The day began with a grand proclamation. The king, with a calm yet imposing presence, stood before Kiwi, Lyria, and Nocthyss in the royal court. With a solemn nod, he officially confirmed Kiwi’s status as the hero destined to bring peace to the world during the coming calamity. His powerful abilities, revealed in the magic assessment, had convinced even the most skeptical of the court. Yet, the king’s words were not without caution: “You are indeed the hero, Kiwi, but there is still much for you to learn and master. The journey ahead will test you.” With those final words, the royal audience concluded, and the trio, now marked by destiny, took their leave from the palace to continue their journey.

  As they left the castle grounds, the excitement of the upcoming trials loomed over Kiwi. But before their journey could resume, Kiwi found himself drawn to a blacksmith's shop at the edge of the village they were passing through. His thoughts drifted to the need for a weapon worthy of his growing power. "I need a sword. Not just any sword, but one that can grow with me." he spoke to himself, "I know a good place, are you interested?" Nocthyss asked Kiwi. "If it's you then there is no doubt about the place being not good" Kiwi said with a smile.

  The moment they entered the shop, the heat of the forge hit them, and the sound of the hammer striking metal rang through the air. The blacksmith was a towering figure—muscles rippling with strength and his dragon scales shimmering in the light of the furnace. He glanced up from his work, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, and gave them a calm, proud smile.

  "Ah, customers," the blacksmith said, his voice deep and warm. "Welcome to my shop. The name's Forgeheart. You’re clearly not from around here, but with that royal emblem, I’d say you’ve got quite the mission ahead of you."

  Kiwi felt the weight of Forgeheart’s gaze and nodded, the royal emblem now apparent on their cloaks. “I need a sword—something more than just a tool. Something that will grow with me.”

  Forgeheart gave a thoughtful hum as he set down his hammer and approached them. “Ah, a sword capable of growing wit it's user. That’s no easy task, but I can forge it. If taken care of, it may even evolve into something truly legendary.”

  Kiwi’s eyes brightened with excitement. This was exactly what he needed—something to help him harness his powers. Forgeheart turned to his forge once again, the flickering flames illuminating his determined face. “I’ll get started immediately. It will take some time, but the sword you seek will be one worthy of your journey, the sword will continue in 8 days, after which you can come and pick the sword."

  "Ok then, I will see you in 8 days" Kiwi said and then left.

  With that settled, the trio continued their path toward the Festival of Emberlight. As they approached the village, the sounds of laughter, dancing, and music filled the air. The festival was already in full swing.

  The trio walked through the village, marveling at the decorations hanging from every streetlamp, the fire torches lining the roads, and the dancing flames in the night’s sky. Children ran past them, holding flame lanterns, their faces alight with joy.

  Kiwi could hardly believe the vibrancy of it all. "I didn’t know a festival could be this… energetic," he muttered, eyes wide with curiosity.

  "You’ll get used to it," Lyria said with a grin. "It’s all about fun and warmth. Don’t worry, you’re with us now."

  Nocthyss, the towering dragon woman, had already drawn the attention of a few villagers, who whispered in awe at her presence. They were used to seeing the humans and other species, but a dragon among them was a rare sight, especially one so majestic.

  "Do you think we should join in?" Kiwi asked, as he watched people preparing for various contests. "It looks like they’re doing a lot of dancing, eating, and magic games."

  "Why not?" Nocthyss said, grinning. "A little challenge never hurt anyone, right?"

  The first challenge they came across was the Flame Dance Challenge, a competition that involved twirling around massive fire torches without getting burned. The villagers cheered for every successful contestant, but when Nocthyss stepped up, her confidence was apparent. She moved with precision, dancing with grace and speed—until, of course, her tail whipped out behind her, knocking over a small vendor’s stall and sending his drink flying. The crowd burst into laughter.

  "Oops," she muttered, slightly embarrassed but managing to keep her pride intact.

