Left-Handed Enthusiast

With no important pieces left to interfere, Lowett finally got to work.

The star thrown into the pile of debris quickly went berserk, but it was swiftly subdued by the spells formed from Lowett's immense Soul Energy. Its surface temperature, already several thousand degrees, filled the "furnace" and supplied Lowett's spellcasting.

Before long, the planet on the first orbit had been forged into a "hammer" of astonishing density. It was as though some invisible giant stood in space, wielding a massive hammer and endlessly pounding the flesh-and-blood planet.

The violent impacts and terrifying heat melted the fleshy body, then reforged it.

Melted again, reforged again.

Disk-shaped energy shockwaves burst outward like rippling sound waves, sweeping clean the surrounding trillions of light-years of space.

Time was difficult to measure in the universe. No one knew how long this repeated forging had continued, but when even Lowett felt his soul beginning to run dry, the flesh-and-blood planet finally became what he wanted.

"So Stormbreaker's forging process was absolutely fucking broken, wasn't it?"

Looking at the slender arm lying quietly within the star, Lowett complained.

"A divine weapon capable of cleaving through Thanos's physical defenses was made with one 'duang.' With cheats like that, no wonder Asgard never developed industrial assembly lines."

Complaints aside, Lowett was still very satisfied with his creation.

There was a common misconception: forging was actually one of the proper secondary professions for mages.

For some divine weapons with powerful magical effects, aside from the runes and Spell Marks carved onto their surfaces, the metal itself was often forged by the mages. Only then could the magical effects and their vessel achieve the most perfect balance.

"Magic Fabric," "alchemy potions," "mana metals," "rune enchantment," "jewelry crafting," "Magic array inlaying"—these were all skills poor mages had to learn while working