The setting sun cast a golden rim over the grass, and Ariana's new sword reflected an orange-red glow—the traces of Ian's summoned forging flames.
A set of self-operating bellows was at work.
It seemed to be rhythmically pulled by an invisible hand of magic, producing deep, powerful whooshes. With every pump, the flames in the air grew fiercer.
Even though there was no proper furnace.
Still.
The sword came out of the forge.
Blazing fire continued to burn freely in the air, its orange-red glow dyeing the surrounding grass crimson, yet no one nearby felt any intense heat.
This was the terrifying extent of Ian's control over magic. He was already a seasoned alchemist, skillfully manipulating magic to perform the final shaping and polishing of the blade out of thin air.
A sharp edge gradually emerged, giving off a chilling gleam.
It really looked cool.
Ian looked at his masterpiece with a satisfied smile. Pandora had originally wanted to come over and mouth off, only for Ian to seize him and prepare to refine him on the spot.
Well.
Not exactly refine him on the spot.
This sword could be regarded as a special kind of "mecha." It only needed a qualified "pilot" to move on its own, and what pilot could be more qualified than King Arthur?
Pandora had always bragged about how incredible his swordsmanship was. Now Ian wanted Pandora to let him see it for himself. He did not need to learn swordsmanship—he only needed to seize someone who knew it!
"What are you doing?!"
Pandora was truly horrified.
His eyes went round, like two glass beads about to pop out of their sockets. Ian had grabbed the back of his collar, while his other hand held the freshly forged longsword and kept forcing him toward it.