Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

"Interesting,"

Vorgvir, standing nearby, observed the ethereal encounter with a seasoned eye.

The ancient blacksmith had witnessed many extraordinary events in his long life, but the communion between the young man and the spectral figure was a sight even he found intriguing.

"To think such a bond exists," Vorgvir remarked, his gruff voice carrying a note of respect.

"Two young kids, one is a guide and the other one carrying the burden, huh?" He slowly approached the young man lying on the ground after passing out.

His breath was small, as if he was on the verge of being no longer alive….The shiny aura covering his skin had long disappeared, leaving his original color.

"Sigh…..What a pain…" It had been a long time since he had taken any person under his wing.

In the dimly lit chamber adjacent to the forge, Vorgvir carefully laid the young man on a makeshift bed.

The ancient blacksmith's expression, usually stern and weathered, softened as he looked upon the unconscious figure.

'He really resembles him.'

In the end, he couldn't shake this suffocating feeling in his heart. Looking at the young man made him remember his son.

"Kids and their recklessness," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Vorgvir gathered a few herbs and potions, remnants of his past dealings with injuries, both mundane and magical. It had been a while since he used those over someone, but his skillful hands remembered the muscle memory.

Carefully, he spilled the contents of the small mixture over the burns on the young man's skin, the remnants of the intense forging ritual.

The young man's upper body was already half naked since the forging process required it to do so.

"Hmm?" At that second, his attention was drawn to the small armor on the corner. As a blacksmith who couldn't control his curiosity, he slowly approached the armor, and the moment he took it into his hands, he could tell it was something extraordinary.

"Black armor, huh?" he murmured, feeling the cool touch of the dark material. The craftsmanship was meticulous, and the black hue seemed to absorb the very essence of light around it. "You got yourself quite a piece here, kid."

Vorgvir examined the armor, his experienced hands exploring the intricate details. The surface bore subtle engravings, a testament to the skill and artistry that went into its creation and something that no ordinary people could see.

"This isn't your ordinary gear. The quality suggests a masterful blacksmith worked on it. Must have cost a fortune."

Vorgvir continued his examination of the armor, his fingers tracing over the fine engravings.

As he delved deeper into the craftsmanship, his keen eyes discerned the armor's intended purpose.

"Hmm, stealth gear, I see," Vorgvir muttered, nodding in acknowledgment. The material choices and meticulous design indicated that the armor prioritized agility and concealment. However, as a seasoned blacksmith, he couldn't help but notice a crucial flaw.

"The defense properties are commendable, but it lacks practicality," he commented, a critical edge to his tone. "You can't wear this without drawing attention. It's like shouting, 'I'm a warrior!' in the middle of a crowded market."

He mulled over the armor's design, his mind already formulating improvements. "What this needs is a touch of Morphium."

After using the Morphium the young man brought, there were still some leftovers. However, one thing was missing. "Using Morphium on armor, huh?"

He caressed his beard, thinking of a way to activate the Morphium.

"I can do that…" Then, he mumbled as if he had already found the way. "Different from the weapon, the armor doesn't need to contain the properties of the changed form. A Rune should suffice."

Approaching his armory, his hands reached a small button hidden behind the crafts. As he pushed it, a small space was embedded in the wall.

The chamber held an array of small, radiant objects, each adorned with ancient symbols that seemed to whisper forgotten secrets.

Vorgvir's fingers navigated through the assortment until he found the one he sought—a small, intricately carved energy rune.

The energy rune shimmered with a small glow, resonating with the latent power waiting to be harnessed.

Vorgvir carefully extracted the rune, cradling it in his hands. The design on the rune seemed to dance with a soft luminescence, an indication of the energy it contained while taking the mana from the space around.

"Perfect," Vorgvir muttered to himself. Holding the energy rune, he made his way back to the armor.

"This should be enough for a gift," Vorgvir muttered, a gruff tenderness in his voice.

"Cough…Cough…." Just as he was about to raise his hammer, suddenly, a hearty cough left his mouth from deep inside his lungs.

Putting his hand on his mouth, he breathed deeply for a second.

"Did I push myself?" He mumbled, looking at his body. Creating a weapon with such a potent energy and soul wasn't easy. Using Divinity of Forge and one of the highest ranks [Calls] was now taking its toll on his body.

"Tch….I am getting old." But in the end, being the stubborn man he was, he grabbed his hammer once again after composing himself.

CLANK!

The cavern echoed with a quiet ambiance as Vorgvir worked, the flames in the forge casting a flickering light that danced on the walls.

The young man, now resting in the dim glow, bore the marks of his journey—the weapon, now dormant inside him.

*******

"Ah…." A short groan left my mouth as I opened my eyes. The familiar scorching heat I had been subjected to was immediately captured by my senses, as well as the tiredness and aching of my body.

