Seth's eyes glowed with an amethyst hue…
His blood ran scalding hot, beads of sweat bled from his pores, all while Seth remained confused.
[The Core Origin of the Grand Weapon Maester is weapon crafting!]
[???? Became the lords of all weapons not by wielding but by crafting. As his descendant you bear his mantle, you are ready to smite the anvil!]
[The hammer as will, the anvil as your world, you are ready to bend the very meaning of creation!]
[You have returned to your roots! Title 'Grand Craftsman' has been allocated!]
Seth felt a pulsing headache. He grabbed his head as a rushing influx of information streamed into his mind.
Metal refinement techniques, tempering arts, forging methods — all of it poured like a raging stream into his mind.
Branding themselves as though they had always been there, a part of him, becoming more instinct than knowledge.
The glow in Seth's eyes burned brighter, his grip over the hammer grew tighter.
