Perfe.
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Chapter 1 – Part 7R
(Presentation & First Recognition)
The forge hall buzzed quietly that morning. Students wandered in and out, but whispers lingered like shadows. Every eye seemed to follow Jofyn Vale as he carried the rare shard, now integrated into a delicate lattice of threads and glyphs, its glow steady and calm.
A small cluster of first-years gasped when they saw the artifact. "That's… glowing…" one whispered, voice almost reverent. "Is that even possible for a first-year?"
"Focus," Jofyn muttered under his breath, adjusting the shard on the display stand. "It's just… a creation. Nothing more."
The robe floated beside him, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nothing more? Vale, that thing's practically singing. I'd call it an interdimensional marvel if I weren't already contractually obligated to you."
Some nobles exchanged narrow-eyed glances, their pride pricked by a commoner showing mastery beyond expectation.
"Impossible," one hissed under his breath. "He's a first-year… and he made that?"
The professor entered, silent but commanding attention. He paused before Jofyn, eyes narrowing slightly—not in disapproval, but in careful study. The faint pulse of the shard seemed to echo in the room, drawing subtle attention from even the most distracted students.
"Vale," the professor said softly, voice low but carrying weight, "explain your process."
Jofyn nodded, taking a deep breath. "I combined a low-ranked shard with threads infused with Forge Core energy, layered glyphs to stabilize the resonance, and allowed the artifact to attune to my Core. It's… stable, responsive, and attuned to elemental manipulation through convergence threads."
A murmur of awe spread. Students whispered to one another, eyes wide. Nobles who had mocked him only days before now stared, their envy mixing with reluctant respect.
The professor nodded slowly. "Good. Very precise. Controlled. Most first-years lack this kind of patience. And the fact that you have maintained Core stability while integrating a rare shard…" He paused, letting the words settle. "…remarkable."
Jofyn's chest tightened subtly, not from pride, but from quiet validation. He didn't seek recognition—he sought mastery—but acknowledgment from someone who truly understood was… satisfying.
The robe floated closer, voice muffled in mock humility. "See? Told you, Vale. Not all the mortals are blind to genius."
A group of first-years approached cautiously, some with curiosity, others with envy. "Where did you… learn this?" one asked.
Jofyn shook his head slightly, voice calm. "Observation, practice, and persistence. Nothing more."
Yet in his mind, he already imagined the next step: enchanting tools beyond the forge, expanding Core influence, integrating bloodline potential, and pushing the shard to its limits.
The professor's gaze lingered, thoughtful, before he finally spoke. "You may continue your experiments, Vale. Keep careful record of your methods. The results are… promising."
As the professor left, whispers continued, but a subtle shift had occurred. Jofyn Vale, commoner of the lowest-ranking first-year class, had made his mark. Not loudly, not boastfully—but undeniably.
The robe floated beside him, soft laughter echoing. "Mark made, respect earned… maybe. Now, who's going to dare challenge you next?"
Jofyn exhaled, calm and resolute. "Let them. I have work to do."
And as the forge hummed with quiet life, both shard and Core pulsed in harmony, marking the first step of a journey that would soon ripple far beyond Ashen Hollow.
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