Legendary Shadow Blacksmith

“...It’s gone.”

“Juliet… I…”

“It’s gone, Julian!” Juliet’s voice trembled as she stood by the wrecked stall, her hands gripping the sides of the workbench. “Our sword! Our… our baby! We… we poured our hearts in it and I just… I lost it!”

“Uhm…” Julian stood in front of her, silent for a moment. He knew where the sword went—his quest, the Master of Shadows, had absorbed it. But of course, he couldn’t say that. Not now. Not to her.

“Juliet…” Julian tried to speak calmly, hoping to ease her panic, “We’ll… figure this out. If someone really did take it, then that means that we made something great and–”

“No.” But Juliet was already pacing, her fists clenched as her eyes scanned the damaged stall.

“It’s them,” she said, her voice rising. “I know it’s them! My old employers—they must’ve heard, no. They must have seen us crafting the [Epic] grade sword and sent someone to steal it! This is exactly the kind of thing they’d do!”

“Well…” Julian placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch steady. “Juliet, we can’t jump to conclusions. Let’s take a breath and think, stay calm.”

“I am calm!” Juliet snapped, her voice cracking. “I spent my life trying to make something like that, and the second I do, it’s stolen from me! I know… I know you did most of the work, but still…”

“Well, I don’t know about you, Julian…” Behind them, Cyrus watched with wide eyes, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding as he whispered to Julian, “...But this sounds like some solid content. Maybe we should go talk to these old employers. You know… for the views. Spice things up before the dungeon.”

Julian shot him a glare but didn’t say anything.

“Juliet,” Julian turned back to Juliet, his voice low and calm, “We… don’t have proof they took it. If you go out there and start blaming people, it won’t be—”

“No.” Juliet took a shaky breath, wiping her eyes. “We…I will talk to them.”

“Exactly!” Cyrus stepped forward, as if trying to instigate the situation even further, “We go and confront them. You’ve got Julian with you! He can take them on if they try anything shady.”

“Alright,” Juliet blinked, still shaken but nodding slowly at Julian. “Let’s go.”

“I worked at that forge for years.”

As they made their way through the bustling plaza of smithies, Juliet’s anger didn’t subside. If anything, it only grew as she spoke, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sadness.

“Years of hammering away, trying to prove my worth–but no.” She muttered, fists clenched. “No matter what I did, they only saw me as a failure, even though I did so many things right.”

“Hm…” Julian walked beside her, staying silent but listening intently. Cyrus, on the other hand, was narrating everything to his viewers in a low voice, careful not to interrupt her venting.

“They… hired me for my Skill,” Juliet continued, “the [Fire Enhancement] skill I got from my class. It only has a 1% activation rate, and in all the time I worked for them, it only… it only activated once. Just once in all those years, and they laughed at me, said I wasn’t reliable, that I was just a bad smith—but even without my Skill, I made so many weapons for them that sold a lot before I left.”

Julian could feel the pain in her words. He knew what it felt like to be underestimated, to have your worth judged by others.

“We… we need to get our sword back…” Juliet’s voice broke slightly as she spoke, “...The sword with my [Fire Enhancement] skill with it, they don’t deserve it, not again. I’m not going to have our… our baby there where the other swords are soulless and mass-produced.”

“Juliet…” Julian tried to find the right words to comfort her, but couldn’t as all of this was his fault.

As for Cyrus, well, his whisper was full of energy as he spoke to the chat.

“Folks, you’re hearing it live. This isn’t just about the sword; this is about redemption. Juliet here was treated unfairly for years, and now we’re about to face the very people who put her down. Stay tuned, this… is going to be huge.”

“You…” Julian shot Cyrus a quick glare, but really only sighed as his focus should be on Juliet. This entire thing was his fault, but alas… saying anything about the Master of Shadows quest now might lead him to his death.

And very soon, they arrived at the entrance of the large smithy.