  Kiwi, who had been standing in the background, felt the villagers’ expectant gazes fall on him. He shuffled forward, his feet heavy as he tried to imitate Nocthyss’s moves. The moment he started, he tripped on a loose stone, causing a cloud of dust to swirl up around him. He awkwardly spun in circles, his arms flailing to regain his balance. Lyria, standing by, couldn’t contain her laughter, but she cheered him on, "Nice moves, Kiwi! You’re almost there!"

  The villagers, to Kiwi’s surprise, clapped and cheered, thinking it was all part of the act. Kiwi, now more flustered than ever, gave an exaggerated bow before retreating to the side with a sheepish smile.

  Lyria stepped up next, graceful and confident, as always. Her movements were fluid, almost ethereal, and she twirled effortlessly beneath the firelight, earning applause from the crowd. Kiwi, still catching his breath, smiled at her with admiration. She was a natural.

  Next, they moved to the Flame-Eating Contest. Kiwi, trying to redeem himself, hesitated before picking up a small flame and swallowing it. But he wasn’t prepared for how hot it would be. He immediately spat the flame out, sending it flying toward a nearby stall. The vendor ducked, shouting, "Watch where you're spitting that fire, lad!"

  Nocthyss, never one to shy away from a challenge, grabbed a flame and swallowed it with ease. That is, until the heat hit her, and she began to yelp and blow smoke from her ears. She dashed for a nearby bucket of water, only to accidentally knock it over with her tail. The villagers laughed in good-natured humor as Nocthyss stood there, slightly singed and looking utterly unfazed by the entire debacle.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Lyria, ever the calm one, took her turn. She swallowed the flame carefully, only to end up blowing smoke from her nose like a dragon. The villagers roared with laughter, but Lyria, ever graceful, gave a perfect curtsy, earning their admiration.

  Finally, Kiwi, determined to make things right, stepped up once again. This time, he tried to control the flame within him—but instead of eating it, he accidentally created a small fireball that shot into the air and exploded in a burst of light and smoke. Kiwi jumped back, startled. The villagers looked at each other in surprise, and then they all started clapping as if Kiwi had intended it all along. Lyria patted him on the back, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You’ve got some serious flair, Kiwi."

  "Yeah, I think I’ll stick to less dangerous contests next time," Kiwi muttered, still reeling from the excitement.

  The next event was the Mana Lantern Game, where villagers used their magic to create glowing, floating lanterns. Kiwi, still learning to control his powers, infused his lantern with too much mana. It grew too large, then burst, sending a small shockwave through the festival grounds. Kiwi’s eyes widened in shock as the villagers began to cheer, thinking it was part of the show.

  Nocthyss, always willing to show off, crafted a beautiful fire lantern that floated high above her head. But in true Nocthyss fashion, she wasn’t content with perfection. She made the lantern too hot, and within moments, it caught fire. The flame spread rapidly, shrinking the lantern and sending a burst of fire toward a food stand. The villagers ducked for cover, laughing hysterically.

  Lyria, unphased by the chaos around her, calmly crafted a glowing, serene lantern that floated gracefully into the air, catching the admiration of everyone around her. Kiwi and Nocthyss watched in awe as the villagers cheered for Lyria’s flawless performance.

  After the festival trio decide to stay in the village until the sword is done, the the 8 days passed.

  The village was alive with the hum of the festival as the trio walked back to Forgeheart's shop. After 8 days, they were eager to finally see the result of their request. As they approached the blacksmith's forge, the flickering flames illuminated the workshop's interior, and Forgeheart was just finishing up his work.

  The bell above the door chimed as they entered, and the familiar sound of the hammer striking metal echoed in the room. Forgeheart stood by his anvil, the newly crafted sword resting on the stone counter before him. He turned, meeting their gaze with a proud, knowing smile.

  “Well, here it is,” Forgeheart said, his voice soft yet brimming with pride. “The sword you asked for.”

  Kiwi’s breath caught as he saw the weapon before him. The sword was beautiful, the hilt crafted from a mix of dragon scale and dwarven steel, its deep crimson hue catching the firelight. The blade itself shimmered with an ethereal glow, almost as if it had a life of its own. The mana-infused runes along the blade pulsated softly, radiating an eerie yet powerful aura. It was clear that this was no ordinary weapon—it was something special.

