Ginrius looked around the area, but for all the neat facts shelved in his brain, he didn"t have the foggiest on what to do next. Hephaestus was the original G.o.dsmith, which meant he never had to clean-up after a dead predecessor. "Remind me again how I"m suppose to fix all the forges in the world?" he asked his guide. "Local runs alone are giving me a headache.""You should learn to relax—G.o.dsmith," Hermes answered.
"This coming from probably the most impatient G.o.d there is?"
The messenger G.o.d pouted. "I"m not impatient—you are simply insufferable."
"Whatever."
"Do you want me to help you or not?" said Hermes, sounding a lot like the ant.i.thesis of his claim. "Because I don"t have to—you just have to rack Hephaestus" memory to get it—eventually."
"I already did that."
"You have to go deeper—This isn"t a normal routine for my brother—He knows what to do but never really needed to do it."
Digging deeper into a G.o.d"s subconscious, under this much pressure, didn"t sound appealing in the slightest, so Ginrius apologized and accepted the offer.
Hearing this, Hermes regained some gusto. "Great then—It"s quite simple actually—all you have to do is billow this mountain back to life and you"re done."
Said mountain dwarfed Olympus by a good margin, making the feat seem more frivolous than even going around lighting things back up one by one. Regardless, Ginrius decided to play along. "Alright then, how do I do that?"
Hermes gave him a quizzical look. "I don"t know—aren"t you the G.o.dsmith? My job is to relay messages—fight wars—and at most—point clueless ones like you in the right direction—Between you and Hephaestus" legacy—I"m sure you"ll figure it out."
The messenger then disappeared, leaving Ginrius but a mental post-it. "I"ll return when you"re finished—give you your next labor and all that—remember that even a halfwit like Heracles performed impossible feats—and he wasn"t even a G.o.d back then."
With that, the last of impatient Hermes departed, and Ginrius was left to solo the literal Heraclean task before him. It was a major b.u.mmer. And the part where he had several other duties didn"t work as pep.
***
For a while, Ginrius sat to ponder on his choices. He noticed for the first time how the volcano was teeming with metallic deposits, and how the air smelt of sulfur. It prompted him to tour the area further. Wounding up on the core, he found a floating, blackened matter he imagined once wreathed in fire. The idea clicked into his head then: Maybe this Haphaestus-owned volcano acted as power source to all forges around the world, and when the G.o.d died, with no-one left to pay the bills, everything was caught in the resulting blackout.
If that was true, all he needed to do was rekindle the fire of the core using his newfound gifts. He was by extension the G.o.d of fire anyway, and he was sure he would be able to produce it if he tried hard enough. On that note, he also knew the standard mortal fire would not cut it—he needed to light a divine bonfire or something of that scale.
Since then he tried everything, from chanting to the dead core, ma.s.saging it, to pumping on it like first aid to a stroke victim. Nothing worked. At the end of this course, the only fire he was able to produce was the one that burned him from inside out, more commonly referred to as frustration.
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If anything, Ginrius discovered that he now didn"t tire out of exertion, and that his strength caused the earth to shake and crumble. He felt like he could do anything—he just needed to figure out how. That"s when he realized that the Hephaestus hammer was actually hanging on his belt, mayhap by Hermes" sleight of hand. He thought he would try bashing the core in once more, see if that worked.
But as he approached his quarry, he realized something else. He remembered the metallic deposits cramming the area and figured he could produce fire even without magicking it. He mined huge chunks of ore and started striking them with his hammer; the sparks of which made embers glow on the surface of the core. Not even that was not enough, however, as the embers produced died too soon.
He was no blacksmith before, but he was at least knowledgeable of the tools for the trade. Now that he was G.o.d to the craft, he knew he could do it a notch higher. If he lacked the tools, he could just create them. It"s also true that he wasn"t there to build blades and mails either, he was just there to start a fire.
Meaning bellows.
That was all he needed, a functioning, t.i.tan-sized bellow that could grow infant embers into something nuclear. And that"s just what he set out to do. With a near-infinite supply of ores, all he needed now was a flexible material for the bellow itself.
A trip down the neighboring forest supplied him with leaves, wood, and plenty of vines. But he needed something else, something more pliable than all of the above. He prospected further, all the while thinking it weird how the place felt empty, devoid of life save for its flora. The looming volcano appeared to be the culprit, though it was very unlikely.
In his continued search, he discovered the reason for the absence of wildlife in the area. And even as a G.o.d, the sight of a giant boar that looked more monster than animal, gave him the shivers.
***
An ordinary hunter would have settled for deer hide, or a stag"s if he was feeling lucky. But Ginrius was not exactly a hunter, nor was he ordinary. The monster boar was an aberration, disrupting the natural order, and moreover, ruining a nice forest stroll for human and lesser beasts alike. As a deity, he felt obligated to tend to the matter somehow, and since he was yet to connect with some mortal champion, he thought he would add it to his priority list.
He stalked the monster for a while, studying its features like a proper scholar. Its tusks jutted over its head, doubling as a horn in both purpose and aesthetics. It had eyes of constant fury and barbwire mane. Some of its other lethal implements included metallic hooves, a tail that wagged trees off the ground, and a breath that probably did worse. It was also a safe bet for the hide to be damage resistant, otherwise, it would be riddled with scars from territorial dispute.
As a G.o.d, there was a high chance that he could outwrestle it, but since he had the element of surprise, he decided to take full advantage. He drew Hephaestus" hammer, aimed, and threw it as hard as he could, surprised from the fruit of his effort: the tool flew like a ballista, swooshing with a clamor, wrecking everything that got in its way.
When it hit the mark, the shockwave caused even more damage, producing a new, circular clearing from the point of impact. It was amazing. But even more spectacular was how the monster withstood such terrible blow.
It looked very p.i.s.sed as it traced the offense to this puny, hammerless G.o.dsmith, who had a.s.sumed a defensive wrestling form.
"Here goes nothing," Ginrius muttered as he prepared to engage.
The monster boar wound up for the charge, and had even advanced a few strides off. Then it dropped dead, skidding down from the sudden loss of momentum.
Ginrius breathed a sigh of relief before picking his up hammer. Fighting monsters was not really his thing—yet.
***
With the materials collected, Ginrius was able to build just the tool he needed. He repeated the process again, only this time, he pumped wind to the embers that began to form.
The whole place lit up like New Year"s Eve. Lava started seeping out of the ground to reform its lost lake, eventually submerging the now glowing core in its depths. But that was not all; Ginrius also received a surge of power, far greater than that gifted by Hephaestus" hammer. Now he legit felt like an Olympian: mighty and absolute—well, almost.
"Wow, look at your skin glow—faith and worship really does magic on your complexion."
A renewed Ginrius looked up to see Hermes doing the slow clap.
"Now that you"re at full power—It"s time to do some serious work—follow me," the messenger added before jetting further up the sky.