The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Months passed after the battle of Portland Island. Within the forgemaster's workshop, Oscar hammered down on the stacked metallic sheets to bind them together. His Reis Forging had improved well over the long training sessions under Aunt Rosett's supervision.

After a hammer strike placed a final Ein nail, the metal sheets melded into a singular block. Oscar sighed in relief, took the metal block, and placed it into the furnace, removing his Ein; the little pockets of air trapped between each sheet kept them distinct and separate. The chair squeaked as his body plopped on it.

"You've finally completed this step. No need to be so tense; you can relax and let go now." Rosett patted some black soot off her glass visor.

At her permission, Oscar relaxed and drew in a deep breath of the scalding furnace air, but his excitement overwhelmed the burning pain in his lungs. He leaped to his feet and shouted in triumph, "HAHA!"

He had not celebrated earlier because the constant training of the controlled state he needed to be in to do Reis Forging had conditioned him to be impassive to any situation, for any lapse in concentration would ruin the process. No longer needing to keep his cool, Oscar laughed and shouted, clenching his hammer.

Rosett's melodious chuckle rang from the side, and Oscar staggered, remembering where he was, and coughed to calm down. "I'm sorry for the disrespect."

"Don't mind it. A celebration should also follow a happy occasion." Rosett shook her head with her hand on her head and her waist. Seeing Oscar's outburst of joy reminded her of the many times she had accomplished similar events. The happiest time was whenever she and Draven would celebrate together.

The sudden sound of something popping in the furnace made Oscar and Rosett turn their heads. Rosett clasped Oscar's shoulder and said more seriously, "Celebration is over. Now is the time to twist and complete it into the form from which the armament is born."

Oscar nodded and took out the flaming hot ingot; along the sides were many lines like a cake with over fifty layers. The ingot was complete, prepped to be twisted, and held tightly in one of Oscar's hands. Slowly, he turned the block and swung his hammer, not from above, but from the side to begin the coiling.

One by one, Oscar hammered the ingot, and slowly, it started to twist. However, this process drained him the same way as the first step because he could not overwhelm the ingot with his power. Too much and the ingot would break and destroy the lining.

The lines needed to be intact, or the Reis would not flow through them properly. Despite being used for the destructive power of Reis, the Reis Forging required immense control and delicate hands, hands that Oscar failed to have as the ingot shattered. Oscar sighed and gathered the remains, dropping them into the crucible to melt.

He expected this failure; after all, he had always endured failure after failure before finally succeeding. One by one, he shaved away at the looming mountains of Reis and Ein with naught but a spoon in hand. The only option that always remained to him was to try once more.

"Oscar." Aunt Rosett said.

"What is it?" Oscar sat on his chair.

"How is your success rate with armament creation?" Aunt Rosett sat down as well with her arms crossed.

Oscar groaned, recalling his record. "I succeed one out of four times." After continuous training, he improved from his old success rate of one out of five.

"Not bad," Rosett sounded delighted. "Quite an improvement for someone without a suitable anima. Don't shrink back because you don't have their success rate, be proud you got this far without their advantages."

"I would prefer to be proud when I do surpass them when that happens." Oscar did not wish to be arrogant with what he had. There remained so much to be done for him to catch up to everyone else.

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Rosett smiled and laughed. "So stubborn. But that's quite admirable."

The small sound of a heavy bubble popping entered Oscar's ear, making him stand up to check the crucible. He turned to Aunt Rosett and said, "I'm sure my master would say the same things, Aunt Rosett."

Oscar resumed the long, arduous process of Reis Forging under Rosett's watchful gaze.

'He would say that even before his madness.' Rosett had a hint of melancholy in her eyes, and her shoulders dropped in sadness. She saw a visage of Draven's young self, still wearing the helmet, overlaying Oscar's. 'I sometimes wish I never met you.'

…….

Oscar exited the furnace, seeing it was late at night, and returned to his house to wash up and rest. He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, thinking about how the year was almost over. This time, instead of the usual year-end events, the Pavilion canceled everything and told their students to go home to their families to spend the last days of the year.

