Two days had passed since The Red Fang anchored in the icy harbor of Frostmere.
Frost covered the wooden edges of the deck as the ship swayed gently in the freezing coastal waters.
Justus stood at the bow, pulling his heavy coat tightly around his shoulders as he stared out toward the snow-dusted town.
“This place gets colder every single day.”
Daemon sat against the main mast, calmly disassembling and cleaning his rifle’s firing pin.
“That’s because we’re in the north.”
“I know that.”
“Then stop complaining.”
“I’m not complaining.”
Daemon looked up, his eyes deadpan.
“You’ve been complaining for twenty minutes.”
Justus turned around, crossing his arms.
“You’re supposed to support your captain.”
“I support good decisions,” Daemon replied, sliding the bolt back into place with a crisp click.
“So you don’t support me?”
“Correct.”
Lyra walked up the steps from the lower deck carrying a rolled-up ledger.
She shook her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
“Do you two ever tire of this?”
“No,” Justus said.
“Yes,” Daemon answered instantly.
Lyra laughed, resting her arms against the ship’s railing.
“Well, while you two were arguing, the ship supplies are finished loading.
If we want to check out the local blacksmith district in Frostmere before we set sail, now’s our chance.”
Daemon stood up, slinging his rifle over his back.
“Good.
I need specialized ammunition.”
Justus grinned.
“See?
I knew you were eager to explore.”
“I’m eager to reload,” Daemon corrected smoothly.
“There’s a difference.”
The streets of Frostmere were bustling despite the bitter cold.
Blacksmith shops lined the northern quarter, their chimneys spewing thick gray smoke into the pale sky.
Hammers struck anvils in a chaotic, rhythmic roar, and the smell of hot iron and coal hung heavy in the air.
Daemon stepped into one of the larger weapon shops, placing his rifle onto the wooden counter.
The middle-aged blacksmith picked up the custom firearm, examining the intricate barrel and chamber with a sharp eye.
“Not a common rifle.
High-pressure chamber?”
“Armor-piercing rounds,” Daemon said simply, sliding a pouch of coin across the counter.
“Can you forge them?”
The smith weighed the coin pouch, smiling.
“Give me two hours.
They’ll be ready.”
While Daemon finalized his order, Justus wandered toward a display of broadswords and rapiers hanging along the far wall.
A bearded smith standing by the forge noticed him.
His eyes drifted down to the weapon at Justus’s hip—Gryphon.
“You like blades, kid?” the smith asked.
“I already have one,” Justus said, resting his hand on Gryphon’s hilt.
The blacksmith’s eyes locked onto the pommel.
He froze, the iron tongs in his hand dropping a fraction of an inch.
“May I…
see that?”
Justus hesitated, then slowly drew Gryphon.
The dark purple blade emerged from its sheath, reflecting the low glow of the forge fire.
The blacksmith’s breath hitched.
He took a slow step forward, his hands trembling slightly.
“Where…
where did you get this?”
“Given to me,” Justus replied cautiously.
“By someone special.”
“That’s impossible,” the blacksmith whispered, his eyes wide with absolute awe.
“Ancient records…
old war texts…
I thought it was just a myth.”
Daemon looked over, his eyes narrowing.
“An Ascendant Grade sword,” the blacksmith breathed, swallowing hard as he stared at Gryphon.
“In the entire history of the continent, there are only seven blades above this rank—the Seven Supreme Red Blades, forged during the Great War against Kuroth a thousand years ago.”
“Stormbreaker,” Daemon noted quietly.
“Dragon’s blade.”
“Yes!” The blacksmith nodded rapidly.
“Stormbreaker was used to sever Kuroth’s legion captains back then.
But this…” The smith pointed a finger toward Gryphon, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
“…this weapon isn’t finished.”
Justus frowned, looking down at the purple steel.
“Unfinished?”
“Ascendant Grade weapons reach their physical limit the moment they are quenched in the forge,” the smith explained, speaking faster as excitement took over.
“But according to the ancient war records from the Kuroth Era, a tiny handfull of weapons were forged with Living Core Metal.
They were called Evolving Blades.”
Justus stared at Gryphon.
“Evolving?”
“A sword that grows alongside its wielder,” the smith said, almost in reverence.
“As your Spiritual Energy grows and shifts, the blade adapts, developing new properties.
If a wielder grows strong enough, an Evolving Blade can potentially reach the level of a Ancient Red Blade.”
Justus looked down.
The sword felt strangely warm in his grasp, almost as if it had its own pulse.
“So it can become a Red Blade?”
“Potentially,” the smith said.
“If you don’t break it first.
If your Spiritual Energy erupts too fast for the metal to adapt…
it will shatter.”
Justus tightened his grip around the hilt, his eyes hardening.
“It won’t break.”
The blacksmith stared at Justus, sensing the absolute confidence in the boy’s voice.
He swallowed hard before asking, “Would you…
sell it?
Name any price.
The Guilds would pay millions—”
“No,” Justus cut him off instantly, his voice dropping several octaves.
