Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 513:A Gift For Rathlos

For a few moments, an unnerving silence descended. Ethan's hands cradled the twin swords, their golden crimson luminescence casting shifting patterns on the forging chamber walls. Though the forge's intense heat had begun to recede, the atmosphere in the room had undergone a profound transformation. The prior tension had dissipated, replaced by a different kind of weight – the heavy stillness that follows a monumental achievement.

Rathlos broke the quiet, stepping forward first. His gaze remained fixed upon the blades, and for the first time, his eyes held no trace of sarcasm or doubt, only plain astonishment at the sight of the weapons in Ethan's grasp.

"You... you actually accomplished it," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Otlo approached with a similar deliberate slowness, his steps careful as if wary of disturbing something deserving of utmost reverence. "This is no mere weapon," he stated softly, his eyes tracing the contours of the blades. "It pulses with life."

Mareti lowered his staff, observing Ethan and then the swords with a calculating look. "A growth-type armament, possessing a draconic soul and capable of dual forms," he announced. "Even among legendary artifacts, this ranks among the very pinnacle."

Ethan offered no immediate reply. He rotated one of the blades gently, watching a faint glow ripple across its surface like water stirred by a languid current. A subtle hum emanated from the weapon, resonating within him not as sound, but as a secondary heartbeat synchronized with his own.

"It's stable," he finally confirmed after a beat.

Rathlos exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Stable? You deem this 'stable'?" He scrutinized the blade once more. "This thing could probably cleave a mountain in half effortlessly and stop pointing itself at me."

"It's making me tingle!"

A faint smile touched Ethan's lips. "Then perhaps do not stand directly in front of it."

Otlo emitted a soft chuckle at the remark, while Mareti merely inclined his head with an unsurprised expression.

Rathlos, however, remained unusually quiet. His eyes were still locked on the swords, a rare stillness and thoughtful contemplation settling upon his features.

"You know," he began slowly, "if you had told me mere months ago that you possessed the skill to forge something of this caliber, I would have firmly believed you were out of your mind."

Ethan met his gaze. "You still can."

Rathlos let out a low snort, devoid of its usual acrimony or sharp edge.

A brief, charged silence enveloped the chamber.

Then, Ethan spoke again. "Wait here."

He turned and walked towards a section of the forge without further elaboration. Rathlos frowned slightly, observing his departure.

"And now?" he inquired.

Ethan offered no verbal response. Instead, he opened a concealed compartment adjacent to the forging platform. Within, meticulously wrapped in heat-resistant cloth, lay another weapon. He retrieved it and returned to the group.

"This was completed earlier," Ethan stated, extending the newly retrieved item.

Rathlos blinked in surprise. "You forged another one already?"

Ethan nodded. "I've adjusted it for you."

He began unwrapping the cloth with slow deliberation, revealing the sword held within. It was immediately apparent that this creation differed vastly from the twin blades.

Its body was forged from a deep, obsidian-like metal that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light. The blade itself was slender and subtly curved, intricate shadow-like patterns swirling across its surface in a perpetual, fluid motion, akin to mist veiled beneath glass. A muted shimmer graced its edge, yet the palpable aura surrounding it felt sharp, cold, and intensely purposeful.

Mareti's eyes narrowed slightly as he analyzed it. "This one possesses shadow attributes."

Ethan affirmed with a nod. "I refined it using shadow-aligned materials and layered enchantments."

Rathlos gazed at the weapon for a prolonged moment, his silence punctuated only by his eventual question directed at Ethan. "You crafted this... for me?"

Ethan held the sword out towards him. "Take it."

Rathlos hesitated, his immediate reaction one of disbelief. "You're serious?"

Ethan met his gaze with unwavering directness. "It suits your combat style."

After a brief pause, Rathlos stepped forward and accepted the sword. The instant his fingers closed around the hilt, the weapon responded demonstrably. A faint, dark aura emanated outwards, and the swirling patterns on its surface shifted and reformed, as if acknowledging its new wielder and making subtle adjustments.

Rathlos's eyes widened infinitesimally. "It resonates with me."

He performed a light, fluid swing, the blade slicing through the air with absolute silence, leaving naught but a fleeting shadow in its wake that dissipated moments later.

"This is... perfect," he declared softly, an unmistakable, unreserved satisfaction coloring his voice – a raw emotion rarely displayed by him.

Ethan offered a single nod. "Use it well."

Rathlos looked from the sword to Ethan and back again. "I will."

Otlo folded his arms, a satisfied grin stretching across his features. "One for himself, and another for his subordinate. Truly audacious."

Mareti exhaled softly. "You had this prepared beforehand."

Ethan offered a slight shrug. "I had the opportunity."

Indeed, this very sword had been the culmination of an arduous trial, marked by numerous unsuccessful attempts before its successful creation. The sheer volume of materials expended during this process would likely have sent Rathlos into a cold sweat had he known the true extent of the waste.

Fortunately, a perfect specimen had finally been forged, deemed fitting for Rathlos's prowess.

Ethan gently rubbed the side of his nose. "Am I not considerate?" he mused internally.

Rathlos gazed at the blade once more, his fingers tightening around the hilt with firm, deliberate resolve. "I shall not squander it. Thank you for the present."

"Present!" Ethan momentarily paused, a broad grin forming.

"What present?"

"The cost will be deducted from your wages."

Rathlos regarded Ethan as if he were jesting, but the latter offered no reply. He merely turned, the twin swords still held in his grasp, their steady glow illuminating the gentle warmth of the forge.