Trial of the stormbarrier

The next few hours were a flurry of activity in Stormbarrier Village. Blacksmiths worked tirelessly at their forges, shaping metal and testing their skills with the Arc-Hammer.

Hugo stood at the center, his arms crossed, watching every blacksmith carefully. He would be the judge of their worth.

As they struck the anvils with the Arc-Hammer, massive vibrations pulsed through the ground, sending shockwaves rippling into the air. The Arcana energy embedded in the hammer was visible—glowing with red and blue streaks, flaring as they attempted to channel it through their techniques.

But not one of them could control it just yet.

One by one, the blacksmiths failed to land a perfect strike. Their swings were wild, their control lacking.

But then—

A young blacksmith, one who had been quiet through most of the trial, stepped up to the Arc-Hammer.

She took a deep breath, gripping the handle with both hands, and focused.

Hugo watched her closely.

Her eyes were steady.

And then, she swung.

At first, the strike seemed imperfect. The hammer hit the anvil with a massive clang, but the shockwave that followed was controlled, the Arcana energy converging around the blow like a pulse.

The crowd went silent.

Hugo's eyes flickered.

The technique wasn't perfect yet, but she had almost done it.

"I can work with this," he muttered under his breath.

The young blacksmith's eyes were wide with exhaustion—but also with hope.

She turned to Hugo, breathing heavily. "Did I pass?"

Hugo studied her for a moment before nodding. "You've made the first step."

As the trial continued, Hugo's gaze wandered over the blacksmiths at work, his eyes scanning the faces, observing their techniques. Yet, something caught his attention—a young boy, no older than twelve, standing at the far side of the village square, his eyes fixed on the trial with an intensity that made Hugo pause.

The boy's hands were clenched into fists, and his jaw was tight, a faint tremor of anger visible in his posture. He watched the blacksmiths with a fierce, almost violent energy—as if he were just waiting for something to snap.

Hugo couldn't help but notice the boy's fiery expression, his eyes burning with a kind of uncontrolled rage, as if he despised the trial, the people around him, and perhaps even Cedric's legacy.

"Who is he?" Hugo thought to himself, but before he could act on the impulse to investigate, his attention was pulled in another direction.

Far in the distance, on a distant hilltop hidden behind a few scattered trees, a figure watched from the shadows.

Xander, the Solstice, stood concealed in the darkness, his black eyes gleaming with amusement as he observed the scene below.

He watched Hugo, watched the village's reactions, and watched the young boy, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noted the rage fueling the child's every movement.

"Cedric, huh?" Xander mused under his breath, his voice low, carrying a hint of wicked amusement. "This should be fun."

He crossed his arms and leaned back against a tree, hidden in the shadows, careful not to make a sound.

Hugo still hadn't noticed him—as always.

Xander's lips curled into a smirk. "The Hero of the Eclipse... What a legacy he left behind. How predictable."

His eyes flickered to the young boy again, and a thought crossed his mind—a dangerous, quiet thought.

"Is that your successor, Cedric?"

The smile on Xander's face grew, cold and calculated.

"This will be interesting."

The hours seemed to drag on for Hugo. He stood still, watching the blacksmiths trying to forge something worthy of the Arc-Hammer, but as time passed, a certain disappointment settled in his chest. None of them seemed to truly embody Cedric's legacy.

Hugo couldn't help but feel the weight of Cedric's absence and the realization that no one in the village was truly capable of carrying that burden. None of them had the focus or the power to wield the Arc-Hammer with the precision it demanded.

His mind wandered back to the young boy he had noticed earlier—the one burning with rage and untapped potential. He, at least, had something the others didn't.

Hugo sighed, breaking the silence, when he felt Darius approach him. The big guy leaned on his Arc-Lance, watching the blacksmiths at work.

"Hey, Boss," Darius called out, his tone casual, but there was a hint of concern in his voice. "You think any of them's really gonna be worthy?"

Hugo didn't even look up. He simply shook his head. "No."

Darius blinked. "What?"

Hugo sighed deeply. "None of them are worthy. Not a single one."

For a moment, there was silence between them. Darius just stared at him, trying to make sense of Hugo's disappointment.

Then—out of nowhere—the young boy, the one who had been watching earlier, stepped forward. His fists were still clenched, his jaw still tight with the same fury that had been burning in his eyes all day.

