[LSB] Chapter 105: Forgotten

The hall was silent, the only sound being the whispered breaths of those present, barely stirring the dry air. Despite being at the top of the Tower of Forge, there was no actual forge here, and the three spirit flames burning in the hall gave off no heat. And yet, with each passing moment, the air felt heavier—every breath becoming just a little harder to take.

How could it not, when the guild master had been kneeling on the floor in front of Julian for an entire minute now?

It didn’t help at all that Julian also wasn’t saying anything.

He stood there silently, his gaze fixed on the so-called Growing Flame, not sparing Negan a glance. This was the sixth spirit he had encountered—and with each one, his appreciation deepened. No two were alike, each possessing a presence entirely distinct from the others.

The Spirit of the Growing Flame and the Spirit of Eternal Flame shared a quiet resemblance, however. Their essence, though distinct, carried echoes of each other’s nature. And after a few lingering moments of silence, Julian finally made a sound.

“Hmm.” He hummed as he approached the Growing Flame, still completely ignoring Negan. He hovered his hand above the wood, letting the tiny hint of smoke hit his palm so he could feel it better.

“It’s old… and dying,” he whispered. It felt very much the same as the Eternal Flame when he first encountered it in the hidden dungeon, the only difference was that the hum was even weaker with the wood in front of him.

No. Perhaps not necessarily weaker, as the spirit of the Growing Flame was more alive than the Avatar of Helionis. Maybe it was better to say… it was giving up.

 Julian sighed as he turned around, finally turning his shoulder toward Negan, who was standing up from the floor.

“Do you truly want to wake him up?” Julian asked, “I’ve heard the spirit’s hum, and it’s tired.”

A hint of a smile crawled on Negan’s face as he heard that, a glint in his eyes dancing when he heard his words.

How many?

How many blacksmiths have come and gone through the Tower of Forge that couldn’t even hear a single whisper from the Growing Wood?

“Please…” Negan lowered his head again, a gesture unbefitting of his status. The other blacksmiths who were there wanted to stop him from posturing to a man who hadn’t even been granted the license of a blacksmith, but vice guild master Frederick stopped them.

Frederick knew exactly what Julian was capable of, he had witnessed it firsthand. And he knew.

He knew that the man standing in front of them was the best blacksmith in the tower right now, by a wide margin.

“Please…” Negan repeated his words as he stood beside Julian, “...Listen to him again.”

“If you want me to listen to it closely, then you’d have to tell your men to leave. I’m not familiar with the sound they make. You can stay, but you have to stand near the wall.”

Negan’s apprentices were on the verge of protesting again, ready to challenge Julian’s audacity—but before they could utter a word, Frederick silenced them once more. Without another glance, he turned and became the first to leave the spirit hall.

The apprentices exchanged uncertain glances, torn between following Frederick or remaining by their master's side. But as they watched Negan silently make his way toward the wall, they hesitated no longer. With no other choice, they heeded Julian’s words and descended to the lower floor.

As for Juliet and Cyrus, they also walked toward the wall, with Cyrus making sure he was getting the best angle of what Julian was about to do.

Even the other flame spirits inside the hall moved—their flames slightly fading as they did not want to disturb Julian at all even though he was doing nothing yet.

He was just once again standing there, staring at the smoking wood. Unbeknownst to everyone, even the other spirits, he was actually talking to the Avatar of Searadyn.

[You are right, Master. He is old, but not as ancient as the dead avatar spirit of Helionis.]

Then, is there a way to wake him up? No, maybe I should ask whether or not we should even wake him up.

[I am truly blessed to have a master like you, Master. But avatars are not people—we do not live and die the same way you do. We merely exist when we are needed by the world, and slowly die when we are forgotten.]

Forgotten? Can that be said to this avatar?

Julian focused his eyes on the pedestal the wood was resting on. It was clean, with not even a single hint of dust or ash on it, and even the very wood itself was immaculate. It was most probably being cleaned daily, perhaps more than. Julian waited for the Avatar of Searadyn to answer, but it was MEGAN who spoke instead.

