Chương 21: Weapon
"It's fini-shed..."
The blacksmith's voice trembled with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation as he declared the completion of his masterpiece. He carefully lifted the newly forged weapon from the anvil, cradling it in his calloused hands. The blade shimmered in the dim light, reflecting the flickering flames of the forge.
With great care, he approached the waiting monstrous figure, his eyes meeting mine. The blacksmith extended the weapon towards me, his trembling hands making me sigh.
'I also don't want to do this, man...'
As I reached out to accept the weapon, a surge of anticipation coursed through my veins. It was my first real weapon!
The hilt of the weapon found its place in my grasp, fitting perfectly as if it had been designed specifically for me. Its weight was substantial, yet balanced.
The blade was a little rough around the edges, but I didn't bother to complain. The blacksmith probably did this on purpose.
"..."
I held the weapon aloft, its form catching the glimmers of the forge's fire.
I ran a finger along the blade's edge, feeling the keenness that would soon rend the flesh of a demon.
A shiver of excitement coursed through me, mingling with a tinge of unease. The blacksmith's creation had exceeded my expectations, but will I be able to wield it effectively?
Grrr...
Shaking my head, I let out a low growl, before turning back to the man, who was quietly observing me from the corner of the forge.
"I ne...ed a sh-eath..."
Rolling my inhuman tongue, I managed to convey my message to the blacksmith in a guttural voice.
To be honest, I was very surprised that he was even able to work after hearing me speak.
One has to know that Wendigo can not speak...
Clank...
After hearing my command, the man instantly sprang into action. Despite his fear, he understood the gravity of the situation and the urgency of fulfilling my request. With determined strides, he moved towards a cluttered workbench, his eyes scanning the array of tools and materials that lay before him.
With practiced hands, the blacksmith selected a piece of sturdy leather, worn but still serviceable. He measured and cut the material, his movements swift and sure. He worked diligently, his focus unbroken despite the weight of the situation that hung in the air.
Using a fine thread and a needle, the blacksmith meticulously stitched the leather, forming a sheath that would protect the blade. His fingers moved deftly, each stitch a testament to his skill and experience. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of needle-piercing leather, a soothing counterpoint to the tension that lingered in the forge.
After some time, the blacksmith tied off the final stitch, completing the sheath. He inspected his work, his eyes flickering with a mix of weariness and a glimmer of pride. With cautious reverence, he approached me, extending the finished sheath towards my awaiting hand.
"..."
I carefully sheathed the weapon, the leather embracing the blade with a snug fit.
The blacksmith exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding, his tension slowly dissipating.
"G-ood wo..rk..."
Glancing at the blacksmith, I could see guilt mingling in his eyes. He was probably thinking about how his creation would be used.
However, there was no need for him to worry...
Whoosh...
I used my backhand, hitting the blacksmith straight in the template and knocking him unconscious on the floor.
Thud...
Looking at his limp body, I carefully used my claws to pick him up without making any cuts to his skin and I gently laid him down on a nearby bench, ensuring that he was comfortable.
Although right now I might be a monster and my original form is a demon, I'm also a human being.
Creak...
Carefully, stepping out of the forge, I closed the door behind me, leaving behind the tools and materials that had played a role in our brief collaboration.
The night air was crisp, carrying with it a sense of anticipation and mystery. As I ventured further into the heart of the village, my eyes caught sight of a small stone church nestled amidst the surrounding houses.
'It's a perfect venture point...'
Its weathered exterior stood as a testament to the passage of time, its walls worn by years of wind and rain. The quaint structure seemed almost out of place, surrounded by the deep dark night that seemed to swirl around it. Yet, it was a perfect watchtower.
Tap... Tap...
Quickly, I approached the church, my steps careful and deliberate.
Clank...
The old iron lock gave away in one quick swipe of my claws and the wooden doors creaked as I pushed them open, revealing a dimly lit interior. The scent of ancient wood and faded incense filled the air, wrapping me in a comforting embrace.
I took a moment to absorb the serenity that emanated from within the church's walls. The flickering candles cast soft, dancing shadows, illuminating the portraits and sculptures that adorned the space.
"..."
My eyes were drawn to a narrow staircase tucked away in a corner, leading upwards toward the bell tower. It was an invitation, a beckoning towards a higher vantage point. Without hesitation, I ascended the steps, each one creaking beneath my weight.
As I reached the top, my gaze swept across the village that stretched out before me. The moon cast its gentle glow, revealing the intricate details of the houses, the winding paths, and the lives that unfolded beneath. From this elevated perch, I could observe the ebb and flow of the villagers' existence, their daily routines woven into the tapestry of the night.
Perched on the ledge of the bell tower, I could see everything...
Even the small figure of a lone individual swinging his sword near the birch tree in the distance.
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