Side Story: The soulsmith Falk (Patreon)

Falk’s work was never finished.

Back before he’d transcended the level of a mortal, back when he’d only worried about completing his goal and hadn’t given much thought to just what rising to the third tier would even mean for him, he'd thought that would be it. That if he ever achieved what he wanted he could enjoy the pure satisfaction that came from such things with no concerns about what that would mean next.

Of course, that wasn't entirely his fault. When he’d been young enough and had first started walking his path, the time gods hadn’t even been able to give them an estimate for when the invasion would begin, how was he supposed to know that he’d become the world’s soul mage in the middle of it?

Same for when they’d first been given their range, that broad span of years where anything might show up. When he’d first heard it, it had sounded like plenty of time, an age to finish and enjoy whatever level of power he could manage after it was done before the planet was going to crumble under the weight of it all.

But then he hadn’t pulled it off until after the first wave itself, a time he should have known would mean nothing but work for him but hadn’t been able to put together until then because of everything else going on around him.

He’d been worrying about the war and his work, then about his weapon construction and Sonya, by the time he’d actually reached his goal, there had been too much in his head to consider for him to worry about what that meant for what was coming next, but now that he was there, the responsibility that came with his level of skill couldn’t be avoided.

When most people thought about the third-tier skill holders, they’d be thinking of the power and authority that came with it, of which there was plenty. Not just the power of his skill, the limits of which he was still slowly learning, but international power too.

Falk was going to become a true god one day and that meant something to many. If he wanted, he could have words with rulers or kings to try and direct their policies and they’d be almost certain to listen to him so long as it didn’t conflict with the will of their gods. If he wanted resources it was as simple as asking and if he wanted people to move for him he could contact the adventurer’s guild and they’d be sure to give in and that was only if he didn’t want to go to some nation to ask instead.

It had been an aspect of his growth he hadn’t properly considered until after, but it had its trade-off too. His power was particularly useful given the need to arm the world, and as such he had expectations placed on him beyond just the smithing he was used to, filling his days and leaving him little in the way of downtime, making him treasure what little he’d get.

That little had been going to Sonya usually after their relationship had changed, but as he stood alone in his shop, the boy off doing who knew what and his obligations still being hours off, he got to take the time to do something solely for him. Picking up his hammer, he got to work to see exactly how good of a sword he could make.

Since it was a weapon that he had endless experience producing and could be placed into the hands of any great warrior to give what benefits it could, it was good enough for a test of his skills as he got to work, feeling the metal in a way he never had before, his senses honed in on it as he began, striking it with his hammer and causing subtler manipulations with his magic, shaping a tool and feeling it come together.

If he was just aiming to make something at the lower end of legendary, he could have created a blade that would hold enchantments that good in a matter of moments with his current skill, but he wanted to go past that.

He’d once told the boy that practically nobody could make an unenchanted item that would break into ultra-rare, but that was his goal, forging a weapon that didn’t have a speck of mana bound to it yet would stand up to otherwise outrageous forces of power placed against it, while creating an edge that was by all accounts far too strong for how delicate it looked. 

He wouldn’t say it would never dull as he formed its shape, he wasn’t that cocky, but even without anything to strengthen it he knew it would be years before it did, with the length of time only going to grow when he eventually applied his power.

But not yet. The second it was done he looked it over, feeling the entire thing with all of his senses as his skill told him what he’d already known. That simple hunk of metal with nothing more than a few alchemic enhancers in it had achieved a level most smiths couldn’t manage, even with the best materials and a range of enchantments. A weapon that was otherwise powerless save for the strength of its blade that had made it to ultra-rare.

He took a moment to admire it, smiling despite himself as he appreciated the feeling of how far he’d come. So much of what he’d made recently was for the world and the gods, producing his growth bracelets for the awakened across the planet and setting up a whole other project too, but that was solely for him, something he made to see how far he could go and feeling in no way lacking.

It even made him question if he could have done as much before he’d gotten to that point too. Even at his ninth level when he’d still only been a contender, he’d dismissed the idea of achieving it out of hand. It wasn't as if he wouldn’t always do his best with each thing he made but it did make him wonder if dismissing what he might have achieved out of hand had limited him. Perhaps if he’d made it a goal and managed it then he would have achieved his dream sooner, maybe it would even have been what it took to push him over the edge.

In the end, he could only shake his head. What might have been didn’t matter, what did was what he could do now and feeling excited to see just how far that might go, he began enchanting, feeling that fine working of mana go down despite the strain it was putting on him.

His student’s enchanting system was a work of art, something any awakened enchanter should strive to put to use, but with a far more normal mind in his head, it wasn’t easy. Despite the results it would give, everything about it was a strain and even then he knew he wasn’t using it to its full potential.

But at the very least he had practice with it. After those months building the gate weapon to get his awakening he’d gotten better at handling a bit, and after claiming his soul smithing it had gotten easier too. The strain he was feeling only came from pushing himself farther to accommodate his growth, leaving him back to suffer until it was done, his masterpiece complete.

High legendary, a ranking he’d never been able to reach before he’d awakened now sat in his hands, with the dense weaves of mana looking scary even with just his own mana sense. It hadn’t been quick or easy, but he’d just made a weapon of war that could devastate any battlefield it was used on, something that would kill swaths with a single swing thanks to the power that was on it, with the tool able to cut far beyond its reach that would bisect flesh and bone with ease, with nothing that managed to get away with just a cut if they were on the edge of the range destined for a long life either. Any attack would destroy a target's vitality in a way that wouldn’t leave room for survivors.

Holding it like that brought to mind visions of how it was going to be used, whoever got their hands on it was sure to accomplish great things on the battlefield, but a small part of him couldn’t help thinking about what would happen to it beyond that.

Assuming they won in the end, it would still exist. Would something he made one day be used to harm the others who shared the planet with them? It was something he knew might happen but the fact that he could imagine a future where the weapons he made for the world might be used for fights between the people living on it wasn’t a pretty one, even if he decided that it didn’t really matter in the end. That was the future, he was creating things for the present.

Alright, enough musin’ on nonsense. Time to go.

With his small project done he went over to the mini-gate and stepped through, doing his best not to be caught by Pelenia, lest she try to trap him in conversation and promises as he moved to the main gate network to his new workstation, being greeted by those serving under him as he did.

“Soulsmith.”

“Soulsmith.”

“Soulsmith.”

It went on and on, each person bowing when they noticed his presence as he did his best to wave them away, eventually losing his patience.

“ENOUGH. We only got so much time left so stop with the pointless crap and get back to work already. The goal is to have this done with some time to spare before the second wave and that’s not happening if you lot stop every time I enter the building, now back to work!”

They moved with his orders, letting Falk get to his own work, given to him by the gods, which he wanted finished as soon as possible. In a time when whether he’d even be around after the next wave was up in the air, he didn’t want to be wasting time there when he should have been focusing on the people that mattered, and with that motivation, he placed his hand on the tool everyone around him had been building and got to enchanting.

Author's note

This might be one I go back to one day. There's a couple ways I phrased things that I'm not positive I like but after reading and tweeking and rereading for almost a week without even really being sure what was giving me issues I had to stop and say it's done for now. Maybe If I give it a month and come back fresh I'll have a better time trying to figure out what bits of wording just didn't do it for me.

Man, what a negative author's note, huh? Don't want to be a downer, if I hated it I would have tried writing something else for you all, the feeling of it just not quite falling into place is just something to try to improve on for this whole writing thing, but I hope you guys enjoyed and have a good day