Juliet didn’t bother knocking; she pushed the door open and stormed inside, her eyes scanning the busy forge. The workers who were busy running around and hammering away, quickly turned their heads toward Juliet, whispering amongst themselves as soon as they saw her.

And just like that, the chaos inside the forge was silenced.

“Where is he!?” Juliet’s voice turned loud as she stepped into the middle of the workshop. Some of the workers were about to approach her, but they all halted their lips and steps when a gruff voice whispered from across the room.

“Jules…?” It was a large man with a hammer slung over his shoulder, his face lined with years of hard labor—there was something noticeable about him that stood out, however—he had the smallest arms among everyone in the smithy, even Juliet, “What in the flames are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here, Bran,” Juliet spat, her fists clenched. “Where’s the sword?”

“Sword?” Bran blinked, clearly confused. “What sword?”

“The one we made,” Juliet took a step forward, her voice rising. “The one you or your cronies stole from my stall! The [Epic] sword we made. I know you took it!”

“You…? An [Epic] grade sword?” And with that, Bran’s confusion melted into a smirk. “Please, Juliet, you were barely competent when you worked here. You expect me to believe you made something like that?”

“Barely competent!?” Juliet’s face flushed with anger, “My axe was the one who put you in the map, Old Man!”

“Look, girl, I don’t know what fantasy you’re living in now, but if you think I’m responsible for your failures, you’re sorely mistaken...” He crossed his arms, his smirk widening as the other blacksmiths snickered behind him, “...You did that all on your own.”

“You…” Juliet’s fists trembled at her sides; her teeth, almost chattering from how hard she was gritting it.”

“Calm down, Juliet,” Julian whispered into her ear, placing a hand on her shoulder again. He could feel her trembling, but after a few moments, she let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“I… I can prove it,” Juliet said, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and determination. “We made it once. We can make another one, right here, right now.”

“Oh…?” Bran raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Is that so? And who’s ‘we,’ exactly? You and this guy?” He nodded toward Julian, a hint of mockery in his tone, “Oh please, Juliet, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Don’t…” Juliet’s voice cracked, but she quickly recovered. “Don’t act like you know what I’m capable of. I was always better than any of you gave me credit for.”

“Is that so?” The owner’s mocking expression didn’t waver. “Then prove it.”

The entire forge went silent as the challenge hung in the air.

“What?” Juliet stared at the owner, her heart pounding in her chest.

“You said you would show us,” the owner smirked. “You want to prove you made an [Epic] sword? Then show us what you’ve got. Forge something right here, right now, that proves you’re not just full of shit. You and… your friend there.”

“Julian. I—”

“Sure.” Julian, who had been silent the entire time, glanced at Juliet. He could feel the weight of her emotions—anger, frustration, and fear of being humiliated—he knew the same feeling all too much. And… it wasn’t because this entire thing was his fault in the first place… not at all. “Okay, I’ll… help you.”

“I… I can do it,” Juliet said, her voice steadying. “But you’ll regret this.”

“Oh, I doubt it.” The owner’s smirk widened.

And while the temperature inside the smithy was getting hotter, both literally and figuratively, Cyrus, well… he was practically buzzing with excitement.

“Oh man, chat, this is gonna be epic...” Cyrus whispered for the chat again, seemingly extremely used to doing so without being noticed by anyone, “Juliet’s gonna prove her old boss wrong—live! And our very own Sword Junkie will help her.”

And soon, Juliet and Julian stepped up to the forge together.

“Oi! Stop crafting and let’s watch this first!”

“...Who’s that?”

“That’s Jules, she used to work here but quit.”

“Quit? I thought she was fired…?”

“Pft, most probably. Women shouldn’t even be near a forge.”

“That’s a woman?”

The owner and his blacksmiths all gathered around, their mocking expressions replaced with curiosity. Even Cyrus, who was recording everything for the stream, kept his usual commentary to a minimum, his eyes glued to the unfolding scene.