To compensate, the Pavilion gave a free spell token to everyone to learn something new. Oscar used this opportunity and the rewards from Portland Island to upgrade his 'Stone Gaze' to 'Basilisk Eyes' and learn a new spell to help his chances of survival. However, his face turned somber; the actions of the Pavilion reminded him of soldiers saying goodbye to their families.

How many students would die for this? How many families would never see their sons and daughter again? Alone on his bed in the dark, Oscar felt a horrid feeling well up in his heart.

The next morning, Oscar opened the door to find a cheery Serena holding her usual basket of food. "Morning."

"Oscar?" Serena came closer and stared at his weary eyes. "Is something wrong? You have bags under your eyes."

"Just thinking about the Ashen Grove." Oscar welcomed Serena inside and began to eat.

Tucking her wavy red hair over her ear, Serena seemed defeated. "I'm worried too. My father sent me letters, telling me to find a way to avoid going in. But I can't back down when the rest of us are going." Her green eyes drooped tiredly. "I hope we can all make it out alive."

Oscar finished his food and wiped his hands. He patted Serena's head and said in a gentle tone. "You should get some rest. No need to give me food every day. Get a good night's rest and train hard."

Serena smiled from Oscar's comforting hand and blushed. In an instant, she hugged him tightly and hummed in satisfaction. Oscar's body had gotten even sturdier than before.

"How troublesome," Oscar seemed deflated but got out of her hold. "We should head out to meet the others."

"Ok!" Serena smiled.

Together they went to their usual training room but found an angered Celestina grumbling. Oscar turned to the others for an explanation but heard a loud yell from the usually composed Celestina.

"Who does that idiot think he is?!"

Oscar sighed, realizing the reason for her current outburst was undoubtedly Gilbert Lockwood. Ever since the time of Ashen Grove had been approaching closer, Gilbert's many attempts to contact Celestina increased to the point of irritating her. Oscar could offer some comfort as she ranted during their reading hours with a helpless smile.

It was odd that Gilbert saw him multiple times alongside Celestina's group but did nothing. Did he forget him? Oscar hoped that would be the case, but Celestina's outburst against him during that time in the library should have cemented him in Gilbert's mind.

Oscar had no complaints as long as he could continue in peace without some grade-nine hovering over him.

Charles spat on the floor. "That bastard asked to accompany my sister to the Imperial Palace for year's end."

"Isn't year's end for the family?" Serena asked.

"He doesn't care about them that much," Frederick remembered the bullying Gilbert endured in his home and couldn't blame him for keeping them at a distance.

"Everyone," Celestina said coldly. "It seems you're all talking and not training. Get to work."

"Yes!"

After a long session of training his Ein, Reis, and Reis Forging, Oscar made his way to the Neptune Archives to read. Celestina sat across from him with her brows furrowed.

With a sigh, Oscar closed his book and turned to her. "Are you that affected by his words?"

"He has no idea about the meaning of the word no," Celestina grumbled, anger plastered over her face, but her hands remained delicate not to harm the book. "Why do I have to endure this? Tell me, Oscar."

She plopped over the table with a tired expression.

It looked funny to Oscar. Over time, he witnessed her becoming looser and freer around him to the point where she slumped like this without embarrassment. His own brow furrowed; he thought about what to say to comfort her.

"What is it?" Celestina noticed Oscar's expression. "What's bothering you today?"

"Thinking about what to say to make you feel better." Oscar crossed his arms and looked up but found nothing.

"Pft!" Celestina chuckled and opened her book again, a small smile across her face with warm emerald eyes. "That made me feel better. Thanks."

"Really?" Oscar looked annoyed.

They read on for a short while because Oscar had an absurd schedule. Celestina turned to Oscar with a smile and said, "Have a good time with your family. Happy Year's End."

"You as well. Happy Year's End." Oscar smiled, watching the back of the princess he loved for a few moments. He remained in the Archives and cleaned up his books, putting them away. Thinking about Gilbert's many attempts to woo Celestina, Oscar clenched his hands. "That's right. I will let her know my feelings after Ashen Grove."

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