"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin"

The warm glow of the forge crackled softly from the back of the shop, casting shifting golden light across the stone floor of Emberlight Forge. Seraphis took a few steps forward, the soles of her boots clicking faintly against the smoothed stone as she glanced around the interior of the shop.

Her eyes, sharp and curious, swept across the displays. There were swords neatly mounted on the walls, axes lined up with precision, and even a few custom-shaped daggers with artistic flair resting in glass cases. Every weapon gleamed, well cared for, and humming with a faint magical residue—nothing overly showy, but just enough to suggest fine craftsmanship.

Seraphis turned her head slightly toward Thalor, who was watching her silently with interest.

“You're pretty good at what you do,” she said at last, her tone calm, but there was a trace of admiration there. “If you don't mind… can I take a closer look? I'm actually a blacksmith myself.”

Thalor raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised—but pleasantly so. “Sure,” he said with a nod. “Go ahead.”

Seraphis stepped toward a nearby rack and selected a long, curved blade—an elegant saber with a gleaming silver edge and a bronze-forged hilt. She held it with a practiced grip, then gently raised her free hand over the blade. A soft hum stirred in the air around her fingers.

With a whisper, she cast her spell. “Aetherial Appraisal.”

A faint pulse of arcane energy flickered outward from her palm. It spread over the blade like ripples in water, then shimmered before glowing a vibrant green.

Thalor leaned forward, eyes widening slightly.

Seraphis nodded to herself. “Nice,” she said with calm approval. “Judging from this, I can tell you're at least Magic Tier 6. Your blacksmithing techniques are refined. Clean, methodical hammering. Enchantment layering is stable. Tempering is evenly distributed across the blade.”

Thalor blinked. “Thank you… that means a lot.”

He paused for a moment before curiosity got the better of him. “That spell… how does it work?”

Seraphis looked down at the glowing blade, then back to him. “It’s called Aetherial Appraisal. I created it myself,” she said, placing the saber gently back in its rack. “It’s different from the usual appraisal spells you see around.”

She stepped to the side, facing him fully now.

“The basic idea came from the standard Appraise Weapon spell—those ones most smiths learn early on. But those are limited. They mostly rely on a rigid set of parameters: surface analysis, mana residue, material alignment. They don’t account for deeper layering—things like microfractures in the internal structure or spell-stability against time degradation.”

She lifted her hand again and projected a faint magical circle in the air—a shifting sigil of silver and pale blue with interlocking rings.

“My version modifies the foundational matrix. I added three extra glyph sequences that let the magic ‘read’ the internal structure of the weapon. It senses mana conduction patterns, material resonance, and even the subtle presence of the blacksmith’s intent—if the forge and enchantment were in harmony during crafting.”

Thalor stared at her, clearly impressed.

Seraphis turned toward the saber again. “This blade here… it’s forged from Cold-Iron Steel as the base. That’s what gives it its bluish shine when the light hits just right. Good for anti-magic resistance. The core reinforcement layer feels like Volcanite Dust

She walked slowly along the wall, trailing her fingers thoughtfully along the glass display.

“The hilt is wrapped in Moonhide Leather, rare… harvested from dusk wolves. Good grip, slightly mana-conductive. And the runic etching along the guard—Elven Flame-Tongue script. You either carved it yourself or had someone very skilled help you—it channels energy along the weapon like a conductor, feeding the enchantment back into the blade’s flow.”

Thalor stood in stunned silence, his mouth slightly open.

Seraphis finally turned back to him, her expression calm but confident. “That’s the level of reading Aetherial Appraisal provides. It’s not just about what the weapon is—it’s about how it was made, how it feels, and how it responds to the world around it.”

She folded her arms neatly.

“The spell’s custom algorithm lets me see every detail I need. But it’s not just analysis—it’s interpretation. That’s why it’s green—it means good quality, structurally sound, well-balanced, and forged with strong intent. If it were yellow, I’d say it had instability or structural weaknesses. If it were red… well, that’d mean something is dangerously wrong with the weapon.”

Thalor finally exhaled. “That… sounds way different from normal appraising magic.”

Seraphis gave a small nod. “It is. I just used the foundations of the regular spell and added more. Adjusted the flow structure, changed some glyph paths, and incorporated a mana resonance wave to enhance depth scanning. It took me three months of trial and error… but it was worth it.”

Thalor was silent for a long moment, then smiled genuinely. “That’s… incredible. No one’s ever broken down one of my blades like that. Or made a spell like that either.”

Seraphis smiled faintly—just a sliver.

“It’s always good to understand what you're holding,” she said simply. “Especially when it’s made with care.”

And just like that, the shop was filled not just with the warmth of the forge—but with mutual respect, glowing steady like the emberlight between them.