“Alright,” Juliet ignored everything happening around her as she rolled up her sleeves. Her hands trembled slightly, but her face remained completely resolute as she grabbed a large piece of metal from the pile on the floor. “Let's make a khopesh, you know what it is?”

"A... khopesh?" Julian hummed in surprise.

They have that type of sword here, and they call it the same thing? Khopesh is an ancient sword from Earth, from a country called Kemet, or New Egypt in the present times. It was created almost 10 millennia ago… and they have the same thing here?

"I... do know what it is." Julian gave a quiet nod.

“Good.” Juliet lit the forge, the heat roaring to life, making sweat bead on her forehead. She then grabbed a pair of tongs, using them to place the blank ingot into the heart of the forge. The metal quickly began to glow, first red, then orange, as the heat softened it to the perfect malleable state.

The khopesh was not a simple sword—it had a curved blade that transitioned from a straight edge to a sickle-like curve. This required precise forging and careful attention to the shaping process. Juliet knew this, and Julian, of course, trusted her skill, but he was ready to assist without taking control… at least not too much.

Julian’s hand hovered over the furnace, feeling the heat radiating off the metal. Even without seeing, he could tell when it was ready.

“Ready?” Juliet asked, her grip tightening on the hammer, “You can take it off now.”

“Hm.” Julian nodded silently, grabbing the glowing blank from the forge with the tongs and placing it on the anvil. He held it steady, guiding it into position as Juliet raised her hammer.

Clang!

And with a sharp clang, the hammer came down, sending sparks flying into the air. Each strike reverberated through the forge, and Julian, well, he very subtly adjusted the blank after each hit, ensuring that the metal bent and shaped exactly as needed.

Clang!

Juliet’s strikes were powerful, but Julian’s precision ensured that they were perfect. His subtle adjustments, invisible to most, were helping her hit the exact spots needed to form the complex shape of the khopesh.

“Treat—”

As the metal cooled slightly, Julian would place it back in the forge, reheating it to keep it soft for the next round of hammering.

Clang!

“Wait…” Cyrus, standing back with his camera-his eyes-noticed the way Julian’s hands moved. His eyes focused in on Julian’s hands, catching the subtle shifts, the delicate but exact movements that guided Juliet’s every strike, “Is he… making her hit [Perfect] hits!?”

“[Perfect] hits...” Bran and the other blacksmiths also noticed it, and they could not help but just narrow their eyes.

The khopesh’s distinct curve began to form even more, the blade transitioning from a straight edge into its signature hook. This part of the process was critical—if the curve was too sharp or too blunt, the weapon would lose its effectiveness and practically its essence.

“Woah…” But with each strike of Juliet’s hammer and Julian’s adjustments, the blade curved beautifully, taking on its ancient, recognizable shape.

“Look at that form…” Cyrus murmured to the stream, “Look how they’re working together…”

The other blacksmiths, who had been sneering and laughing earlier, were now completely silent. Their eyes were fixed on the anvil, on the curved sword that was slowly but surely coming to life in front of them.

Clang!

The owner’s eyes narrowed even further, watching as Juliet’s hammer fell again and again, guided by Julian’s subtle corrections. His sneer faded as the khopesh gleamed with heat and power—he was completely aware of what that is—it was Juliet’s [Fire Enhancement] skill taking effect.

Clang.

“Julian…” And finally, with the last strike, Juliet stepped back, breathing heavily as she nodded to Julian.

“Okay.” Julian quickly placed the blade into the quenching barrel, steam hissing violently as soon as he did so. Even with the simple things, Julian moved with the same precision, never hesitating.

And once the blade was quenched, it was time to grind the edge. Juliet wiped her brow and moved toward the grinding wheel, but Julian was already there—his hand already handing the blade to Juliet.

“Uhm…” Juliet narrowed her eyes as she grabbed the khopesh.

“I’ll turn the grindstone,” Julian murmured.

