Chapter 50 - The Gift

That morning, after breakfast, the miners loaded two full wagons with the purple stones. Each piece faintly glowed. The same glow as those used in the drill.

Ren stood quietly, watching as they finished. His eyes drifted over the stones piled high, checking them one last time.

Same color. Same glow. Same build.

It's enough, he thought.

He turned to the miners.

"We're done mining these stones," Ren said, voice calm. "You can head back to the village or just far enough from this mountain. I have something to do here."

Fera set down her plate, "What do you mean, Mister Ren?"

Ren hesitated only a moment.

"Yesterday, at the beach... I found something. Stones that hold magic. I think they're a key. A key to something hidden inside this mountain."

Fera frowned, "So?"

"There must be some great power in here. Even the animals and insects avoid this place. If I use the stone and that power wakes... I don't want to imagine what could happen next."

One of the miners spoke up.

"Then come back with us, sir. Leave that power where it is."

Another joined him.

"Yeah. I agree."

The others nodded, faces tense.

Ren smiled faintly.

"I know you care. But there's something I can't explain yet. Please… just go beyond this mountain's reach. Not too far. If I'm not back by noon, when the sun is right above your head, come and check."

Sera crossed her arms. "Listen to him. It's for your safety. I can't protect everyone at once if something happens."

Ren glanced at Fera, giving her a silent plea.

Fera caught it and nodded.

"Okay, Mister Ren. We'll wait beyond the mountain's shadow."

"Thank you," Ren said softly. "Sorry for changing the plan so suddenly."

London loaded the last of the tools onto the wagon.

"It's okay. Stay safe, Mister Ren."

"Thank you, London."

Together, they watched the wagons roll down the path, vanishing beyond the rise.

Sera closed her eyes, sensing.

"They're out of range now."

Ren nodded.

"Let's go."

***

They stood before the crack in the mountain. The narrow seam they'd found the night before.

Sera gave him a last look. "Ren. You sure about this?"

"I am."

Ren touched the map at his side.

It never lies. And it's always led me to something that matters.

But...

His heart tightened.

The bandits. The map tried to warn me then... and I missed it.

He shook the thought off.

The runes on his stones shimmered faintly, barely visible in daylight. He placed them in the groove before the crack.

The glow brightened.

The mountain responded.

The stone wall slid aside with a deep rumble, as if recognizing him.

Ren exhaled.

No one opened it. The mountain itself moved.

Inside lay a narrow tunnel. No more than a meter wide, a meter and a half high. They crouched low and entered.

The embedded stones flickered to life overhead, casting soft light on the rough walls.

Tool marks, Ren noted, running his fingers along the stone.

Chisel. Hammer. No magic. This was carved by hand.

"This wasn't just a hiding place," Sera whispered. "It's a workshop."

The tunnel widened gradually. Columns appeared, carved with curling runes. The chamber opened like a breath held too long, now released.

Before them lay a vast workshop. Dusty, silent, ancient.

An old forge stood cold at the far end. Rusted tools lined the walls. Broken tongs. Bent chisels. Shattered blades. Benches littered with scraps and forgotten dreams.

Chains. Rings. Plates. All abandoned, as if the craftsmen had vanished mid-task.

And in the center...

A blackened stone pedestal.

A massive hammer resting atop it.

Ren froze.

"Sera. The mural."

"What?"

"Look at that hammer."

Sera squinted, then gasped softly.

"Oh... the one on the Ironpeak mural. It's the same."

They stepped closer.

Sera reached out, her magic probing. Her brow furrowed.

"It's full of magic. Alive. But…" She gritted her teeth, veins standing out as she strained. "why can't I lift it?!"

Ren's gaze stayed on the hammer.

If this is the real one... it belongs to someone.

Slowly, he reached out. His fingers brushed the grip.

And a voice, like thunder muffled by the weight of stone, filled his mind:

The weight of this world is borne not by kings nor champions, but by those who raise what is broken. Take the storm's gift.

His breath caught.

"Sera... did you hear that?"

Still searching the room, Sera glanced back.

"What now?"

"I heard a voice. It said... 'The weight of this world is borne not by kings nor champions, but by those who raise what is broken. Take the storm's gift.'"

Sera stilled, watching him now.

Ren placed both hands on the hammer.

No whisper this time.

No resistance.

And as his fingers closed around the grip, the hammer lifted. Smooth, effortless.

As if it had been waiting for him all along.

His eyes widened.

"It's not heavy... at all."

Sera stared at him, frozen for a breath.

Her hands fell to her sides, fingers curling into fists.

She'd tried. She'd strained until her veins stood out, until her magic hummed at her fingertips… and nothing.

And here was Ren. Lifting it as if it were no more than a carpenter's tool.

Her mouth opened, but no words came.

The air had thickened. Not with fear, but with something else.

Respect.

Wonder.

"…How?" she whispered at last, voice soft, almost lost beneath the stirring wind.

Her eyes flicked from the hammer to his face, searching for an answer.

No magic.

No blessing.

Just him.

The dust lifted, swirling around him.

The runes on the columns flared to life, casting light through the cavern.

The forge glowed softly, as if breathing again after ages of silence.

Sera took a slow step back, shaking her head in disbelief, but a smile crept onto her lips.

She wasn't angry.

She wasn't jealous.

She was amazed.

"You… really are different," she said, half to herself.

And for the first time, she saw it. Why people followed him, why the map and mountain answered him.

It wasn't strength.

It wasn't power.

It was Ren.

The voice returned. No longer a whisper, but a presence that filled the space, filled Ren's chest, as if the mountain itself spoke:

You who mend where others destroy.

You who build where others abandon.

You who lift not for glory. But for those without strength.

The storm is yours. The hammer is yours. Go forth, and raise what has fallen.

Ren stood tall, the hammer resting in his hands.

The weight of it was not in its mass, but in what it meant.

And for the first time, the strange heaviness that had clung to the mountain seemed to vanish.

Ren raised his head, covering his eyes with one hand.

And he laughed.

Sera stared.

"What is wrong with you?"

Ren lowered his hand, eyes bright.

"I think I found the reason why I'm here."

"Tell me."

"They called me Null at first because the gods wanted to test my worth."

"So now you think you're worthy?"

"That's not for me to say. But the hammer tells me I am."

Sera exhaled.

"Okay... let's keep searching for anything useful. We can come back here whenever we want."

"Oh yeah. Almost forgot about that."

***

They moved carefully through the ancient workshop, the glow of the columns casting soft patterns across the dust-laden floor.

Ren's gaze drifted toward a far workbench. Where something heavy caught the light.

A helmet.

He lifted it, turning it over in his hands.

Heavy... but balanced.

A pair of curved horns jutted from the sides, weathered but still proud.

The mural... I saw this on the Ironpeak mural.

Beside the helmet, half-buried beneath scraps of brittle leather and old rivets, a curled piece of parchment caught his eye.

Ren brushed the debris aside, carefully unrolling the sheet.

Blueprints.

The ink had faded at the edges, but the lines remained clear. Meticulous, precise.

Engine core? Or something like it... but the design's beyond anything I've seen.

While he searched, Sera moved quietly along the opposite wall.

Her fingers hovered over scattered objects. Rings, shards, bits of metal. She closed her eyes, magic pulsing softly from her palms as she focused.

The air shifted.

A hum. Low, steady. Answered her call.

Seven rings.

Each one glowed faintly, as if stirring from long slumber beneath her touch.

"They're waiting," Sera murmured, almost to herself. "For a wielder."

Ren glanced her way, then back at the blueprint in his hands.

This place... everything here was meant for something. Maybe for someone like me.