Rise of the Living Forge-Chapter 372: Example

The rest of the steam vanished from the stage, revealing one of the twins standing a dozen paces away from Kien and the crumpled body of her sister. She held her daggers before her defensively, the cocky arrogance that had been present on her features no longer anywhere to be found. The only emotion that remained now was fear. Fire crackled across her knuckles, marking her as Ash.

“How did you know where she was?” Ash demanded, taking a step back and swallowing heavily. “You shouldn’t have been able to see us!”

“Why would I need to see you?” Kien tilted his head to the side. “Your magic is not very effective when your breathing is so loud that I can hear you two dozen feet away.”

Healers rushed onto the stage, practically kidnapping Lilly from the ground at Kien’s feet before darting away. Ash’s eyes tracked them, but it was too late to do anything. Her sister was out of the fight.

“That’s bullshit,” Ash snarled, her gaze snapping back to Kien. “There’s no way you heard us. We’re completely quiet. What kind of class do you have? How much did Thornhelm pay to get an expert like you?”

“I don’t think it’s very customary to reveal your abilities during a fight,” Kien said. His face remained perfectly flat as he spun his broom around and lowered into a fighting stance. “I believe we were in the middle of something.”

“Whatever they’re paying, we’ll double it if you stand aside,” Ursa called. “This is a fight between our guilds. There’s no reason for you to build bad blood between yourself and the Starforge Guild. Art brought outsiders into our fight.”

Art’s lips thinned. He’d honestly been expecting Ursa to pull that card earlier. And, if Ash was completely honest with himself, that was exactly what he’d done. Kien was only half of the outside help he’d gotten.

But part of knowing how to win was knowing when you were completely outmatched. He and Vix had no way to deal with Starforge themselves. And at the end of the day… Art didn’t give a shit about playing above the board.

As long as he won, nothing else mattered.

“You think you can buy me off?” Kien asked with a chuckle.

“I’ve yet to meet a man who doesn’t have a price. All that remains to be debated is the cost,” Ursa said. “Starforge is a powerful guild. I’m sure you’re aware of who we are — but we can’t go wasting all of our resources this early on in the tournament. Thornhelm isn’t worth it. I don’t know how they managed to hire someone that can hide their strength as thoroughly as you, but I’m certain that—”

“The only currency that I will accept is blood,” Kien said sharply. “And it is not blood that you can pay. Art, please wrap your end of things up quickly. I am not interested in wasting words on this sort any longer.”

“Well, you heard him,” Art said. He rifled through the deck of cards in his hands. “Time to wrap things up, Ursa.”

The armored mage gritted his teeth. “Ash, get rid of the masked one. No holds barred. Just deal with him immediately.”

“Are you sure? What about—”

“At this point, it doesn’t matter. Winning at a cost is better than losing,” Ursa snarled.

Ash gave him a sharp nod. Then she reached up to her neck, hooking a finger around a thin necklace that hung around it. With a sharp jerk, she snapped the metal chain.

A wave of heat rolled across the arena like a physical blow, driving into Art and nearly sending him staggering a step back. The fire crackling across Ash’s hands ignited with a whoomp as a pillar of fire enveloped her entire body.

The flames vanished as quickly as they had arrived, but Ash had been changed in their wake. Sleek black armor had appeared all over her body. It was trimmed with a brilliant red crystal that glowed like a miniature flame and been trapped within it. Even her face had been covered by a spiked helm.

Delicate embers twisted off the armor and floated into the air before fading away. Heat rolled off the armor, intense enough that Art could feel it from the other side of the stage. She wasn’t wearing just any old enchanted armor.

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It was powerful.

“You’re right,” Ursa said, baring his teeth in a cold smile as he looked back to Art. “You’ve already managed to waste enough of our resources, boy. It’s impressive that you managed to get someone that competent on your team. I’ll give you credit for that. But I’ll happily oblige your request. This ends now.” 𝙍Ἀ𐌽ỐＢƐ𝙎

Black lines raced across the porcelain surface white of Ursa’s armor in sharp, zig-zagging patterns. They connected to each other as a loud humming noise filled the air. The debris and rubble at Ursa’s feet, left over from previous fights, begun to tremble. It clattered against the ground before lifting into thei air; the hum grew louder still.

Art’s fingers pinched down on a card in his deck. He didn’t know what Ursa was doing and didn’t have the faintest desire to find out. The magic rolling off the larger man was so intense that he could feel it buzzing against his skin before anything had even happened.