  Kiwi stepped forward, his fingers itching to touch it, his heart pounding. “It looks… incredible.” His voice faltered as he examined it closer, feeling an almost magnetic pull to the blade.

  Forgeheart chuckled, clearly pleased by Kiwi’s reaction. “It’s yours now, lad. But this blade will need care and focus. It’s not just a sword—it’s a vessel. It will grow stronger with you, fed by your mana. And if you nurture it, who knows what it will become in time. A legendary weapon, perhaps.”

  Kiwi gently lifted the sword from its resting place, feeling its weight and balance. It was perfectly crafted, fitting his grip as if it had always been meant for him. As his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a sudden warmth coursed through him, a surge of energy pulsing from the sword itself.

  Nocthyss, standing behind him, leaned in with a raised brow. “I can feel it,” she murmured. “This sword—it’s connected to you.”

  Lyria, her arms folded with a thoughtful expression, nodded. “It’s… alive, in a way. The magic is woven into it, just as it is in you.”

  Kiwi turned the sword in his hands, testing its weight, and a small smile crept onto his face. “I don’t know what to call it. It feels like… it should have a name.”

  Forgeheart’s gaze grew soft, his eyes distant. “Names are important. They give life to a weapon, make it something more than just a tool. It’s as much a part of you as you are of it.”

  There was a long pause as Kiwi pondered the sword in his hands. He felt an immense connection to it—something ancient, something powerful, something that would grow alongside him on his journey. He knew then what to call it.

  “Soulbinder,” he said quietly, as if the sword itself whispered the name to him. “A sword that binds not only souls, but destiny itself.”

  Nocthyss and Lyria exchanged glances, both surprised by the name, but it felt right.

  “Soulbinder…” Forgeheart repeated softly, nodding in approval. “A fitting name for a weapon with such power. It will serve you well, lad. Remember, it is not just a sword—it is a companion. It will grow stronger with you. Just as you’ll grow stronger with it.”

  Kiwi looked at Soulbinder in his hands, the weight of the blade now not just physical, but symbolic. His journey was only just beginning, and this sword would be by his side, a silent yet constant presence.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Kiwi said, his voice full of determination. “Thank you, Forgeheart. This sword will not be forgotten.”

  The blacksmith gave a small nod, his expression one of quiet pride. “Take good care of it. It’ll be a weapon of legend one day.”

  As Kiwi sheathed Soulbinder at his side, he felt a newfound strength and resolve. With his sword and his companions by his side, he was ready to face whatever came next in his journey. The world was changing, and Soulbinder would help him shape its future.

  Kiwi, feeling a sudden curiosity about the history of heroes, asked, "I’ve heard stories about a hero who brought peace to all the species. What can you tell me about that?"

  Forgeheart’s expression grew distant, and he took a slow breath, as if recalling a story long passed. "Ah, that hero…" he began, his voice calm and reflective. "Thousands of years ago, when our world was on the brink of destruction, when species fought and war seemed inevitable, a hero appeared. He was the ray of hope. His strength and wisdom united us all, ending the war and bringing peace to the land. His deeds are remembered in every corner of this world."

  Kiwi listened intently, leaning closer. "What happened to this hero? Was he a great warrior?"

  "More than that," Forgeheart said, his voice filled with quiet pride. "He saved lives, countless lives—dragons, demons, humans, and every species that had been torn apart by fear and hate. The old stories say that my grandfather, a young dragon back then, used to idolize the hero, hoping to meet him one day, even after his death." Forgeheart paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My grandfather never did meet him, but he always believed that if we ever met someone like him again, we’d be blessed."

  With the sword now complete and its name chosen, Kiwi, Lyria, and Nocthyss set out once more on their journey. The Festival of Emberlight might have been a memory now, but the path ahead was one of great significance, and with each step, they grew closer to the truth of what was to come.