Timeless Assassin

"Agh? Seventh Elder! It's been a while…." Argo said as he put his bottle of liquor aside, his face brightening up at the arrival of the unexpected guest.

"What brings you to my humble forge today?" he said as he wiped his hands on a soot-stained cloth, the corners of his mouth curling into a toothy grin.

Chaosbringer stepped closer, his boots echoing faintly against the stone floor as the heat from the forge wrapped around him like a thick blanket. "It's good to see you again, Master Argo," he said as his tone softened with genuine respect. "I wish this were a casual visit, but I come bearing news of great importance."

Argo's brows lifted slightly, the humor in his eyes dimming as he sensed the gravity in Chaosbringer's voice. "News of great importance, you say?" he said as he crossed his arms, leaning slightly on the anvil beside him. "Well, out with it then, lad. You've never been one for small talk."

Chaosbringer hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to the molten light spilling from the furnace before returning to the old smith. "It's about the Great God Soron," he said as his voice dropped lower, calm yet reverent. "He has returned."

For a long moment, the forge went silent. Even the hiss of molten ore seemed to fade as Argo's expression froze in disbelief.

"Is it true?" Argo said as his eyes widened, the blueprint sheet in his hand lowering slowly until it touched the ground. "Is Lord Soron truly back?"

"It's true," Chaosbringer said as he nodded firmly, his gaze steady.

"The Great God has returned to Ixtal and liberated it from Righteous Scum.

His outrage knows no bounds now that he's discovered what's happened to the Cult in his absence, however, while he's roaring for battle, he doesn't seem to have a weapon that's worthy enough to channel his power.

He has many blades made by some of the Cult's best Blacksmiths across history, however, none of them can injure fellow Gods.

That however, can change if someone forges a blade from this new alloy he's procured…..

However, only the best Blacksmiths in the universe can process something so complex."

He implied, as his words hung in the air like thunder before Argo finally let out a shaky breath, his lips parting in awe.

"By the Heavens…" he said as a tear rolled down his soot-streaked cheek. "After all these years… the Great God returns to us…. Hahahaha!"

He laughed then, a deep, guttural laugh that carried both disbelief and unrestrained joy. "Well, of course I'll do it!" he said as he tossed the blueprint aside and straightened his back with renewed energy.

"You don't need to ask me twice! All this talk of retirement never sat right with me anyway."

He said as he reached for his liquor bottle and took one final swig before setting it aside with a sharp clink.

*Clink*

"The doctors tell me I haven't got it in me anymore, but I say to hell with them!

I was born for the forge, not for sitting idle counting the years go by!"

He said as his voice rose, full of defiance.

"EMMOND! BRING ME MY HAMMER!"

He said, as his apprentice gasped before turning and rushing towards the storage shelf, as tears of joy streaked down his face.

*Clink*

*Crash*

Breaking the glass container that stored the old master's hammer, Emmond retrieved it at once and handed it to Argo, who held it like it was the most precious thing in the universe.

"Agh…. I feel a couple decades younger already!"

He said, as his expression brightened instantly with his hammer in hand, its familiar weight bringing with it a lifetime of muscle reflexes.

"If the Great God Soron needs a weapon, then I'll forge him one. I'll muster whatever strength these old bones have left to create a blade worthy of carrying the hopes and dreams of our people into battle!" he said as he raised his hammer slightly, the firelight reflecting in his eyes like molten gold.

"A blade forged from the fury of our spirits," he said as he struck the air lightly, the sound echoing through the forge. "A blade that will bring redemption to us all."

Chaosbringer's lips curved into a smile as relief washed over him, the burden in his chest finally lifting. "Thank you, Supreme Master," he said as he bowed his head deeply.

"You honor both the Great God and the Cult with your resolve.

Please take a few days to gather your apprentices and supplies….

But once you're ready, please depart for Ixtal immediately."

He said, as Argo nodded firmly, his shoulders squaring as the firelight danced across his face.

"Understood, Seventh Elder,"

"I'll forge this blade to perfection, even if it's the last thing I do….."

He promised, as Chaosbringer gave him a firm handshake before turning to leave.

—--------------

(Meanwhile, The Eternal Garden, Veyr's POV)

Veyr waited for Raymond, his eyes unfocused as he sat in silence, lost in thought.

He had been doing this often lately—staring blankly at the sky, letting time slip away as the same question circled in his mind like a curse.

Was he doing the right thing?

The thought just wouldn't leave him, as no matter how he tried to justify it, a part of him knew that teaching those forbidden techniques to Raymond was dangerous.

Each move he revealed was a piece of the Cult's soul, a fragment of their legacy handed to the very man who sought to destroy everything the Cult stood for.

"Three techniques… three already, have I given him much more than I should?" he muttered, as he doubted whether he was on the right path?

"And still, I'm stuck here. Still waiting…. Still playing Raymond's game like a fool."

He said with disbelief, as although he wanted to believe in Raymond's promises of freedom, of escape, of redemption….

Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the more it all sounded like manipulation and carefully crafted lies meant to keep him cooperating.

"No…. Enough is enough!"

He said, as he clenched his fists and hardened his resolve.

"I need proof…. If he really has a way out of this place, then he needs to show me that it can be done.

So, for my next reward, I'll ask him to take me out of the Garden. Even if it's only for a few minutes."

He muttered to himself, his voice firm.

"As only then will I teach him the fourth move."