Journey to Become the Zenith-Chapter 55: Steel and Sparks

Steel and Sparks

He tore the parchment from the board.

"We’ll be doing this quest."

Clara saw the excitement in his gaze.

She didn’t try to dissuade him.

She had already learned that once Victor decided something—

It was decided.

Victor rolled his shoulders lightly, feeling the familiar stir of anticipation in his veins. The promise of the unknown. The scent of danger waiting in distant mountains. It felt clean. Honest.

"Our first job as adventurers... Heh, I’m actually getting pretty excited."

Once Victor was done picking the quest, he and Clara moved aside to wait for Lane to return. The guild hall buzzed with low conversation, tankards clinking, boots scraping against wooden floors polished by years of footsteps. Sunlight filtered through high windows, catching on steel edges and armor plates.

Victor leaned back against a pillar casually.

And looked at Clara.

Not briefly.

Not accidentally.

He studied her.

Now her clothes didn’t feel like tools - instead, they settled on her like something older. Unlike the light kit from below ground, this weighed differently. Full of quiet presence.

She wore plate mail that bent easily, fitting close without squeezing. Around her torso, the metal followed her shape - smooth, not sharp, clearly shaped for a woman. When she turned, the links underneath slid like water, covering hip and midsection. Protection stayed solid even as she moved fast.

A shape of metal hung easy by her arm, sitting level with the bone beneath like it had always been that way.

A flash of silver showed where the sword hung by her side.

Her stance carried the weight of warfronts long fought.

Clara noticed.

A hint of tension tugged at her purple gaze. It settled into a sharper look, just for a moment.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

For a moment, Victor stayed quiet. His head leaned sideways, eyes moving slow - not staring hard, yet measuring everything in sight.

A quiet grin began to show. It grew little by little.

"I was admiring your equipment."

Her arms folded tight, almost without thinking.

"Compared to the one you used when we went into that dungeon, the one you’re wearing now is so much better. Why didn’t you wear that when we went into the dungeon? If you were better equipped, you might have beaten that steel golem with less effort."

Her posture stiffened.

A flicker of guilt crossed her face, just for an instant.

She had judged him back then.

She had assumed.

Again.

There he stood - checking the strength of armor, studying how well it worked in battle, while others might have stared at her shape. A quiet mind, focused on function, not form.

Clara exhaled slowly.

"This armor was handcrafted by the ancient forge clan from Forge God Mountain," she said. "It was a gift from my father before I entered the knight academy. The weapons, on the other hand, are a family heirloom."

A spark lit up Victor’s gold-colored eyes when he heard the strange word.

"Ancient forge clan?"

Clara blinked. "You’ve never heard of them?"

A small motion of refusal moved through his neck.

A pause came first, then her eyes stayed on him awhile prior to speaking again.

Buried in the heart of Forge God Mountain, they live unseen by most. Folk tales call them dwarves, but that is wrong. These people are human, born from ancestors gifted with rare skill at the forge. Their craft runs in their veins, passed down through generations without pause. They rarely leave their mountain. Their creations are passed down for generations."

Her voice carried quiet respect.

"They say even an average craftsman from the ancient forge clan surpasses the best blacksmith in Skyfall Kingdom. And the greatest among them? Some claim their weapons can wound even divine beings."

Victor’s breath slowed.

Weapons that could harm gods.

Something ancient and dangerous stirred in him.

Just imagining holding such a blade—one forged to cut through divinity—sent a sharp thrill through his veins.

He masked it with a small nod.

"I see. Thank you for explaining."

Down went his eyes, first to the shield she carried, then shifting toward the blade hanging at her side.

"So your armor was made by the ancient forge clan. Then are your sword and shield also made by them?"

Not a single nod came from Clara. Her head moved sideways instead.

"No, they are not."

A shift in how she held it came slow, knuckles grazing metal without thought. Her hand moved like it knew before she did.

"They’ve been in my family for generations. They were forged long ago by someone... special."

Close by now, Victor moved just a step nearer.

Heat from his body reached her skin, so near he was. She stood within breath of touching distance.

It dropped quieter - no hint of tease, just purpose.

"They suit you."

A sudden glance lifted her eyes toward him.

"I already told you functionality matters more than appearance."

He smiled faintly.

"I’m not talking about appearance."

A small shift came into his eyes. Not much, but enough to notice.

"When you stand like this... shield raised, sword ready... your movements are sharper. More decisive. The spear you used before made you hesitate."

Clara swallowed.

He was close.

Too close.

She could smell faint traces of steel and something warm—like sun on stone.

"And what exactly are you implying?" she asked, attempting firmness.

Victor’s eyes flickered briefly over her stance.

"I’m implying that this version of you is dangerous."

A pause.

"And I like that."

Clara’s ears warmed.

She hated that she felt heat rising in her cheeks.

"I don’t need your approval," she snapped lightly, though her tone lacked real bite.

Victor chuckled quietly.

"Good. You shouldn’t."

He let the silence stretch a moment longer.

Then, deliberately, he shifted his gaze upward to her face instead of lingering lower.

He had noticed the way the armor accentuated her form. The curve of her waist. The steady strength in her posture. The subtle definition of muscle beneath steel.

But he didn’t say it.

Not directly.

Clara caught that restraint.

And somehow, that unsettled her more.

"You’re staring again," she muttered.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You’re wearing battle gear in the middle of a guild hall. Of course I’m staring."

"That doesn’t make it appropriate."

Victor smirked faintly.

"Then stop looking so impressive."

She stared at him.

Then scoffed.

"You’re impossible."

"Probably."

A small silence followed.

The tension wasn’t hostile.

It was charged.

Victor sensed the line he was walking.

He could push further.

Make her blush openly.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he stepped back casually and leaned against the wall again.

"So," he said lightly, changing the subject before she could retreat emotionally, "when we head northwest, what’s the terrain like?"

Clara blinked at the sudden shift.

Mountains. Focus.

She cleared her throat.

"The northwest mountains are harsh. Rocky slopes, unstable paths. There have been rumors of corrupted mana lingering there. Some say evil spirits roam the ridges at night."

Victor’s expression sharpened.

"Evil spirits?"

"Yes. And in older records... a necromancer once attempted to harness cemetery-born mana in those ranges. He was executed years ago, but remnants of his experiments were never fully eradicated."

Victor’s eyes darkened slightly.

Now that was interesting.

Not flowers.

Not bandits.

Not predictable beasts.

Unknown movement in cursed mountains.

He pushed off the wall.

"We’ll see what’s really there."

Clara studied him quietly.

"You’re not afraid."

Victor’s lips curved faintly.

"I don’t have the luxury of fear."

Their eyes held.

For a brief second, something unspoken passed between them.

Respect.

Challenge.

Curiosity.

Then Victor stretched his neck slightly and glanced toward the entrance.

"Lane should be back soon."

Clara nodded.

But inside, her thoughts were less steady.

Why does he look at me like that... and then not?

Why does he notice everything except the obvious?

She shook the thought away, tightening her grip on her shield.

Outside, footsteps approached.

Victor’s anticipation stirred again.

"Our first job as adventurers..."

He exhaled softly, golden eyes glinting with restless excitement.

"Heh, I’m actually getting pretty excited."