[Julian…] She whispered, her words slightly hindered and paused, [There is a difference between being forgotten and being neglected. The fire could have been taken care of every day. No one threw it away, and no one discarded it. They wiped the pedestal every day and took care of it. But never once have they asked… why? Why is it here? What’s it even for? Why… why are we even taking care of it?]

But isn’t that a good thing? To be taken care of without question?

[Is it?]

The Avatar of Searadyn remained quiet as the two spoke, but from the way she slightly hummed, it would seem she understood what MEGAN meant by her words.

[It is up to you whether you want to wake the spirit up, Master.] She whispered in between their conversation, [It would be easy with us and Silvie. Since Silvie carries the will of the Eternal Flame, she has within her limitless energy—but she won’t be able to control it due to her age. That is where I will step in. Summon us, we will do the rest for you. I must warn you, however, that we will be in our true forms and will consume a lot of your MP.]

Julian hummed as he thought of what to do. He stared at the wood again for a few seconds before turning to look at Negan—and upon seeing his face and hearing his breath, Julian immediately knew the answer.

Julian sighed, and then with another breath he whispered, “The two of you, come out.”

The temperature within the hall turned heavy, and the three flame spirits resting there started to dance. The walls they had been painting with their colors, now being showered by a white-orange light and a streak of blue that contained it, preventing it from swallowing everyone within the hall whole.

Despite the violent chaos that engulfed the hall, the heat remained surprisingly bearable. Not overpowering at all.

“This…” Juliet gently rubbed her arms as she felt a certain warmth embracing her. No. It wasn’t really warm at all—it felt like something was there, comforting her. Like she was deep in the depths of the ocean, but not drowning or being crushed by its pressure.

All she could feel was the embrace.

Even the people outside the tower could see the light, every blacksmith within the city stopped what they were doing to relish the sight.

This is the true form of the flame spirits—capable of completely changing the very nature of the world itself.

But while everyone else felt the comfort of their embrace, Julian could feel his energy being directly sucked away from him. He didn’t say anything at all, only hiding his hands inside his pocket to pull out a vial from his Shadow Vault so he could restore his MP whenever needed.

“Do it.”

And with those words whispering from his mouth, the gentle flames that surrounded the hall compressed toward him, wrapping him and the pedestal in a ball of flames. And as the Avatar of Searadyn said, he didn’t need to do anything at all but watch.

Watch as Silvie’s flames weaved through the wood, piercing through it and cradling it. Soon, cracks spread across the wood’s surface, and the steady stream of smoke began to thin, dissipating into the air. Then, from within those fractures, a green flame flickered to life, emerging with a quiet whisper.

A second.

A minute.

An hour passed, perhaps?

Or perhaps it didn’t matter at all. Julian had already drank several vials of mana potions, but finally, right when he was about to open another one… the wood opened up, blossoming like a flower. No, not like a flower, but a flower truly.

It blossomed, and within it was the Avatar of Phus, the spirit of the Growing Flame. Unlike traditional fire, he burned with a verdant glow, his form resembling flickering leaves caught in an eternal dance. The Avatar of Phus seemed confused at first, but after a while, he looked up at Julian and bowed his head.

“I greet you, Master,” he said. His voice, deep and aged, “I have thought the Master of Shadows already dead, and here lies one who had been chosen by him. What can I possibly offer for one who has been blessed by the Master of All?”

“You know about the Master of Shadows?” Julian asked, “What can you tell me about him?”

“I am afraid that if you do not know, then I am not worthy of letting you know. The only thing I could offer you now is my allegiance and to be by your side, Master.”

“Hmm.”

“But I know this would be presumptuous of me—before I join you, may I ask if you know where my previous master is? Is he still alive? And if so, how is he? This would be my only request.”

“You should ask him yourself.” Julian raised his hand, causing the ball of flames surrounding him to wither away and swim back inside him. He drank the vial in his hand before stepping to the side, as soon as he did so, an aged gasp escaped from Negan’s mouth.

