The forge roared to life.
The flames rose higher than ever before, swirling in a spiral of red and gold. Each strand of heat moved as if guided by thought—his thought. His blood, his spirit, his will—all bled into the molten core of the ore. The Crimsonheart responded in kind, its inner veins glowing brighter, pulsing in rhythm with Tian Lei's heartbeat.
"Good," he muttered, sweat rolling down his temples. "Resist me… fight me. That's how you'll be born."
He lifted his hammer, now blazing faintly with the same crimson hue, and brought it down.
CLANG!
The sound wasn't that of metal meeting metal—it was the collision of intent and creation. Sparks burst outward, each one carrying a sliver of spiritual energy. The flame quivered, the forge floor groaned, and the magma veins beneath the chamber stirred as if acknowledging a superior fire.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
