Chapter 7

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It was early, extremely early and Welf had been busy. It was currently five in the morning according to the clock that Welf glanced at in his forge. He had a strange mixture of excitement and disgust at what he was going to willingly do.

He had the design of the weapon off to the side, that would come later. Placing the expensive metal into the furnace, watching as it started to turn red. After a few minutes, he placed another slightly less expensive metal into the furnace right next to the other metal.

He waited several minutes, keeping time by keeping to a rhythm he was taught when he was a child. After the third repetition, he pulled both metals out and started working them with his precious hammer.

The sound of clanging filled the small smithy as he started to combine the two metals into a rough blade shape. The softer, less expensive Mythril worked as the spine of the blade, and the significantly stronger Adamantine worked to reinforce and make the edge of the single-sided weapon.

He focused on the power that filled his mind originating from the very blood that pulsed through his body. After a few minutes of hitting with his hammer, he bit his finger just hard enough to let a few drops of blood drip onto the glowing metal.

He shivered, feeling his power being drawn into the weapon, but he never lost beat with the rhythm as he worked. Seeing it beginning to cool he replaced it in the furnace and waited again.

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This repeated for an hour until he eventually was satisfied seeing the magic infusing the weapon. He grimaced but had to acknowledge the beauty of the piece as he quenched it in a barrel of oil.

He glanced at the basic final shape and nodded in approval, "Good, just need to add the final touches."

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He whistled seeing the final product, it was a dagger perhaps a bit longer. The spine was a white metal that bled into the silver edge. He had taken time to put filigree right next to the handle that looked like lightning bolts. He has done it again; this time he didn't rush the process.

All in all, it took just under three hours to forge this magic sword. It was lightning based, as opposed to the fire of the first one. Gripping the white leather-wrapped hilt, he immediately wanted to test it. He managed to restrain the urge, it was dangerous and could destroy a massive chunk of their home.

He glanced at the clock, "Seven fifty?" He muttered, glancing at the clock. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. He was tired after everything..." he paused mid-step, something felt off about that. After the expedition, Bell had been awake at the same time as Welf. 'No, he's probably awake.' Welf thought, pulling out the pieces of Bell's replacement armor.

"Why is it that after every single event, his armor is completely destroyed. Am I doing something fundamentally wrong with his gear?" Welf wondered, organizing the lengths of high-quality leather he would need. He took some notes, 'This one is only a bit stronger than the last set. I'll need to grow more before I can make anything much more significant.'

A mischievous smirk grew on his face as an idea popped into his head, "This could be fun." he dug through the various fabrics and leathers he had in storage.

After a minute he found what he was looking for. He also grabbed some darker dyes and got to work on his idea. After all, what brother wouldn't mess with their brother?

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Welf heard a gentle rapping against the door of the smithy. 'Finally.' He thought and went to the main door. When he opened it he saw a slender elf, not the white-haired human. He raised an eyebrow in slight confusion, "Can I help you?"

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