theonionjunktion

Every day for six years straight, from the time he was twelve, Darius Omen hit an anvil with a hammer ten thousand times a day without stopping. He did not know the reason why he needed to, all he knew was that he had to. Little did he know that hit by hit, strike by strike, his originally meek body was being refined into something that had never been seen before in the history of mankind.

In the war against spirits, mankind had little to be proud of. Yet one day a young man entered the battlefield. He dazzled millions and killed even more, all with merely a rusty old hammer than no one could hold or fathom.

Infallible Oathbreaker

"Boy, you don't understand. You were supposed to fall unconscious at some point. I have never heard of a human staying awake for this long. That's some freaky shit right there."

Darius was not happy and began to try and walk away. That's when he finally understood why the old man would say he would thank him!

"This! What the heck is this old man!"

The elder walked up with a smug grin and said, "That was a dantian made from the corpse of a Soul Force Flamengo Spirit. It has a rather odd trait where it immediately bonds with the Spirit-smith smithing it unless the smith has bonded with one before!"

This was an incredible gift! The abilities he got from this fusion were superb. Darius thought about what the old man just said. 'Am I really some sort of prodigy?'

Darius doubted it, there must be an explanation for this. Darius was confident that he was born an ordinary boy, and he was right.

Mandrils