Durin picked up the sword blank and placed it in the water trough; with a "sizzle" sound, a puff of white smoke suddenly rose, and the quenching was complete.
[Forging +2, Current Proficiency: 9/25]
[Forging +2, Current Proficiency: 11/25]
Instructor Rocov then interjected, "Everything you just did is basic.
Next comes repeated heating, forging, and quenching.
After that is the grinding of the wooden grip and the connection of the counterweight ball and guard.
Typically, it takes a novice anywhere from a few days to as long as a month to forge a qualified weapon."
"So, for the time being, you need to practice your forging technique.
Feel the force with your hand, watch the shape with your eyes, and remember! The hammering frequency must be even."
Durin nodded, continuing to clamp out the red-hot sword blank after heating it, then swinging the iron hammer in his hand to strike it.
One strike, two strikes.
By the fiftieth strike, Durin felt his arms ache and go numb, but he still chose to grit his teeth and persevere, continuing to repeat the forging and quenching.
[Forging +1, Current Proficiency: 12/25]
[Forging +1, Current Proficiency: 13/25]
[Forging +1, Current Proficiency: 14/25]
By the end of class, Durin still hadn't forged a complete longsword, but he felt like he had opened a whole new door, officially stepping into the field of forging.
Furthermore, he successfully obtained a hammering technique for explosive power from Instructor Rocov; for ordinary Mage Apprentice, it was merely an auxiliary forging skill.
But for Durin, this was a complete skill that could help him turn the tide in close combat.
Durin willingly spent these three silver lun coins; for the remaining time, he attended a history class and a social humanities class.
The former discussed the past history of Piltover and how Evolution Day came into being.
The latter, however, described the geography near Piltover, such as the distribution network of the Pilt River, and where merfolk might appear, even describing the curves of the Kumungu Mountains.
Durin listened with great interest, and as the bell for the last class rang, the students, brimming with youthful energy, emerged from their respective classrooms.
Some went to the cafeteria for dinner, some returned directly to their dorms to rest, and others enthusiastically headed to the sports field.
Only the Mage Apprentice of the Magic Academy maintained an astonishing silence, as if mourning their future, occasionally sighing and coughing.
They no longer yearned for the life of a Mage as they did when they first arrived at the Magic Academy; many had gradually realized the hardships of the path to becoming a Mage.
The difference between having talent and not having talent was clear at a glance; here, internal competition became the norm.
Durin purchased a fast food meal with one meat and one vegetable, costing 5 copper circle coins, at the fast-food counter on the first floor of Canteen No. 1.
After finishing dinner, he chose to go home and rest.
Taking the tram, after paying the fare, he returned to Vocal Avenue No. 45 in the Harbor District, opened the door with his key, and the first thing he did upon entering was take a shower, then drink a glass of water before tiredly lying down on the bed and going to sleep early.
…
"How do you prove you've mastered Fire Tongue, Miss Styraatu?
Forgive my bluntness, but you previously lost control of your emotions and accidentally burned to death over a hundred Imperial citizens, all of whom had yet to pledge loyalty to the Empire.
It is precisely because of this that His Majesty temporarily revoked your Mage status."
"Enough, shut up! Everyone, retreat 10 meters… give Miss Styraatu a safe space to cast her spell."
"Yes."
The voices in Durin's mind grew more frequent, accompanied by light as blinding as the sun, and countless noises and shouts intertwined and exploded in his skull, replacing the original dark scene.
A cold wind blew from afar, sweeping across the vast Desert, stirring up withered grass debris, raising a sky full of dust, passing through sparse bushes, and shaking the gnarled, intertwining dead branches of trees.
Soldiers in heavy armor stood in neat ranks in the yellow sand, holding long spears and kite shields, with distinct grains of yellow sand hitting their angular shoulder plates.
Perhaps it was due to the infiltration of the yellow sand environment, or perhaps the armor was coated with a layer of golden paint, making it glitter brightly under the dazzling sunlight.
A tall figure, completely enveloped in a yellow mist, stood behind numerous soldiers.
Against the backdrop of the dazzling sunlight, this nearly four-meter-tall figure unfolded a pair of massive wings behind him, gently flapping with the breeze, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible wisp of sand.
And they watched a young woman dressed in a Mage robe; in front of her palm, a red glowing, translucent, rapidly spinning vortex appeared, within which a composite rune, flashing red, was operating, quite peculiar.
Subsequently, the vortex in her hand emitted an increasingly distinct orange-red glow, growing in size and radiating a strange fluctuation.
With a hum, it suddenly emitted a scorching flame-red light, rapidly brightening, and from a certain broken, pale red line, a bright yellow flame jet, shaped like a tongue, suddenly shot out, its length approximately five to six meters.
The young woman slowly withdrew her mana, and the mana vortex gradually shrank until it disappeared.
The soldiers in heavy armor looked at the young woman with awe and respect.
The tall figure enveloped in the yellow mist calmly said, "Congratulations, Miss Styraatu, I will go before His Majesty and request the restoration of your Mage status, but I have a word to give you."
"Please speak."
The young woman respectfully performed a noble courtesy.
Under the sunlight, this god-like tall figure spoke in a deep, magnetic voice: "Flame is the most explosive magical power in the world; any Mage who attempts to control flame will ultimately be consumed by it!"
The young woman seemed not to understand: "Are you telling me to give up using spells?"
The nearly four-meter-tall figure spoke with a god-like voice, explaining: "No, my meaning is that magic has always been a dangerous power; if used improperly, it not only threatens yourself but also the lives of others.
If you wish to participate in the Ascension ceremony and become a glorious Ascended, you must be prepared to sacrifice yourself to protect others."
"I will remember that; please rest assured."
The young woman nodded with firm eyes, responding.
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