Chapter 2

  A Forge Instead of a Throne

  Three hours later, Jin stood before the gates of Delphi Castle.

  Ministers rushed toward him, shouting about rewards.

  Knights spoke loudly about honor and glory.

  Jin ignored every word.

  Instead, he lifted his head slightly and sniffed the air.

  Coal smoke.

  Hot iron.

  A forge.

  Without hesitation, he turned and walked toward the smell.

  The Grand Forge of Delphi.

  Inside stood Vargas, the kingdom’s master smith—a mountain of a man with arms thicker than most men’s legs.

  Vargas looked Jin up and down and burst into laughter.

  “Soft hands.”

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  “You’ve never held a hammer in your life, boy. This forge isn’t a classroom.”

  Jin didn’t answer.

  Instead, he walked past Vargas and stopped in front of a massive block of dark metal resting on the anvil.

  Obsidian Steel.

  The legendary material that no smith in the kingdom had ever managed to melt.

  Jin tilted his head slightly.

  “Why can’t you melt this?”

  Vargas scoffed.

  “It’s god-touched metal. No furnace in this world burns hot enough.”

  Jin opened his bag.

  From inside, he pulled out a small handheld burner.

  A sharp blue flame hissed to life.

  The temperature of the forge seemed to change instantly.

  The Obsidian Steel began to glow.

  Then soften.

  Then slowly sag like melting wax.

  The entire forge fell silent.

  Vargas’s hammer slipped from his hand.

  It struck the stone floor with a hollow clang.

  ******

  Chapter 3

  The First Blade

  That night, the forge rang with a rhythm Delphi Castle had never heard before.

  Clang.

  Clang.

  Clang.

  Jin’s hammer didn’t fall with brute force.

  Every strike landed with precise timing—steady and controlled, like the ticking of a metronome.

  He watched the steel carefully.

  Cherry red.

  Orange.

  Straw yellow.

  Each color told him something.

  Temperature.

  Structure.

  Strength.

  The watching smiths didn’t understand the method.

  But they could feel the difference.

  By dawn, a single blade rested quietly on the anvil.

  It looked simple.

  No jewels.

  No decoration.

  Just clean steel.

  Vargas lifted the blade slowly.

  His hands began to tremble.

  “The grain structure…”

  His voice shook.

  “It’s perfectly aligned…”

  “This isn’t smithing.”

  He stared at Jin in disbelief.

  “This is a miracle.”

  Jin tossed the blade aside as if it were nothing more than a test piece.

  “Ten thousand strikes by tomorrow.”

  “If the rhythm breaks…”

  He glanced at Vargas.

  “…don’t bother coming back.”