Returning to the smithy in Dark Moon Valley felt like coming home after a war.
The rhythmic clang of a hammer on steel and the intense heat rolling out of the forge were comforting sounds.
Silas Blackwood, the mountain of a man who ran the place, looked up from the glowing ingot he was shaping.
His face was covered in soot, and his massive, hairy arms glistened with sweat.
"You're back," he grunted, his voice a low rumble.
"You don't look like a red smear on a cave floor, so I assume you succeeded."
Jason stepped forward and pulled the Hobgoblin Warlord's dented, horned helm from his bag, placing it on the anvil with a heavy thud.
"As requested.
The Warlord of Crimson Star Mine won't be bothering anyone again."
Silas picked up the helm, his massive fingers surprisingly gentle as he inspected the craftsmanship, or lack thereof.
He scoffed.
"Crude. But effective. A deal's a deal."
He turned to a heavy, iron-bound chest in the corner and pulled out two items.
The first was a set of 10 small, shimmering metal bars.
They seemed to absorb the light of the forge.
[Starfall Ingot] (Rare Material)
Description: A special steel refined from meteorite ore.
Greatly increases the success rate when forging high-quality equipment.
The second reward made Jason's eyes widen.
It wasn't an item, but a direct system notification.
System: You have completed the Hidden Quest [Road of Forging].
System: You have learned the [Forging] skill.
You are now a Basic Forging Apprentice.
System: You have gained the talent [Forging Prodigy].
[Forging Prodigy] (Passive Talent)
Description: You have a natural gift for the forge.
All forging success rates are increased by 5%.
You have a 1% chance to improve the quality of a forged item by one rank.
This was the real prize.
That 1% chance was a game-changer.
In his past life, players would have killed for a talent like this.
"So, what's next on your agenda, kid?" Silas asked, returning to his anvil.
"Gonna go poke another monster you have no business fighting?"
Jason smiled.
"Something like that. But first, I was hoping you could take a look at something for me." He unsheathed the Void-Drinker's Edge.
The moment the black blade was revealed, the cheerful atmosphere of the forge chilled.
The humming sound the sword made seemed to deepen, and the shadows in the corners of the room danced.
Silas's eyes, which had been dismissive, were now laser-focused on the weapon.
He put down his hammer, the clang echoing in the sudden silence.
"By the forge fathers…" he breathed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and dread.
"Where did you get that?"
"Found it," Jason said simply.
"People don't just find a cursed blade like this," Silas retorted, wiping his hands on his leather apron as he approached.
He didn't touch the sword, but leaned in close, his eyes scanning the faint, dark runes etched into the steel.
"This is the Void-Drinker's Edge. A Famed Sword, they call it."
Legend says it was forged in a starless night, quenched in the blood of a shadow demon.
It doesn't just kill its targets; it devours a piece of their soul.
And with every soul it devours, it takes a little piece of its wielder, too."
Jay, who had been quietly admiring the Starfall Ingots, looked up, his jaw dropping.
"It eats souls? And you're carrying it around? Jason, we need to talk about your choice in accessories!"
Jason ignored him, his gaze fixed on the blacksmith.
"The backlash is… problematic. I was told there might be a way to weaken the curse."
Silas stroked his thick, braided beard, his expression grim.
"Weaken it?
Perhaps.
Subdue it for a time.
But to do so would require a power of immense purity and luck.
Something to counter the blade's inherent malevolence.
You'd need a Celestial Shard, a fragment of a fallen star.
But finding one of those is a one-in-a-million chance.
You have a better chance of seeing a goblin win a beauty pageant."
Jason's lips curved into a slight smile.
Without a word, he reached into his bag and pulled out the small, crystalline stone he'd gotten from the Vultures' loot drop.
It shone with a gentle, starlit glow, a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness of the Void-Drinker's Edge.
Silas Blackwood froze.
His eyes bulged, and the colour drained from his face.
He stared at the Celestial Shard, then at Jason, then back at the shard.
"You… you…" he stammered, for the first time at a loss for words.
"You impossible, reckless, absurdly lucky little whelp."
A slow, booming laugh erupted from his chest.
"Hah! To think I'd see one of these in my lifetime! And you just… have it in your pocket?"
