Boom! Clang! Clang!
Amidst the explosive roar and the scorching air currents, the sharp, rhythmic clang of metal echoed through the volcanic cavern.
The dungeon, bathed in the fiery red glow of the lava and the acrid scent of smoke, provided a surreal backdrop for this intense 'battle'.
Emerging from the haze of this 'chaos' was a massive figure, nearly three meters tall.
Its colossal form, bathed in the light of the lava, radiated an aura of raw power. Long, twisted horns adorned its head, and fiery red whiskers cascaded down its chest.
Its whiskers curled, their tips singed from the heat, complementing the horns.
The eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, reflecting the surrounding heat and violence.
Clang!
As its hammer-wielding arm rose once more and struck the metal, sparks flew, illuminating the surroundings, creating a scene that was almost artistic.
"Hmm?"
Just as the taut, muscular arm was about to rise again, the massive figure suddenly emitted a low hum, its motion halting.
"I sense a presence."
A deep voice, laden with experience and pride, reverberated through the forge, expressing the giant's thoughts.
"Faint, but undeniably there."
Boom! Clang!
The sound of colliding metal ceased abruptly, and the massive figure slowly lowered its hammer, the vibrations in the air gradually subsiding. The cavern seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the enigmatic blacksmith's next words.
It turned, its glowing eyes piercing through the swirling smoke. The eerie light of the lava illuminated the figure, revealing the intricate details of its crimson whiskers and twisted horns.
"It has been quite some time since anyone dared to venture into this forsaken place, I thought I was hidden well."
The words echoed through the cavern, laced with a hint of mystique. The blacksmith's gaze shifted towards the entrance, as if peering into the shadows that concealed the presence.
"To come to this place, far removed from the world… hidden in the heart of the volcano, a land few have ever set foot upon… what brings you here, lost soul?"
The shadows at the entrance remained still, the cavern seemingly holding its breath.
"Alas…"
Subsequently, the blacksmith sighed, continuing with ancient wisdom.
"I didn't expect to encounter such a young man in this place… Fate is truly a curious thing. However, young one, the flame within your heart is like an open book to my eyes. I can feel the weight of your steps, hear the whispers of your intentions. You carry a story, one that is deeply etched into your soul."
The blacksmith's words reverberated through the cavern as if he could perceive things beyond the grasp of ordinary senses, an extraordinary wisdom residing within those crimson eyes.
"…Indeed, it's difficult to escape the eyes of an existence like you…"
Bathed in the glow of the lava, at the center of the cave, the shadows suddenly stirred. A figure emerged from the darkness, his violet eyes gleaming with a fierce light that rivaled the molten rock.
His silhouette gradually came into focus, his face set with an unwavering expression.
The young man stepped forward, offering a nod to the ancient blacksmith. His expression was impassive, as if he had long anticipated being discovered.
"I didn't expect a young man like you to make it all the way from the entrance. I suppose my senses are dulling," the blacksmith's eyes peered deeply at the unknown visitor, scrutinizing the young man through his intense gaze.
"Something… I sense something from you."
The young man stood silently, saying nothing, appearing rather relaxed in the face of this massive, imposing presence, as if assured of his safety.
"I see…"
The blacksmith stroked his whiskers, as if finally realizing something.
"I never expected to sense the aura of the most ancient ones within you… Now, everything makes sense."
From the blacksmith's eyes, a familiar shadow seemed to flash across the young man, a presence of something seen before.
However, in that very instant, the blacksmith's interest seemed to wane, and he turned back to the forge, ignoring the young man as if his existence was of no consequence.
"Whoever you are, or whatever you carry, I do not wish to be disturbed," the blacksmith's deep, resonant voice echoed through the cavern.
Ding! Ding!
The rhythmic clang of metal resumed, signaling the blacksmith's re-immersion in his work. Acknowledged and then dismissed, the young man stood in the flickering light of the volcanic cavern, silently contemplating the ancient blacksmith and the mysteries that lay deep within him.
But the young man did not falter, as if he had anticipated this outcome all along. He took a step forward, his voice cutting through the clang of metal.
"How long do you intend to keep running away?" he asked, his expression calm and unchanged.
The blacksmith remained focused on his work, ignoring the question as if the words had been carried away by the swirling smoke of the forge.
Ding! Ding!
