It's been a year since I had to leave in favor of my studies. Now, when the final exam is over, and I have some time to spend on my stories, I have returned home, and with a story to go for it. This is my most complete work yet, that originally started on forums under the pen name Argeus the Paladin, and as of now, I would like to share it with everyone here on , who have fallen in love with Adventure Quest just like me, and who share the same love for writing and sharing as I do.

Disclaimer:

1) Lore, Battleon, and all related characters, events and quests are property of Artix Entertainment, LLC. I do not own any of them, nor am making any money or profit in the creation of this fanfic. In short, this is a project done out of interest ONLY.

2) References to Final Fantasy VII characters and events are made on a discretized basis.

This story is going to be the first part of a trilogy, beginning with the tale of a simple smith called Sukaku (Anyone learning/knowing Japanese will see instantly that this is the translation of Scakk, a significant Moderator on Battleon forums) to create a weapon to destroy the 'Galin, but its main concern is with Artix. The name of the story suggests that by the end of the trilogy, Artix will become a god (Kuriaaga no Ajisu Artix von Krieger in the same way). Right now, I am working on both the first and the second part, but for some reasons, the second part shall not be improvised before I can reach an agreement of sort with Versilaryan and maybe even Falerin on the content.

I can only say for now that the first installation will be a fusion between magic, technology and science, to create what I coined "Alchebra". As of now, only 6 chapters had been done, but sooner than enough I would see all this done. Please read and be free to give me any opinion on the story. I thank you all for your concern.

Battle on!

Chapter 1

Limit and Reciprocal

Sukaku Araku, the old blacksmith rested his head on the pillow, smiling contentedly as he let his gaze on an aimless wander across the fields and meadows, so that they could capture every bit and piece of the traditional beauty of Lorian countryside. His smile didn't come without a reason- stretching in front of him as far as his age-worn eyes could see was the pinnacle of peace and quietness a man could hope for, wherein cute, puffy and woolly sheep were grazing happily away on the meadow of green grass laced with a multitude colorful butterflies, while the refreshing chirping of early nightingale provided ample entertainment for any artistic soul in the background. A short distance away from that perfect harmony was an even more pacific sign- schools of pigeons were there fluttering about the chickens' feeding ground, eating from the same stash of grain as their domesticated cousin in an act of avian brotherhood of the highest order. The smell of freshly reaped hay was omnipresent, and together with the fact that the communal grain warehouse had been filled to the top marked the milestone of yet another excellent harvest.

As Sukaku twisted and turned on his hammock, gazing at the peaceful scenario, he realized the true meaning of paradise... a place where one could stop, smell the flowers, and enjoy life in its most primitive meaning. His life is wearing away everyday due to his old age, but as long as he could stay in this place for his remaining time, with his nearest and dearest, his life would never be wasteful.

"Grandpa!" a young, high pitched, but very gentle and loving voice unexpectedly sounded right beside the dozing man, and he turned back only to find himself faced by his beloved granddaughter, Lilina.

"Okay now, Lily. What is it again?" the old smith asked his nearest and dearest warmly. Her purplish hair shone perfectly under the sun, and her deep blue eyes... was an exact replica of her grandmother. Now that the old smith had outlived his less fortunate spouse, and both his children were far, far away, his granddaughter was his only friend and relative therem enjoying the peaceful life with him.

"Grandpa, could you help me with this work?" Lilina asked, sticking out a sheet of homework paper.

"Let me see... Is it Maths again?" Sukaku asked, knowing what the answer would be- his granddaughter was by no means a mathematician.

"Yes, grandpa, I am not sure about this..." Lilina pushed the sheet of paper into her grandfather's hand, "Please, grandpa, please?"

The old smith looked at the piece of paper his grandchild just pushed into his hand. As he unfolded the sheet, the old smith gave out a cry of both interest and astonishment. On the sheet of paper as rosy white as his grandchild's cheek, lay a mathematical question that he didn't expect to see, "What is the limit of 1/x2+4x+6 when x approaches infinity?" As if a bolt of solid energy had struck him and knocked him out cold, the smith sat still as soon as he closed his mouth, his gaze wandering away from his grandchild, presumably into a distant world- a behavior Lilina had never seen of him before. For an instance, the old man literally stopped living, and instead floated into a realm of dreams and speculation, something young Lilina couldn't understand.

"Grandpa?" Lilina asked worriedly, "Are you hurt?"

"No, dear... It was an old story... An old story that was brought back..." Sukaku replied distantly, as he slowly lowered his eyelid, "Lily, I need to rest for now... I am sorry I can help you no more with your homework"

"Are you sure you are alright, grandpa?" Lilina continued.

"There shall not be too much problems with me..." Sukaku said, "I wonder if you could go and check on the chickens for me..."

"Alright, grandpa..." Lilina replied obediently, before pulling a blanket to cover her grandfather and left.