"Luck of the draw," Jason said with a shrug.
Silas shook his head, a grin of pure professional excitement spreading across his face.
Luck like that isn't drawn, boy, it's forged.
Very well.
Give it here.
To tame a Famed Sword with a Celestial Shard… this is the kind of work a master smith dreams of! It will cost you, though.
My time isn't free. 1 Gold Coin."
The price was steep, but Jason didn't even flinch.
He handed over the coin and the shard.
Silas took the Celestial Shard and placed it gently on the blade of the Void-Drinker's Edge, which was resting on the anvil.
Then, he raised his massive forging hammer.
Stand back.
This might get a little loud," he warned.
CLANG!
He struck the pommel of the sword, not the blade.
The hammer blow wasn't one of brute force, but of pure, resonant energy.
A deep, bell-like tone filled the smithy.
The Celestial Shard on the blade instantly dissolved into a shower of pure white light, which flowed like liquid mercury across the black steel.
The dark runes on the sword flared up, fighting back against the light, and a low, guttural scream seemed to emanate from the blade itself.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Silas hammered a rhythmic, powerful beat, his entire body a symphony of controlled power.
With each strike, the pure light of the shard burned brighter, searing itself into the metal.
The dark runes flickered and dimmed, receding into the steel until they were barely visible.
The oppressive, soul-chilling aura of the sword lessened, replaced by a clean, sharp hum of raw power.
After a final, resounding CLANG! that sent a tremor through the floor, Silas stopped.
The light faded, leaving the sword looking the same, yet feeling fundamentally different.
It was still dangerous, but it was no longer malevolent.
It felt… tamed.
Jason picked it up.
It felt lighter, more responsive.
He checked the description.
[Void-Drinker's Edge (Curse Weakened)]
Magic Weapon
…
Backlash: Every 100 creatures killed, user's attributes will be reduced by 10% for 3 hours.
(Previously 50 creatures, 20% for 5 hours).
If the wielder dies, there is a 50% chance this item will drop.
(Previously 100%).
The penalty was halved.
It was a massive improvement, making the sword far more manageable.
"Incredible work, Master Blackwood," Jason said, genuinely impressed.
"Hmph. It's what I do," Silas grunted, though a proud gleam was in his eyes.
"Now, get that thing out of my sight before it gives me any more ideas. I have work to do."
Just as Jason sheathed his newly improved weapon, a notification pinged on his interface.
It was a call from a player named 'Solitary Blade'.
Jason accepted.
"Ye Feng? It's Solitary Blade," a gruff voice said.
Listen, my party and I are getting ready to run the Level 2 Dungeon, the Crypt of Whispers.
We heard you're the expert who's been shaking things up in Red Leaf Town.
We need a solid DPS.
Are you in?
Jason recalled the name.
Solitary Blade was a skilled Warrior, a veteran player who would become a well-known party leader in the future.
"I'm interested," Jason replied.
"What are the loot rules?"
There was a pause.
Standard Guild rules.
Priority for class-specific gear based on need.
Materials rolled for.
"Not good enough," Jason said flatly.
"I'll come, but I get priority on all Swordsman equipment, and I get first pick of any Forging Designs that drop from the final boss. No negotiations."
Another, longer pause. Jason could hear muttering in the background on the other end of the line.
Solitary Blade came back on, his voice strained.
"That's… a steep price. My team isn't happy about taking orders from a Level 1 player they've never met."
Jason almost laughed.
They were still judging him by his level.
"I'm Level 3 now," he corrected coolly.
And my conditions are firm.
If you want the First Clear of Hell Mode, you'll agree.
If not, good luck finding someone else who can get you through it.
The silence on the other end was deafening.
Finally, Solitary Blade sighed in defeat.
"Fine. You have a deal. Meet us at the dungeon entrance in one hour."
The call ended.
Jay stared at Jason, his mouth agape.
"You just bossed around a whole party of Level 2 veterans and they… agreed? Who are you, man?"
Jason just smiled, a glint in his eye.
"I'm the guy who's going to get us a ton of new gear."
He turned and gave a final nod to Silas.
"Let's go, Jay. We have a Crypt to clear."