteriorated, losing their source of life.

'…..'

At this point, Vorgvir didn't even say anything and only looked at the scene with an immense amount of focus, his brain capturing every detail that was needed.

After the red one came the silver-colored sky. This time, the figure held a weapon he hadn't seen in a while.

The chakrams glowed in the faint silver color. The figure shot forward at a rapid speed as he fired the blades constantly.

SWOOSH!

The blades first shot forward, and as they hit the target they returned like a thread of silver energy was connecting them to the silhouette.

And after that, as the last one, the sky turned into the color of purple/black.

A different pressure seemed to descend upon the world as the moon cast a dark, gloomy light.

The grass was crushed underneath the light as the silhouette simply stood still. In his hands, only a small bunch of rings could be seen on each of his fingers.

The rings directed the purple right into the middle of the figure's hand, forming a sphere of dark purple.

And the figure moved his hands as he wished, with each of his hand movements the crushing force on the grass increasing.

FUSH!

As the showdown met its end and the smoke rising from the ground disappeared, Vorgvir looked at the young boy before him kneeling.

"Oh my…..This will take a while…."

At the end of the day, he couldn't help but shake his head.

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