As Lilina left his grandfather for the chicken barn, the old smith Sukaku slipped fully from reality, before getting finally lost in his own chain of thoughts and reminiscence...

"Limit...Reciprocal..." was all what could leave his lips before he thoroughly lost consciousness.

The village hall was full of people, which was not a ver usual sign in the little faraway village of Salacar, considering that Salacar itself enjoyed not so much of Lore's blessings of life. Not many people lived there, and at its peak, some time before the most recent Dwarven Gold Rush drew more than half of all residents from their happy-go-lucky lifestyle, the village enjoyed a population of less than four dozens. Located near a barren canyon with little water for irrigation, as well as having no special trades to speak of, no resources to mine and harvest, and that no mage would ever come there, Salacar was fortunate to be still standing until that day. After the Gold Rush, the town was even in a bigger mess- a village would be as dysfunctional as an understaffed factory when barely five households inhabited there, with dwindling production and still more diminishing interaction.

And yet on that day, the village hall was filled to the top- a very uncommon, and very unrealistic to speak of. Still stranger, most of those occupying a seat in the dilapidated hall weren't residents, as shown by their dress code. Leather clothing and large sacks of merchandise, as well as the considerable number of horses and donkeys tied up outside around the place gave their identity away- traders and caravaneers having come from as far as Battleon to seek out maximum profit, being even more illogical.

The look of things revealed that an auction was about to take place soon, as everyone was facing a podium in the very center of the room, where a muscular, tall and rather handsome man was standing, possibly giving out order for people to calm down, and keep quiet. his rather frightening look meant that he didn't have to yell much- holding an imposing smithy hammer in one hand and an even bigger sack that kept clattering as he moved it about was about the most striking features. His handling of the bag was exceptionally painstaking- he moved it as carefully as he would move his own baby son. The man's long, messy hair and hammer, as well as the over-the-top muscular build revealed much to everyone what his profession was.

After a good deal of leaving people to wait to maximize their eagerness, the man started untying his sack, and skillfully drove his bare hand into the opening. To everyone's horror, he started to pull out from the sack blades, knifes, swords, hammers as well as a large axe, holding on them by the edge. After the last item had been released on the large table in front of him, the man raised his hand high, twisting it a few rounds so that everyone could take a good look- there were no injuries at all. The stunt alone was able to draw much adrenaline from the audience, and the village hall sooner than enough started quaking under the full force of all the applause and shouts of approval.

"Legendary, legendary! That is godly hands you've got there!" a bald caravaneer in the corner of the room shouted heartily.

"Sukaku Araku, we will buy from you at any price, just state it!" cried a bearded merchant directly in front of the acrobat.

"We will buy all! Everything!" an old trader shouted at the peak of his voice, "Sukaku! Let us have your weapons!"

Sukaku Araku said nothing, apart from giving out an arrogant smile of accomplishment. He could not be less pride of himself, as apparently he was the only person significantly pulling Salacar together. Legendary even among the most skillful smiths of Lore, his skill was the result of both family tradition and personal dedication, and, in some aspects, even superior to that of Versyl Raryano, one who would be well known later for tutoring both Yulgar and Adder in the forge's way. His powerful and extremely skillfully crafted weapons became a vital part of many lords and nobles' arsenals long before his 30th birthday. Before long, all the more famous weapon shops around Lore carried his weaponries into their back room as specialties. Needless to say, traders and caravaneers all over Lore would do whatever they need to get to him and his freshly made artifacts, regardless of where he stayed. Unfortunately for the traders and fortunately for Salacar, Sukaku was extremely stuck with his hometown and refused to leave no matter what. And as long as he counted himself amongst the stubborn handful who would not leave Salacar, the village would still live on indefinitely, having constant visitors and a constant tax income.

In a matter of minutes, all the weapons he laid on the table had been sold, at prices anywhere from five to ten times what the smith offered. Still, not all of the caravaneers got the honor, and some had to but utter some swear words and head back to their caravan empty-handedly. The scenario had always been like that. Sukaku never mass-produced his weapons however highly priced they could be, whatever he forged was no longer a weapon, but a serious work of art whose beauty and efficiency no one could deny. When less than twenty pieces leave the forge every year, their quality would be unquestionable. Since the rebirth of Lore, never before had the lands seen such a brilliant, yet so thoroughly artistic blacksmith.

Though Sukaku could not allow any commercialization of his arts, he could still afford some arrogance and over-the-top pride. That was why the very moment the last caravaneer left the room, Sukaku started laughing contentedly as he poured the gold coins into a glittering stream of gold, that seeped through his fingers and clattered noisily on the table- the glittery sound of fortune and wealth. As much as he made it a priority to spend all but a bit of his money to purchase materials to make more weapons, the sound of gold always rejoiced him as much as it would entertain any lowly, ignoble merchant.