“I can offer enough gold to—”
“I said no.”
Justus sheathed Gryphon with a sharp snap, the aura around him chilling the room faster than the winter draft outside.
“Do not ask again.”
The blacksmith immediately stepped back, holding up his hands in surrender.
Justus turned on his heel and walked out of the shop, Daemon and Lyra following right behind him.
Outside in a quiet snow-covered courtyard near the harbor, Justus drew Gryphon once more.
“I want to try something,” Justus murmured.
“Back during the harbor fight…
I felt the Light.”
Daemon stepped back, crossing his arms.
“Show me.”
Justus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
He focused on his spiritual core, circulating his energy smoothly.
A faint, brilliant golden glow erupted around his right hand.
“There,” Justus whispered, smiling.
He guided the golden Light down his arm and onto Gryphon’s purple steel.
For three glorious seconds, the blade gleamed like a piece of the sun, radiating pure, warm energy against the freezing frost.
“It works—” Justus started to say.
BOOM!
The Light suddenly turned volatile.
An explosive shockwave burst outward, cracking the stone beneath Justus’s feet and throwing him backward into a snowbank.
Gryphon clattered onto the ice several feet away.
Daemon walked over, looking down at Justus lying in the snow.
“You call that control?”
Justus groaned, sitting up and brushing snow off his coat.
“I held it for three seconds.
That counts.”
Daemon sighed, shaking his head.
“You’re impossible.”
“But it worked,” Justus grinned, grabbing Gryphon and dusting off the blade.
“I’ll make it last longer next time.”
An hour later, after collecting Daemon’s custom ammunition, the three made their way back toward the docks. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Lyra suddenly stopped in front of a stone notice board near the harbor master’s office.
“Wait…
look at this.”
Justus and Daemon walked over.
Posted freshly on the wooden board were three official Guardian Order bounty scrolls.
The first showed a sketched portrait of Justus, his crimson eyes captured in dark ink.
> WANTED: JUSTUS TEMPEST
> BOUNTY: 120,000,000 GOLD
>
Justus grinned.
“120 million?
Look at that.”
Daemon looked at the second poster, which bore his own sharp gaze.
> WANTED: DAEMON
> BOUNTY: 100,000,000 GOLD
>
“Don’t look so happy,” Daemon muttered.
“It just means more pests will try their luck.”
Then Justus looked at the third poster, and his smile faded slightly.
> WANTED: LYRA
> BOUNTY: 50,000,000 GOLD
>
Lyra stared at the parchment, her face pale.
“Fifty million…”
Justus looked at her, his tone becoming serious.
“You didn’t have a bounty before we left the lower reaches.”
“No,” Lyra whispered, forcing a faint, uneasy laugh.
“I guess…
because I helped you two at the harbor and boarded The Red Fang, the Guardians officially classified me as an accomplice.”
Daemon inspected her poster carefully.
“Fifty million is a heavy price for a navigator.
They consider you a genuine criminal now just for standing beside us.”
Justus looked at Lyra, then gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“Well…
welcome to the crew, criminal.”
Lyra looked at Justus, the worry in her eyes softening slightly.
“I didn’t expect my name to be worth that much.”
“Don’t worry,” Justus said, looking toward The Red Fang anchored in the icy harbor.
“No one’s collecting on any of us.”
They walked back to the quiet, jagged cliffs on the outskirts of Frostmere, where The Red Fang was hidden out of sight inside a massive, natural ice cave.
Rather than setting sail into open waters, they secured the heavy mooring lines to the frozen cavern walls.
“We’re heading inland next,” Justus said, looking up at the ship’s red dragon flag hanging still in the cavern’s cold air.
“We can’t take The Red Fang where we’re going, but we can’t leave her exposed to any random scrap hunters or scouts either.”
Daemon stepped up to the cave entrance, drawing a set of small, rune-carved metal spikes from his coat.
He drove them deep into the ice at four key points around the cavern mouth.
Passing his hand over the central spike, Daemon channeled his Spiritual Energy.
A translucent, rippling barrier of blue force surged across the cave opening, blending seamlessly with the frost and sealing the cavern shut.
“Concealment and repulsion barrier,” Daemon said, wiping his hands.
“Anyone who stumbles upon this cave won’t even notice the entrance.
And if someone tries to force their way in, the barrier will blast them back.
It’ll hold until we come back for her.”
Lyra looked back at the sealed cave, then adjusted her cloak.
“Since we don’t know when we’ll be returning to the ship, we need to travel light on foot.”
Justus looked down at Gryphon resting at his hip.
The blade was still purple.
Still unfinished.
Still growing.
He smiled into the cold draft blowing off the northern mountains.
“I wonder what you’ll become.”
With their bounties posted, their ship hidden, and the road inland stretching out before them, the three turned away from the coast and stepped into the snowbound depths of Frostmere.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Today, it rests in Justus’s hands.
Coincidence?
I don’t think so.Lemme know what you think down at the comments.