“You… Old friend,” Negan whispered as his feet walked toward the Avatar of Phus. And for the first time, since Julian met him earlier, Negan slowed down, “I… am glad to see you again before I perished.”

The Avatar of Phus also flew away from the pedestal he had been resting on for years to approach Negan, “Master,” he whispered as he rested his tiny head onto Negan’s cheek, “You have years left in you. Very much like I, too stubborn to die.”

“Heh…” Negan smiled, and the wrinkles on his face became even more obvious. And yet, there was a sense of youth in his eyes that felt like it was living decades into the past. Reliving a memory, and living it again, “I have found you a new master. One, I believe, much more skilled than I am.”

Negan turned to face Julian, “An adventurer that came from nowhere, but soon I am sure would sweep the lands of Artemia with his greatness.”

The Avatar of Phus also looked at Julian and then looked behind him as if he was looking at something colossal.

“No,” the avatar spirit said, “You do not know what you have found, Master.” 

“You do not need to call me Master anymore.”

“Then I shall call you as such one final time, Master.”

“We had our time and fun. Now it is time for you to go to someone who would use your—”

And before Negan could finish his words, he stopped as he saw Julian casually heading to the stairs without a word.

“Where are you going, Master Julian!?” Negan rushed toward him.

“Back to the lobby,” Julian hummed, “I’ll wait for my license there.”

“I see,” Negan let out a long and deep sigh as he looked at the spirit floating behind him, “Then I believe this is goodbye, old friend. But I wish this would not be the last time we would speak.”

“Then—”

Before the Avatar of Phus could say anything, Julian once again cut them off.

“No,” he said, “There’s no reason for the two of you to say goodbye, the Avatar of Phus won’t be joining me.”

“Huh?”

“I was told once that a spirit chooses its master…” Julian whispered as he looked at the back of his hand, staring at the Mark of Searadyn, “...I might have been the one to wake the Avatar of Phus back, but I’m not the master it chose. It’s you.”

Julian looked at Negan and smiled, “I believe it’s still you.”

Cyrus and Juliet, who were watching from the side, sniffled as they wiped their tears when they heard Julian’s words. Juliet, even more so.

Something about Julian’s words pierced her heart.

“You might love someone… but it doesn’t mean they should belong to you,” she whispered to herself as she looked at Julian.

Negan stared at Julian’s face to see if he was serious, and when he did not budge at all, Negan looked at the Avatar of Phus.

“Is… this true?” He asked.

The Avatar of Phus also looked at Julian, and when he saw the smile on his face, the spirit nodded to Negan.

“It would seem that we have years left to spend, Master,” he said.

“Oh…” Negan gasped, his knees once again falling to the floor as he kneeled in front of Julian, “...Thank you. Thank you! The Tower of Forge owes you a huge debt, Master Julian.”

“I only need my license,” Julian sighed, “And the Avatar of Phus will be joining me once you’re dead, which would be a few years from now since you’re already old and dying too.”

“That…” Negan didn’t know what to say after that. And so, he only stood up and smiled and asked, “Would you like to be the new guild master of the Blacksmith Guild once I’m gone?”

And of course, Julian did not even answer and just walked away.

He was in Artemia. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck inside a tower doing business instead of actually creating. Unlike the Avatar of Phus, unlike Erin… he doesn’t want to be stuck in a loop again.

Adventure was out there waiting for him, materials wanting to be forged into something else.

“I’m a blacksmith.” Julian finally spoke as he looked back, “And I was told the Gnarfolks are naturally better at forging than us, I want to know if that’s true. Because all I want now is to forge a weapon better than everything else, to be the best.”

Negan only stared at Julian’s back as he disappeared down the stairs. And when he could no longer hear his steps and the steps of his friends, he whispered,

“But Master Julian… you already are the best.”

[LAST CHAPTER] <-----> [NEXT CHAPTER]

AUTHOR NOTES

Ei... What.