"Ha, I am afraid I am the best out here... so much gold..." Sukaku cried joyfully as he tossed a handful of coin over his head.

"Not quite," A sullen voice from the village hall's gateway instantly stunned Sukaku in his track, "You are, as far as I know, NOT the legendary one, or not one yet"

Sukaku reactively turned to the door to face his challenger, and was more than astonished- there at the gateway stood an apparition-like figure of a man, with a mass of beautiful golden hair and held in his hand a huge hammer- twice the size of his own, which didn't appeared logical at all, considering the newcomer's slender body. The guest looked straight into Sukaku's eyes upon stepping inside, a gaze so stern and cold that it made the skillful smith turn away almost at once- the kind of accusing gaze that would force one to requestion his morality. Sukaku's great sense of self-esteem quickly gave way to anxiety and nervousness as the man moved closer and closer to him.

"Who.. who on Earth are you?" Sukaku questioned nervously. To avoid the cold gaze, Sukaku could but look at the man's feet, but as he did, felt a cold chill running down his shoulder- the man had no shadows, a quality only visible in a ghost.

"Kuraodo," the newcomer answered coldly, "is my name"

"O..Okay, K... Kuraodo... Are you a ghost or something?" Sukaku nearly lost control of his own voice, "What do you want with me?"

"Ask yourself," the spirit called Kuraodo smirked, "Do you want to become the legendary smith? Do you want to craft someting so unique that no one else could recreate it again?"

"Why not? I am going to do that anyway," Sukaku's self-esteem grabbed hold of himself again as he stood up straight and returned Kuraodo's look, "So... you came here to buy my stuffs?"

"If I wanted," Kuraodo said, "I can get one like yours anywhere"

"Look, mate, even kings and queens would want my weapons. They are unique!"

"Your weapons, however good they are, are just made to kill humans," unraveled Kuraodo, "What a legendary weapon is, however, is different"

"How? Weapons used to finish monsters in a hit?" Sukaku asked impatiently, "I have that too!"

"No. A legendary weapon is one that can be used to kill a god," Kuraodo answered, "A god-slayer"

"B...Blasphemy!" Sukaku nearly backed off in horror, "How could you say such a thing? Humans and animals were created by all the gods you know..."

"Some gods are just and fair, I know that, and are vital for the existence of this very world," Kuraodo replied, "But if there were an evil god, would you think it'd be better to finish him off once and for all?"

There was a pregnant pause as Sukaku racked his brain for any clue. Apparently his parents, his grand parents, even his ancestors didn't show him in any books of something such as a godslayer. He himself had never heard of it before, and he didn't think it would be fit to even discuss that. But still, what Kuraodo said was more than disturbing... it was true.

"I guess you're right, mate," Sukaku finally replied, "but... I heard that a god's power is infinity... how could one face a god's might?"

"Haha," Kuraodo burst out laughing, to Sukaku's dismay, "I didn't expect the greatest smith of Lore to be that mathematically retarded. Interesting, very interesting indeed!"

"I would demand an explanation, Kuraodo, unless you want me to bash your skull in," roared Sukaku, grinding his palm on his hammer furiously.

"No offense, Sukaku, but you must revamp your Maths knowledge," Kuraodo said sarcastically, as he handed Sukaku a sheet of paper, "Until you can answer me this question"

"What the...?" Sukaku took the piece of paper, and looked through it. On the paper was one single question, in block letters: "WHAT IS THE LIMIT OF F(X) 1/X AS X APPROACHES INFINITY?"

"What is this all about? Are you trying to joke me about?" Sukaku said, puzzled, "What does it have to do with a godslayer?"

"What is the answer?" Kuraodo asked persistently.

"Anyone having finished 10th grade would know the answer is zero. And I am not that retarded," growled Sukaku, "Now, tell me what is it that you want with me"

"Now you have learnt the way to kill a god, Sukaku," smirked Kuraodo.

"I don't understand," Sukaku replied, slamming his hammer on the table.

"I agree with you that a god's power is infinity. But algebra has its way of turning infinity into a round, cuddly zero," Kuraodo explained, "Its essence is like this. Assume that a god's power is the variable x, what you must do is to put that x into the denominator. With a "lim" sign as a final blow... I think even a child would understand what I mean..."

Sukaku stood stunned for some time. Was the task of god-slaying that easy? But no, it wasn't... Sukaku didn't quite see any way how such a thing could be done...

"Easier said than done," Sukaku difficultly replied, "Is that even possible?"

"Do you want to do this, Sukaku-sama?" Kuraodo looked at Sukaku in the eyes again, before asking very politely, "Please answer that question first"

"Of course!" Sukaku replied firmly, "But I don't know how..."

"This is not the place to talk," Kuraodo said, "If you are interested, I'll show you how at a later date."

At that last word, the so-called Kuraodo disappeared, leaving Sukaku to wonder for himself...