The forge roared like a living beast. Heat washed over me in thick waves, searing the sweat that rolled down my neck before it even reached my collar. My arms ached just from standing here, still sore from yesterday's fight, but Drake wasn't the kind of man you told "no" to.
"Pick it up," he said, his gravel voice cutting through the ringing of hammer against metal. He didn't look at me, just kept driving his hammer down on the glowing blade he'd been shaping since dawn. "You don't get stronger by staring at the flames."
I tightened the straps on my gauntlets and hefted the hammer he'd set aside for me. It was heavier than I remembered—my muscles trembled before I even got it over the metal bar waiting on the anvil.
"Channel strikes," Drake said. He didn't have to explain; he'd shown me yesterday. The grooves etched along the gauntlets needed reinforcement—channels for energy to flow, not just blunt steel to soak hits. "Even spacing. Don't smash. Guide."
I swallowed, nodded, and brought the hammer down. Sparks leapt up, kissing my forearm with hot needles. I hissed and almost dropped the hammer, but Drake only snorted.
"Too soft. Again."
I tried again. And again. Every strike rattled through my bones, until my hands went numb inside the gauntlets. The grooves slowly deepened, glowing faint orange under the forge-light as if the steel itself was sighing into place.
Drake finally leaned over, his thick white beard glinting with sweat and copper rings. He inspected the metal with a careful eye, then grunted. "Better. You learn faster when it hurts."
I gave him a sideways glance. "You enjoy this too much."
"Boy," he rumbled, straightening, "pain is the only teacher that never lies."
The words stuck with me. I looked down at my gauntlets—scarred, dented, but stronger now. They felt heavier in a way that wasn't just weight, like they remembered the strikes I'd taken and the ones I'd given.
By the time Drake let me go, my shirt was soaked through, my arms throbbed, and my throat burned for water. He waved me off with a casual flick, already turning back to his own work.
"West side," he said. "She'll be waiting."
I didn't need to ask who.
⸻
Lina stood with her arms crossed at the treeline, silver-gray hair catching threads of sunlight through the branches. A slim wand rested at her side, dark wood polished smooth. Her gray eyes landed on me, flicked briefly to my gauntlets, then back to my face.
"You look like you fought the forge itself," she said.
"Not far from it."
Her mouth twitched—maybe amusement, maybe just dismissal. Hard to tell with her. She turned and walked into the forest without another word.
I followed.
The deeper we went, the colder the air grew. It wasn't the natural chill of morning, but something heavier, sharper, like the forest itself was warning us. Frost edged the leaves though the sun hadn't yet burned the dew away. My breath fogged in front of me.
"Something's off," I muttered.
"That's why we're here." Lina's tone was even, but her wand was already in her hand. "Mana flows twist when monsters gather. Learn to feel it, not just see."
I tried. The way she'd taught me before—slow breaths, focus not on what I saw but what pressed against me. The forest pulsed. The air didn't just chill; it dragged, pulling at my lungs with every breath.
Gravity.
I clenched my fists. The resonance stirred faintly, like a tide waiting to break.
"Good," Lina said without looking back. "Keep walking."
We didn't go far before the first sound reached us—a sharp crack, ice splintering against stone. Then another. Then five shapes moved between the trees, lean and low, like wolves sculpted from frozen glass. Their claws scraped frost into the bark as they spread out.
Frigid Ravagers.
Their eyes glowed pale blue, breath steaming in violent bursts. Each was longer than I was tall, shoulders rippling with corded muscle beneath their icy hides.
I counted. One, two, three, four—
The fifth crouched above, clinging to a branch that groaned under its weight, frost spreading from its claws.
"Five," I said.
"And one more," Lina replied. Her wand traced a sharp arc through the air. "The Alpha's near."
The ground shook. Frost cracked along the soil as something massive pushed through the trees. The Ravagers froze, then parted, their snarls dropping into silence as a hulking figure stepped into view.
Seven feet tall at least, fur rimed in ice so thick it looked armored. Its maw dripped with frozen spittle, each drop hardening into sharp icicles before it hit the ground.
The Frostmaw Behemoth.
I swallowed hard. My gauntlets felt pitiful against it.
Lina didn't even flinch.
"Ravagers are yours," she said, lifting her wand. "I'll handle the Alpha."