“...Okay,” Juliet stepped to the grinding wheel and began shaping the edge as Julian spun it with his hands, sparks flying as the wheel bit into the metal. Unlike Juliet’s grinding wheel which had a foot peg since she worked alone, the grinding wheel in Bran’s smithy is turned by hand for the apprentices and assistants to turn it themselves.

Juliet ran the blade carefully along the wheel’s surface, creating a razor-sharp edge. She noticed something, however, whenever she moved the blade… Julian either slowed down or sped up the wheel—completely but subtly guiding her to make the sword as perfect as possible.

She watched him closely now, her eyes widening as she realized how effortlessly she was able to shape the blade due to Julian’s help.

Finally, Juliet moved to attach the hilt, lightly hammering the tang of the blade into the handle and securing it with leather strips.

And just like that the khopesh was complete. The blade gleamed in the dim light of the forge, its deadly curve catching the eye of everyone watching.

Julian held it up, feeling the balance in his hand, a small smile on his lips.

“It’s perfect,” Juliet whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of pride and disbelief as Julian handed the curved sword back to her. Even without checking through [Guidance], Juliet could feel the quality of the weapon just by looking and feeling it. But of course, she was going to check it.

[Item: Juliet’s Devotion]

Type: One-handed Khopesh

Grade: Epic

Durability: 220/220

Sharpness: 110

Weight: 3.0

Special Effects:

Balanced Weight – The perfect balance of this blade enhances Agility by 10%, allowing for quicker recovery between strikes.

Skills:

Fire Brand – 15% chance to ignite the blade on impact, dealing continuous burn damage over time.

Description:

A beautifully crafted khopesh forged through the combined efforts of Juliet and Julian. The signature curve of the blade is precise, making it deadly in close combat and against armored foes. The khopesh’s steel holds a rare and subtle fire enchantment, sparking flames with each swing. This is only the third weapon Juliet has ever successfully enhanced with her [Fire Enhancement] skill, a testament to the perfection achieved with Julian’s subtle guidance. As sharp as it is elegant, this blade will make its wielder a force to be reckoned with.

[End of Description]

“That’s… a Mid-tier [Epic]...” Bran’s face twisted with frustration as he realized they had done it—crafted a weapon far beyond what he ever thought possible.

“Chat,” Cyrus, standing off to the side with wide eyes, whispered to himself, “I think we just witnessed something incredible.”

“This is…” Juliet stood there for a moment, staring at the blade with a mix of disbelief and pride. She had done it again. With Julian’s help, she had created another [Epic] weapon—no. She wasn’t a fool.

She knew this was only possible because of Julian. And twice now—twice he had helped activate her [Fire Enhancement] skill. Just what sort of [Blacksmith Class] does he actually have?

“Julian, this is—”

“Well, well,” Bran stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the sword. “I have to admit, Juliet… I didn’t think you had it in you. But this… this will truly look good in my shop.”

“Huh…?” Juliet frowned as she pulled the sword closer to her. “What are you even saying?”

“Well…” Bran’s smirk returned, though this time it carried a more sinister edge. “You made this in my smithy, in my forge, with my materials. So, that sword belongs to me.”

“W… what?” Juliet’s eyes widened. “No! Julian and I made this! It’s ours!”

“It doesn’t matter who made it, Jules.” Bran shrugged, his smirk widening. This is my forge, my resources. The sword is mine by right—ask the authorities of Ethaca if you want to.”

“You…” Juliet looked like she was about to explode, her face red with anger. “You can’t just take it! That’s not fair!”

“Fair…?” Bran took another step forward, towering over Juliet. “There’s nothing wrong with what I said, Jules.”

“But—”

“He’s right.” Julian, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. His voice was calm but firm.

Juliet turned to him, her eyes wide with shock. “Julian…?”

“I agree with him, Juliet.” Julian repeated, stepping toward Bran. “He owns the materials. Technically, the sword is his. But in exchange for our labor…

…we’ll trade it for several of the stuff from your inventory.”