Hugo narrowed his eyes, sensing something different this time. The boy stepped up to the Arc-Hammer—his hands trembling, but not with fear, with determination.

Hugo watched carefully, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. The villagers were still talking, but their voices started to quiet as they noticed the boy. The hammer's weight seemed to resonate with him in a way that Hugo hadn't seen in anyone else.

The boy's eyes blazed, focused with an intensity that mirrored Hugo's own when he first fought. He grasped the Arc-Hammer with both hands, holding it steady as if the legacy of Stormbarrier had been passed into him.

Then—he swung.

The ground trembled, the shockwave from the strike rippling through the earth. Arcana energy flared with bright red and blue streaks, colliding in an explosive burst.

The force of the blow shattered the ground beneath, sending cracks rippling outward.

The boy's yell echoed through the village.

"STORM BARRIER BLAST!"

A massive burst of Arcana-infused energy shot out from the Arc-Hammer's strike, sending a shockwave through the air, cracking the earth as it spread. Dust and debris flew, and the very air seemed to ripple with the raw power unleashed by that single blow.

Hugo's eyes widened in surprise.

The boy stood, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the Arc-Hammer still glowing with the lingering pulse of the technique.

Hugo was silent for a moment, his mind processing what had just happened. The boy had unleashed near-perfect control of Cedric's technique—the Storm Barrier Blast—and he had done it flawlessly.

The villagers stood in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief, watching the boy who had just shattered the ground with a single swing. Even the blacksmith chief, standing off to the side, was staring in shock.

Then, the boy turned toward Hugo, his eyes still burning with that same rage, but now, there was something else there—pride.

He spoke again, his voice steady. "I'm worthy. I can carry it."

Hugo stood silently for a moment, staring at the devastation the boy's strike had caused. The air was thick with energy from the Storm Barrier Blast, and the ground beneath him still trembled with the aftershock of the blow. The boy, now panting from the effort, held the Arc-Hammer in his hands with surprising control. But there was still something off.

Finally, Hugo spoke, his voice calm but firm. "You've proven you can strike with power, but power alone isn't enough."

The boy glared up at him, his chest heaving with every breath. His rage was still evident in the tight set of his jaw.

"What?" the boy snapped, his fists still clenched around the hammer. "You're not impressed? I did the technique!"

Hugo stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the boy's. "You may have done the technique, but you've only scratched the surface. To be worthy of the Arc-Hammer and Cedric's legacy, you must do more than just wield it."

The boy's eyes flared with anger. "What do you mean, more?"

Hugo's gaze softened slightly, but his tone remained unyielding. "You need to forge with the hammer. You must create something. The hammer is not just for battle. Cedric didn't just strike with it—he crafted with it. He built Stormbarrier with his hands."

The boy's grip on the hammer tightened even further, his knuckles turning white.

"Craft?" he spat, the word almost bitter on his tongue. "I'm not a blacksmith. I'm not interested in making things!"

The boy's rage boiled over, and without a word, he hurled the Arc-Hammer to the ground. The clang echoed through the village as he stormed off, his footsteps heavy with frustration.

Lena and Ethan, having watched the exchange closely, exchanged glances before turning to Hugo.

"You might have pushed him too far, Hugo," Lena said, her tone tinged with concern.

Ethan sighed. "He's always been like this."

Hugo watched the boy disappear into the distance, his shoulders sagging with a mix of regret and concern.

"I had no choice," Hugo muttered to himself. He looked back at the villagers, who were still staring at the aftermath of the boy's display.

Lena stepped closer to Hugo, her voice lowering. "Hugo… you should know who that boy is."

Hugo raised an eyebrow. "Who is he?"

Ethan stepped forward, his tone serious. "His name is Nathan. He's the direct descendant of Cedric. His bloodline runs through Stormbarrier."

Hugo's eyes widened. Nathan—the boy who had just shown such immense power—was Cedric's direct descendant?

"But there's more to the story," Lena added. "Nathan has incredible strength, and yes, he has the potential to master the Arc-Hammer, but..."

Ethan's voice grew softer, "He's a terrible blacksmith."

Hugo frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lena sighed. "Nathan has always struggled with crafting. Despite his raw power, he lacks the control and refinement that Cedric had. It's why he's always had a chip on his shoulder about being a blacksmith."

