The Flame Hidden in the Mountain

Wisps of smoke are rising from the mountaintop, which is not visible from the summit.

Helen held the blood-sucking flesh wrapped in cloth tightly in his arms and climbed towards the mountaintop against the cold wind.

This mountain, known as "Old Ornn's Half Mountain," is said to be where the first ram spirit born among the demigods dwelled.

Herren, on the other hand, came from the ruins of the scorched foundation at the foot of the mountain—the site of the ancient furnace village from thousands of years ago.

Although there are many rumors about this mountain, Herren, as a time traveler, knows more accurate secrets.

This place was also the site of the decisive battle between the two demigods, Mountain Hidden Flame and Undying Thunder.

The higher they climbed, the higher the temperature rose, almost at a rate that was very noticeable to the touch. Soon, Heron was sweating profusely, which was quite unusual in the perpetually wintery land of Freljord.

He had to take off his tattered leather coat, and in order not to delay his journey, he could only reluctantly throw it by the roadside and cover it with snow and gravel.

After a great deal of effort, Herren finally climbed to the edge of a huge circular pit. Wisps of smoke rose from the pit, obscuring the view inside, but Herren could faintly hear the crisp sound of metal clashing.

As the last of the Hearth Village people, Heron could clearly tell that it was the sound of a hammer striking an anvil, as if a sword-shaped weapon was being forged and was nearing completion.

Exhausted, Herren suddenly found a surge of strength, grabbed the loose stones at his feet, and carefully climbed into the sinkhole.

After another arduous journey, Herren finally reached the bottom of the sinkhole. The air here was scorching hot, even hotter than the most bustling blacksmith's workshop, enough to dry any ordinary person into a dried-up corpse.

But Herren was just sweating profusely, shirtless, letting the sweat drip down his body.

He saw a huge furnace shaped like a ram's head, spewing flames that seemed to come from the earth's core.

Before the furnace, a goat, tens of meters tall, stretched out its giant hand and, with a clumsy yet effortless motion, lifted the anvil and slowly raised the freshly forged greatsword.

His eyes were a blazing fire, and his face was covered with a braided beard. After examining his work for a moment, he casually tossed it back into the fire.

Herren knew that this was because what ordinary people considered an unparalleled divine weapon was not perfect in the eyes of this god of forging.

After doing all this, He spoke in a muffled voice.

"here we go again."

This seemed like a sign that He had finally put down what He was doing. Heren hurriedly stepped forward, looked up, and smiled as he raised the Bloodthirsty Flail in his hand.

"Old Ornn! I've forged my most satisfying masterpiece!"

"Um."

Orn slowly turned his head, his eyes burning as he stared at the "ordinary" flail in Herren's hand, his sheep-like face seemingly devoid of any emotion.

After examining him for a long time, He nodded slightly without saying anything.

But this was enough to invigorate Herren. He knew that it meant Orn approved of the work, of course, from a mortal perspective.

As for Ornn, who stood silently, unlike his outward indifference, his heart was burning like a furnace.

Not long ago, this kid fell into the sinkhole covered in wounds, claiming to be from the Furnace Village... He had the Furnace Village's thousand-year-old forging, architecture, and brewing techniques in his mind, and Orn could also feel that familiar aura from him.

Of course, not long ago, for Helen, a mere mortal, was more than a decade ago...

However, even so, Ornn did not accept the boy at first.

His first response was: "Don't come near me."

He tried to drive Harren away, but little Harren seemed to enjoy it and would come over every now and then. When he was young, the arduous mountain road always left him covered in wounds, just to bring over a piece of "scrap metal" that Orn considered a waste of materials.

Gradually, Orn stopped chasing him away, but whenever Herren came, His rough and rapid forging style would suddenly slow down.

It was so slow it was almost a waste of time; so slow that even Herren could see every step of the forging process clearly.

He never uttered a single word of guidance.

It seems this fragile mortal has finally created a decent piece of work...

Thousands of years ago, He first nodded to the people of Luxiang for a simple yet exquisitely crafted hand hammer. This time, He once again gave His approval to this inheritor of Luxiang's craftsmanship.

"Great! I knew you'd agree!"

Herren smiled broadly; his hard work over the past few days had finally paid off.

"Well then, old Orn... I think it's time for me to go out and make my own way in the world."

This was one of Herren's ultimate purposes in coming here: to say goodbye to the goat spirit.

Ornn seemed to have been silent for a long time, or perhaps it was just that he was a demigod with almost infinite life, speaking in such a slow and unhurried manner.

Herren waited a long time before Orn finally gave a muffled "hmm".

Herren was already used to it, and just kept rambling on to himself.

"I want to spread my skills and rebuild the heritage of the people of Luxiang... If possible, I want to use my skills to help more people. When the time comes, I will come back to your foothills and rebuild the furnace fire of Luxiang."

Herren looked at the thirsty blood in his hand, his heart filled with determination.

Listening to Herren's rambling, Orn simply looked at him quietly without saying a word, his eyes burning as he stared directly into Herren's eyes, as if trying to see through his heart.

He seemed to sense Heron's passion for forging and his inner obsession. He remained silent for a long time before finally speaking, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Give me."

"Forehead?"

Herren was taken aback, but still obediently picked up the thirsty blood in his hands.

However, Orn did not take it, but instead pointed his huge finger at Herren's waist.

Herren was taken aback for a moment, then realized what was happening, took his hand hammer from his waist, and handed it over.

Orn gently pinched the small hammer between two fingers, as if he might crush it at any moment.

Then, He put down the anvil, placed the small hammer on it, and then took out his own hammer from his waist.

"Step back."

Herren hurriedly retreated dozens of meters before daring to turn around. At this moment, Orn had already slightly opened his mouth, and the muscle lines on his chest flowed with patterns like lava.

Immediately afterwards, a scorching flame, billowing with thick black smoke, erupted from His mouth, instantly engulfing the entire anvil.

Without stopping, He raised the hammer high and, with the power of a demigod capable of splitting mountains and cleaving valleys, slammed it heavily onto the small blacksmith's hammer.

clang--

The crisp sound of steel clashing was deafening, and the firelight was so dazzling that Herren couldn't help but close his eyes, but even so, his eyelids could not block out the scorching flames.

The warm air currents enveloped his body, making him feel cozy, not hot.

When he opened his eyes again, Orn was already holding the small blacksmith's hammer between two fingers and presenting it to Herren.

"be safe."

His dull voice seemed to come from underground, devoid of any emotion.

After a pause, He added.

"I'm done talking."

Herren stared blankly at the blacksmith's hammer that had been completely changed. The surface of the hammer seemed to have many cracks, as if a strange energy was flowing through it.

He slowly reached out and took it. As the hammer handle came into his hand, a surge of warm energy flowed from his palm into Herren's body.