The cavern trembled as the Collectors stepped forward, their orange eyes blazing like molten cores. Kael tightened his grip on the glowing dagger, feeling the pulse of the Forge running through it. Each heartbeat seemed to synchronize with his own, urging him to move, to strike, to survive.
Seryth raised her staff. "Remember, Kael. The Forge is not just steel and fire. It is will. Let it guide you, not control you."
Kael nodded, though doubt gnawed at him. The Collectors advanced with the precision of machines, their claws scraping the stone floor, sparks flying with every step.
The first one lunged. Kael swung the dagger instinctively. Blue light streaked through the air, cutting through the Construct's arm. It recoiled, metal clanging against metal, and Kael felt the hum of the Forge flow into his muscles, steadying his hand.
The second Collector came from his right. Kael pivoted, striking again. This time, the dagger split in two, sending shards of glowing metal spinning into the air. They struck the creature like a burst of lightning, forcing it back. Kael's heart pounded—not just from fear, but from exhilaration.
"Good!" Seryth called. "Now feel it. The Forge is part of you, Kael! Don't fight with your eyes. Fight with your hands, your heart!"
He closed his eyes and let the pulse of the Forge guide him. The Collectors moved like echoes of his own thoughts. He ducked, struck, and sidestepped in perfect rhythm. Every motion felt preordained, yet entirely his own.
A final lunge brought him face-to-face with the largest Collector. Its orange eyes flared, and it swung a massive claw at him. Kael stepped forward, feeling the Forge's energy surge through the dagger. He didn't aim for the arm, didn't aim for the body—he aimed for its core.
The dagger plunged into the creature's chest. The metal in the Construct flared, blue veins spreading like lightning through its body. With a deafening clang, it shattered into fragments of iron and ember that scattered across the cavern floor.
Kael staggered back, breathing hard, but alive. His dagger pulsed softly in his palm, as though acknowledging his triumph.
Seryth approached, her eyes reflecting pride. "You've taken your first strike as a forgemaster. But the road ahead is far more dangerous. The Forge will test you not just with enemies, but with choices that will shape the very world."
Kael looked at the shards of the destroyed Collectors and felt a strange mix of awe and dread. The Forge had given him power, yes, but it had also shown him the responsibility that came with it. Every strike, every decision, could become a mark on the world.
The whispers returned, gentle now, almost a lullaby:
—Forge with purpose. Strike with intent. Your destiny is yours to shape.—
Kael nodded. He was no longer just a boy from Kalroth. He was something new. Something forged.
And the Road of Ash and Iron stretched on before him, waiting for the next strike.