Ethan nodded. "He wants to prove himself, but his inability to craft makes him frustrated, and that frustration fuels his rage. It's like he's stuck between wanting to be the next great blacksmith but having no idea how to harness his power."

Hugo took a deep breath, thinking. The boy had strength, but he had no discipline—no control. 

"I see," Hugo said, finally understanding. "He doesn't need a weapon. He needs guidance."

Lena nodded. "But if he can't learn to craft, if he can't learn control… he'll never be able to live up to Cedric's legacy."

As the evening sun began to set over Stormbarrier, the village was still buzzing from the trial and the unexpected display of power from Nathan. But Hugo, his mind heavy with thoughts, stepped forward, his voice calm but firm.

"It's getting late," he announced to the gathered villagers. "The trial will be continued tomorrow. Go home, rest, and think about what you've learned."

The villagers, their energy still high from the day's events, slowly began to disperse, murmuring to one another. Some remained silent, still in awe of the boy's technique, others were already planning how they would improve in the morning.

But for Hugo, the day was far from over. Nathan was still on his mind.

Hugo walked through the village, the sounds of the evening fading as he made his way toward the outskirts, where the forest line began to rise. He knew where Nathan had likely gone, his mind still burning with the rage he had displayed earlier.

Soon, he found him—Nathan, standing at the edge of a rocky cliff, staring out into the distant horizon. The boy's posture was rigid, his hands still clenched tightly at his sides, but this time, there was no hammer—no sign of his powerful rage from earlier.

Nathan didn't turn when he heard Hugo approach, his voice low and harsh.

"Go away," Nathan muttered, his eyes fixed on the horizon, refusing to meet Hugo's gaze.

Hugo stood there for a moment, then sighed, stepping forward slowly.

"I don't think you really want me to go away, Nathan," Hugo said quietly. "You've got a lot of rage inside you, but it's not the kind of rage you can let just keep running wild. It'll tear you apart from the inside out."

Nathan's jaw tightened. "I don't need your help. I can't forge anything. I can't even hold this hammer properly." His fists clenched tighter. "Why should I even try? Why do you even care? I'm nothing like Cedric. I'm not good enough."

Hugo's expression softened as he looked at the boy's back, the frustration radiating off him like a storm. He took a deep breath.

"You know… Cedric used to struggle just like you."

Nathan stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Hugo's voice was calm but full of conviction as he continued. "Cedric, the great Stormbarrier founder—he wasn't born with this hammer in his hand. He didn't just wake up one day and know how to wield it. He couldn't even make a sword in the beginning."

Nathan turned slightly, his curiosity piqued despite himself. Hugo smiled softly, the memories of his old friend filling his mind.

"He had rage, just like you. He hated his weaknesses, hated the fact that he couldn't craft like the others. But he didn't just give up. He didn't let his anger control him. He learned to focus his mind. He learned to forge not just weapons, but his own strength."

Nathan shifted on his feet, still uncertain, but Hugo wasn't finished.

"You think Cedric's success came from pure power? No. He had years of struggle—times when his anger would flare, when his strikes would miss their mark. When his heart would burn with rage because he wasn't good enough. He almost gave up more times than I can count."

Nathan's eyes softened slightly, the edge of his anger dulled by the weight of Hugo's words.

Hugo continued, his voice quieter now, almost to himself. "I used to be just like that. I had a lot of struggles when I first started learning to use Cosmos. There were times when I couldn't even perform the most basic techniques. My hands would shake, I would get frustrated, and all I wanted to do was give up. I thought—if I can't control this power, how can I be worthy of it?"

Nathan looked at Hugo now, his anger fading as the words sank in. Hugo's expression softened even more.

"But I didn't give up. Because I had to learn. And I had to trust that my struggles were part of my growth. That's how I learned to control the sword, and that's how Cedric learned to wield the hammer."

Nathan's fists, though still tight, relaxed slightly. His voice was softer, more unsure now. "So… what am I supposed to do?"

Hugo stepped closer, his tone more grounded. "You're not just strong, Nathan. You're more than that. You've got Cedric's bloodline, yes, but you also have the chance to create your own path. You can't be him. You have to be you. And that's more than enough."

Hugo paused, then added, "But you have to forge something. You can't keep letting your rage drive you. It'll blind you."

Nathan stared down at the ground for a long moment, thinking. Finally, he nodded, slowly.

"I'll try."

Hugo smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "That's all anyone can do."