The blow of the wooden sword against Darian's ribs sounded like the crack of a dry branch.
The young man spat dirt and saliva, stumbling backward across the Guild's rear courtyard. His lungs burned and sweat stung his eyes. He had been absorbing the physical punishment of a warrior who doubled him in weight and size for hours. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, turning the courtyard into an oven.
But Darian's real enemy wasn't Varkas. It was his own body.
The dark energy of the grimoire from Telesto Canyon exerted a constant, crushing pressure. It didn't block his mana, but it weighed on him like an invisible lead armor. Every step cost double. Every time he raised his sword, his arms trembled.
"Don't stop!" Varkas roared, closing the distance.
The warrior launched a downward slash. Darian tried to block, but his body was too slow. The blow sent him to his knees in the dry mud.
Darian rose with effort, breathing hard, and let the practice sword drop to the ground.
"Damn it!" he growled. "I can't move in time! This heaviness is killing me!"
"He has a point, you know," said a mocking voice from the edge of the courtyard.
Darian looked up. Aria was sitting on a water barrel, biting into a green apple with a mischievous smile.
"How long have you been watching?" Darian asked.
"Long enough to see you eat dirt three times in a row," she replied, taking another bite. "Your posture is awful. You look like an old man carrying a sack of rocks."
"Why don't you come down here and try fighting with this weight on you?" Darian challenged her.
"I use a bow. My job is to be fast, not to let giants hit me with wooden sticks," Aria laughed, jumping down from the barrel.
Varkas rested his wooden sword on his shoulder and ignored the teasing.
"In a real fight, the enemy doesn't care if you feel heavy. They cut your head off anyway. Again."
The session continued for a few more minutes until Aria stood beside Darian's head as he lay on the ground catching his breath.
"Alright, that's enough beating for today," the archer said. "By the way, I just came from seeing Thorgar. He said everything is finished. He's waiting for us."
Darian got up immediately. The crushing exhaustion seemed to evaporate at the sheer anticipation. Varkas let out a satisfied grunt.
They left the Guild at a quick pace. As they crossed the city, the excitement made even the heaviness in Darian's chest feel a little lighter.
When they arrived at the forge, the workshop was silent. Darian pushed the door. Thorgar was waiting behind the volcanic stone table, a look of pride on his weathered face. On the table rested three bundles wrapped in thick brown cloth.
"You took long enough," the smith said. "Come closer."
Thorgar removed the first cloth. Varkas let out a grunt of approval upon seeing his new immense shield and heavy armor forged from the rock dragon's plates. Beside them rested a long sword of dark metal with resonant crystals that glowed with blue light.
"It's perfect," Varkas murmured, testing the balance.
Thorgar uncovered the second bundle. Aria's eyes went wide. There was her white curved bow, reinforced with black-blue crystals, along with the spectacular cloak made from the blood wolf's hide and a light leather reinforced armor that adapted perfectly to her figure.
She put the cloak on instantly and drew the bow with a predatory smile.
"It's a work of art," she said, almost breathless.
Finally, Thorgar revealed Darian's equipment. Two swords: a long main combat blade and a shorter one for defense. Both were forged entirely from black resonant crystal, with a central line of blue light that vibrated along the full length of each blade. At the base of each blade, embedded with precision, glowed the rock dragon's cores, a deep, intense red. The pommel of each hilt displayed delicate decorations made from the same dragon core.
Beside the weapons rested a dark plate armor, light but solid.
Darian gripped both swords. Upon contact with his mana, the black crystal offered no resistance; it accepted him as if the blades were a living extension of his arms.
"I tried to make them as light as possible," Thorgar explained. "Those crystals will let your magic flow without problems. You won't disintegrate a weapon again."
Darian adjusted his breastplate, pauldrons, and greaves. The real weight of the equipment added to the constant pressure in his chest, but for the first time he felt he had the tools to bear it.
The three looked at each other. Aria with her new cloak billowing and her light armor, Varkas with his shield and long sword, and Darian with his two black and blue crystal swords crossed before him.
"We're ready," Darian said with a smile.
Thorgar stepped back, proud.
Three figures gleamed beneath the orange light of the forges. They were no longer the wounded adventurers who had returned from the abyss. Now they were a complete team, armed and united, ready to face whatever came next.