“Wait...I will do this myself.” interjected Mors as he stepped in front of the ice mage approaching the forge.

Slightly offended the mage turned toward the master smith who was standing off to the side with folded arms shrugging helplessly.

Huffing in frustration the mage took a few steps back and snapped a retort “If you want to ruin your weapon, knock yourself out runt, knock yoursellllfff out.”

Before the mage had even finished his sentence Mors was already walking towards the furnace with a look of extreme determination on his face.

“You sure you want to let him do this.” whispered Rock.

“It's his choice.” replied Verz with a defeated sigh.

“Make sure you cool it as fast as you can boy!” sternly instructed the master smith. “If you don't it's going to break the moment it meets a decent weapon and you're gonna end up dead.”

Although Verz had said it was his choice and decided not to interfere, she was extremely concerned. His magic attribute was darkness and although she had heard of it causing the area to cool when powerful spells were used she didn't know of any that would be powerful enough for the task at hand unless he was planning to destroy half the forge.

-”If he messes up I guess I can help him prepare another one after the trial and if it looks like he is about to do something that will destroy the place or harm someone, I’ll step in. ” Verz

Mors was in his own world as he ran though the final preparations completely ignoring everything going on around him.

-”Looks like it's all or nothing. If this doesn't work then I guess I’ll be stuck with regular weapon for a while.” [Mors]

Out of the corner of his eye Mors spotted another furnace that was being used to create farm equipment and decided to run a quick test. Deeply concentrating, he focused his mind while mentally uttering some magical incantations. This caused the fire inside the furnace to flicker and reduce in size by at least half, confusing the smith that was working on the tools as he began to check for a fault in his equipment.

Since waking up from the void Mors had been able to sense every flame and heat source in a 10-meter radius and had a weird feeling that he could control them if he wanted to.

Assuming this was because he had gained his second magical attribute and with his new ‘old’ memories of things like physics and the laws of nature, his control over darkness and now the ability to manipulate flames and temperature he was pretty sure he could create an endothermic reaction that would drastically cool the immediate area at a much faster rate than relying on mana alone.

From everything he had heard, the faster you cooled Astorneth the stronger and more durable it became so he wasn't content to leave it to an unknown person even if they were an ice mage.

With his knowledge, all he needed to do was set up the right environment and then trigger the chemical process. Of course, he had never tried any of this before and the chances of failure were high but if he wanted to be truly free, he had to gain enough strength to stand at the top of this world, and that wasn't for the faint of heart.

-“Fortune favours the bold” [Mors]

Having had little to no practice with his new ability, Mors decided that he needed to ‘crack the walnut with a sledgehammer’ and use his full, unrestrained power.

Taking a deep breath he placed his right hand on the side of the large black mould and was temporarily shocked to find that he felt a warm and pleasant sensation instead of intense burning he expected. Brushing all unnecessary thoughts from his mind he manipulated the dark and fire elements in the surroundings and began absorb as much energy as possible.

Instantly all flames in the room sputtered before dieing out and causing the moonstones embedded in the ceiling to be the only source of light. The faint, cold blue light illuminated the rapidly forming ice as it raced outwards from where Mors’ hand and the mould met.

The ice showed no signs of slowing as it completely encompassed the mould and moved onto the furnace. With slight creaking and cracking sounds it soon covered the remainder of the furnace and spread over the stone floor causing a light mist to rise from the sudden temperature change.

The sudden loss of the bright lights in the forge caused everyone to be temporarily blinded. They still felt the temperature drop drastically and immediately retreated a couple of steps away.

The fastest to react, as well as the ones who retreated furthest were the twins as they hissed in annoyance at where they believed Mors to be standing. As they were cold blooded, a rapid fall in temperature was extremely dangerous to them.

As sudden as they went out, the fires from the furnaces towards the edges rekindled bringing the warm, orange light back to the room that once again blinded everyone from the sudden change and resulted in everyone blinking a few times to readjust their eyes.

A bead of sweat run down Mors’ face in sharp contrast to the field of ice he was currently standing in. The ice mage shattered the surreal silence that had descended on the forge.

“Impossible” stuttered the ice mage as he completely misunderstood the origins of Mors’ ability.

He was known as one of the best ice casters in the Federation and considered himself to be almost peerless however he felt the boy in front of him was clearly at a completely different level. -”His affinity with ice is unbelievable, I must have him as an apprentice.”

While everyone was still trying to compose themselves and make sense from the bizarre events, Mors suddenly raised his hand before slamming it into the cold mould causing it to shatter and grasping hold of his new weapon.

A pitch black staff about two and a bit meters long, with a moon crescent blade at the top and a vicious looking spike at the bottom was slowly raised into the air by Mors with a single hand.

The top of the crescent blade was razor sharp and looked like it could cut steel while the underneath had jagged, inwards facing curved teeth that would put most, if not all monsters to shame. At each end of the blade, what would be considered the tip if it wasn't symmetrical was a slightly extended, needle-like point. At the base of the staff was a hefty looking spike with rippled, tiny blades protruding downwards.