My stomach dropped. "You serious?"
"If you die, it's not on me."
Then she flicked her wand, and the forest erupted.
⸻
The Ravagers came in at once, a blur of icy claws. I barely had time to duck before the first slammed past, its claws raking a tree trunk where my head had been. Another hit me full in the chest—my gauntlets took the brunt, but I still staggered back, air knocked from my lungs.
I swung wildly, catching one across the jaw. Ice cracked, shards flying, but it didn't stop. My fists weren't enough.
Dragon Enhancement.
The skill surged, veins burning as draconic energy flooded my arms. My next punch drove through a Ravager's side, cracking ribs of ice, forcing a guttural shriek from its throat. It collapsed but didn't die, scrambling back up with frost-glazed fury.
Claws tore across my forearm—pain seared, hot blood steaming in the cold. Another slammed me from the side, dragging me into the dirt. Teeth snapped inches from my face. I shoved my gauntlets between us, straining as icy fangs ground against steel.
The third hit me from behind. Claws raked down my back, burning lines of pain. I roared and twisted, slamming one gauntlet up in a wild arc. Space rippled.
I stumbled—no, shifted.
One blink I was beneath the Ravager's jaws. The next, I was two feet to the right, its teeth biting air.
The world tilted, nausea stabbing through my skull. My knees buckled. The Ravager spun toward me, but my fist was already moving.
The punch crushed into its temple, dragon energy cracking the ice like brittle glass. The beast fell, twitching once before going still.
I gagged, dizzy, every bone screaming. That hadn't been normal movement.
Across the clearing, Lina's wand carved patterns in the air, precise and merciless. "Aqua Lance," she murmured. Spears of water condensed, freezing mid-flight before slamming into the Behemoth's chest. Each strike echoed like stone shattering, shards exploding outward. The monster roared, but Lina didn't stop. Her movements were smooth, unhurried, as if she was orchestrating rather than fighting.
I didn't have time to watch. Another Ravager lunged.
I ducked low this time, drove an uppercut straight into its gut. My knuckles sank deep, frost splintering. The beast wheezed, then collapsed.
But claws still tore at me from every side. Cuts lined my arms and shoulders, burning with cold. My breath came ragged, each inhale slicing like broken glass in my lungs.
Move. Don't stop.
I gritted my teeth and swung again. And again. Each strike left trails of resonance flickering in the air, faint threads tugging at the space around my fists.
Another Ravager fell. Then another.
By the time the last staggered back, legs broken from repeated strikes, I could barely stand. Blood ran hot down my side, steam rising where it met the ice-ridden ground.
The Behemoth roared, frost exploding outward in a shockwave. I stumbled, caught myself on a knee.
Lina's voice cut sharp and clear. "Torrent Break."
Her wand slammed down. A column of water burst from the ground, swirling upward into a spiraling torrent that struck the Behemoth dead center. The force ripped it off its feet, slammed it against the trees, ice armor cracking, bones splintering.
It staggered, somehow still upright.
I didn't think. I ran.
Dragon Enhancement flared, every muscle screaming. I leapt, driving both fists into its chest. The gauntlets lit, resonance threads snapping tight like cords of gravity itself pulling me forward.
Impact.
The Behemoth's chest caved inward, ice shattering, a shockwave bursting out that rattled my teeth. The beast fell, the ground shaking beneath its weight.
Silence.
My chest heaved. My arms trembled, blood dripping from a dozen cuts. My legs felt like they'd give any second.
Lina lowered her wand, gray eyes cool as ever. "Messy."
I spat blood into the frost. "Still standing."
She tilted her head. "Barely."
I didn't argue. Couldn't.
⸻
Back in Pinebarrow, I cleaned my wounds in silence. Cuts burned with salve, bruises throbbed with every movement. My gauntlets lay on the table, steel darkened but stronger, the channels I'd worked with Drake holding faint light within.
I flexed my hands slowly, felt the resonance hum beneath my skin. That… shift. That mistake.
The system's text flickered at the edge of my vision:
[New Trait: Resonance Flicker I]
Unstable instinctual movement detected. Further development required.
I leaned back, exhaling. Pain still gnawed at every inch of me, but beneath it was something else. Something building.
Not mastery. Not yet.
But the beginning of it.