"Is this how you redeem yourself? By isolating yourself from the world?"
Undaunted, the young man continued to approach the forge. Sparks rained down from the forge, and with each step he took, the temperature rose sharply, reaching dangerous levels.
But the blacksmith remained engrossed, the firelight of the melting metal reflecting in his impassive eyes, as if nothing concerned him.
"Escaping the responsibilities of the past… escaping the consequences of what you did… is this the way of the great Wogville?"
Bang!
With the young man's final question, the hammer stopped again.
"…You know me…"
The blacksmith's tone had changed, lacking the indifference.
"Yes," the young man responded plainly, "You are Vogville, the ancient fire demon, the legendary blacksmith of Nitheria."
Vogville turned around, a different light flashing in his eyes, and the cave seemed to hold its breath. The crimson glow of the lava illuminated the legendary blacksmith, adding a layer of mystery to his weathered face.
"You know a lot…" the blacksmith chuckled, "However, don't you think it's unwise to say those words in front of an ancient demon you think I am?"
The young man met the blacksmith's gaze without flinching. "I know the risks, but I also know you won't kill me."
A hint of amusement flickered in Vogville's eyes. "And why are you so sure of that?"
The young man took a step forward, his tone calm: "You are the one who saw the destruction brought about by his weapons. You are the one who desires to end all disaster… You are not someone who would kill the weak."
Vogville's expression was inscrutable, but the fire in his eyes seemed to soften a little. "You speak as if you understand my heart."
"Actions speak louder than words… A person's past reveals his nature. That's what I believe," the young man continued, taking the final step and standing before the furnace. The heat was almost unbearable, and sweat streamed down his forehead.
Vogville silently watched the young man, his massive form looming over the furnace. After a moment, he asked in a deep voice, "If you know why I'm here, why do you still come to ask me to forge another weapon for you? A tool of destruction. What makes you think I would forge a weapon that would determine the fate of the world again?"
The young man paused, his purple eyes locking with the blacksmith's, a fierce flame burning within them.
The aura emanating from the young man gradually became clear. It was not powerful, nor grand, but it was extremely intense.
As if showing his own emotions, showing how strong these emotions are.
"Because, behind the facade of redemption, I know that it is nothing more than anger and sorrow. Behind the emotions you depict in legends, beneath the way they are displayed in murals… lies the guilt that overwhelms you."
The young man's words echoed through the air, carrying a weight that pierced the cavern's scorching atmosphere. Vogville's eyes remained fixed on him, flashing with surprise and a deep sorrow.
The young man continued, "The guilt of losing that person after the weapon you created, a power that took away those you cherished."
"That unforgivable feeling of grief that surges through your heart every moment…"
"This is not for the noble reason of ending the world's disasters."
The young man paused on this sentence, as if emphasizing something.
"This is hatred for those who took away what you loved, but are unable to achieve the revenge you desire…"
As the young man's words poured out, Vogville's heart was laid bare, and scenes of memories buried by time surfaced. His hardened exterior cracked, revealing the pain etched onto his weathered face.
In that instant, the fire of the furnace seemed to dim, and Vogville was transported back to the times of the past, those memories he had struggled to bury.
He saw the smile of a young boy, his eyes full of admiration, holding a small hammer in his hand, imitating the great blacksmith.
Another scene flashed, the same boy, now slightly older, forging his first creation with sweat dripping down his face, determined to earn recognition.
Then, the scene shifted, the boy's face pale, stained with blood, and behind him was the existence he hated the most. Memories pierced Vogville's heart like knives.
The blacksmith's massive body trembled slightly, and the memories of the past were reawakened.
The emotions he had once sealed began to surge…
But in that instant, his eyes met the young man's. The blacksmith saw something, in the young man's eyes, he saw something similar…
The flame burning in those eyes, hatred, anger…
The young man before him had come here for the same reason.
As Vogville prepared to speak his mind, the young man said coldly, his voice filled with hatred, "I am not the hero worthy of possessing the sacred weapon you desire. I am not here to save the world, but to eliminate those who took precious things from me."
"…"
"Therefore, I wish to seek your ability… the ability of the legendary blacksmith…"
Vogville's gaze remained locked on the young man's eyes, and he pondered the weight of those words. The cavern seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the blacksmith's response.
"Very well…"