Shit. I can’t straight up stop this because I don’t know what it is I’m stopping. This isn’t a magic I recognize. This is bad.

Sections of Ursa’s armor separated and lifted into the air, suspended in place beside him like a miniature asteroid belt. They too begun to tremble as they shifted through the air, spinning faster and faster until there was a streak of blurred white fragments whirling around Ursa.

The man shifted his stance, lowering his center of mass and lifting one hand before him; palm outward. His other palm moved in the opposite direction as he drew in a deep breath, eyes glinting.

That’s a monk’s stance. What kind of magic is this?

“Art,” Vix hissed. “Do something!”

“I can’t counter him,” Art hissed back. “We need to bait the attack out. Just get ready to dodge!”

“No,” Vix snapped. Her voice was as taut as a wire. “I know you’re all about informed action, but I’ve got the instincts you don’t, and I’m telling you we’re fucking dead if he attacks. Cash your cards. Now.”

“Too late,” Ursa said, his lips pulling into a sneer. “Count yourself lucky that you get to see this. It’s a masterpiece of a weapon. I had no plans to use it on scum like you, but you’ve played far better than I expected. You’ll pay for that.”

With a roar, Ursa raised his front foot and drove it back into the ground. He clapped his hands together with a resounding crack. The move was almost like something from a tribal dance.

Art gritted his teeth. Playing his hand now was as good as throwing the fight. If he didn’t have a trump card, he didn’t have a strategy to defeat Ursa — but the stress in Vix’s voice ripped through his carefully laid plans like a knife through butter.

He shouldn’t be able to kill me instantly. As long as I survive this attack, I win. Attacking now is objectively the wrong move.

It was Vix’s instinct versus his logic.

And when those two clashed, there was one that Art always trusted over the other.

Ursa ripped his hands apart.

Art snapped his fingers.

The card on the ground behind him burst into flames, burning away in an instant.

Magic ripped through the air of the arena. The swirling streak of blurred white armor fragments circling Ursa’s body exploded, sending razor-sharp debris screaming through the air toward Art and Vix.

The attack was so fast that it would have been completely impossible to react to. Art’s eyes couldn’t even follow the magic… but he hadn’t waited to respond.

Power slammed down on the arena as the gravity in the area surrounding Ursa magnified with a deep thrum. Stone cracked from the sheer force of the magic as a thousand tons of force slammed down in a circle around the man.

Ursa slammed to his knees with a loud crack, his eyes going wide in disbelief. A dozen more loud cracks echoed through the air as his armor pieces, which had all been caught within the area of his own magic, were smashed into the stone floor of the arena along with him.

Driving a fist into the ground, Ursa ground his teeth and forced his head up to lock eyes with Art. His entire body trembled with effort as he fought back against the immense gravitational pull trying to drag him to the ground.

“You stole my ability,” Ursa growled. “What kind of magic is that? How can you just steal other people’s powers?”

A droplet of cold sweat rolled down Art’s back. If that last attack had made it to him, it would have ripped his body to shreds in an instant. Even with Arwin’s armor, his head and neck were still exposed. He and Vix would have been dead or severely maimed — just like that.

“Repurposed,” Art corrected.

I didn’t steal his magic. I just borrowed it once, and now my card is spent.

“Should I go for the kill?” Vix whispered.

Now’s as good a chance as any. It’s not ideal, but —

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Ursa’s hand slammed into the ground. His entire body trembled as he let out a roar and started to rise, legs trembling with exertion. He was pushing back against the gravity.

It was Art’s turn for his eyes to go wide. Ursa’s magic was powerful. He was a mage, not a warrior. The gravity hadn’t even started to weaken yet. Resisting it so easily should have been impossible…

“Your gear,” Art said, realization igniting within him. There was only one way that Ursa’s team could be this strong, and it wasn’t their own skills. “Who made that armor?”

Ursa’s lips split into a cold, determined smile as he raised fully to his feet and forced a hand into the air. The fallen pieces of his armor ripped themselves free of the arena and flew back to spin around him, ignoring the increased gravity completely.

“Do you like Necrohammer’s work?” Ursa asked, his hand slowly clenching into a fist. “Soul Items are really something else. You haven’t seen the half of it, boy. But don’t worry — you’re about to get the chance to. If you’re going to force me to play this card, then I’ll just have to make enough of an example of you to ensure nobody else tries to challenge us.”