"You are awake." Vorgvir's gruff voice cut through the air, revealing his presence nearby. I attempted to sit up, only to feel a momentary dizziness that forced me to lie back down.

'What is this?'

This feeling was foreign, as if something unnatural was inside my body.

"Easy there," Vorgvir advised, his tone as blunt as ever. "You went through quite the ordeal. The forging process is no walk in the park, especially with the likes of Morphium involved."

As I adjusted to my surroundings, Vorgvir continued, "But, I must say, the results are impressive. The weapon you wished for was created successfully. It awaits your inspection."

Hearing his words, the events before I had lost my consciousness came crashing down. The voices of those anguished and the amounts of energy I had felt in my body.

'Brother, I am with you, I am with you.'

I even saw her while coping with the pain. It was a weird feeling, as if I had regained the strength to resist the pain when I heard her voice.

'I guess this was how the characters of the shows felt when they saw flashbacks of their past.'

In any case, just as Vorgvir mentioned, the weapon's forgery was successful since before I closed my eyes, I felt the foreign energy entering my body.

"Take a look at your weapon," Vorgvir grunted, pointing towards my body where a small engraving appeared. Looking there, I could see a small, shiny, crescent moon tattoo on my chest, right in the middle.

"This…." I knew what it was, and I was expecting this result already. Even then, seeing it firsthand and feeling it felt certainly weird.

"It's not your usual weapon. This one is bonded to your essence. You'll need to call it for it to manifest properly. Just focus on it."

Hearing his remarks, I closed my eyes. The bonded weapon, by essence, meant the same thing as learning an [Art].

You would instinctually know the path you needed to take if you wanted to use the weapon, but at the same time, you would also have room to improve.

With my eyes closed, I focused on the weapon, contemplating the image I wanted it to take.

It was an intriguing process, akin to shaping a mental sculpture. As I delved into my mind, a series of images flashed before my closed eyes. They were like glimpses into alternate forms, each representing a different aspect of the weapon's potential.

As I continued my mental exploration, the images became clearer, as if the path to each form unfolded before me. I could sense the distinct essence of each weapon waiting to be harnessed.

The first image that surfaced was the Green Moon. 

With a conscious thought, the cavern around me seemed to shift. The moon cast a green glow, and the energy rifle emerged. I could almost feel the weight of the weapon in my hands, the cool touch of its metallic surface.

Transitioning to the second form, the scene shifted again. Now, the moon burned with a blue-gold flame, illuminating a vast landscape. I stood holding a bow of Blue Moon, each shot creating explosive bursts upon impact.

 The intricate details of the bow materialized vividly, a testament to the clarity of the mental image.

The third form took shape, with the moon casting a crimson light. This time, I wielded Twin Blades of Red Moon, and as the blades slashed through the air, the crimson energy left a trail of withering destruction. The precision and deadliness of the blades felt palpable in my mind.

The fourth image revealed a silver-colored sky, and in my hands were the Chakrams of Silver Moon. As the chakrams spun and danced through the air, connected by threads of silver energy, their graceful movement was mesmerizing.

Finally, the scene transformed into a dark purple-black sky. I now held a series of Rings of Black Moon, manipulating dark forces to crush the very ground beneath. The overwhelming power of gravitational control resonated in the intricate design of the rings.

The moment everything in my head was finished, I instinctively knew the name of the weapon in my head.

It wasn't something I decided, nor something I talked about with Vorgvir.

"Celestalith, the Transcendent Eclipse."

Was the name of the weapon itself.

I was pulled back to the reality of the cavern when Vorgvir's voice echoed through the space. "Done figuring out your masterpiece?" he grumbled with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, I think so," I responded, still grappling with the awe-inspiring experience.

"Then, I suggest you open your eyes." Vorgvir then instructed me to look in front of myself.

As I opened my eyes, I was met with the surreal sight of Celestalith, the weapon I had just envisioned, materialized right before me.

The intricate details, the ethereal glow, and the weight in my hands were not mere figments of imagination; they were tangible, real.

It was an overwhelming realization that the weapon that was bonded to one's very essence could be this different.

The energy I could feel from the weapon and the feeling I got the moment I touched it felt as if it was another limb of mine.

Vorgvir observed my reaction with a stoic expression, the grizzled features of his face betraying little emotion. "Well, it seems you've got what you wanted. If there's nothing else, you better leave. The cavern isn't a place for lingering."

Even then, I could easily tell his gruff words carried a subtle undertone of acknowledgment. That was expected since we made one of the most dangerous things in the world in this place.

But, before leaving, I needed to check one other thing.

'Status.'

It was the changes in my body and my skills since I knew something definitely had changed.