Rise of the Living Forge-Chapter 393: Wait

A moment of silence hung in the air above the arena like an executioner’s axe. The distant, confused chatter of the crowd was nothing more than a buzzing drone to Arwin’s ears. They didn’t matter.

His gaze was completely focused on Necrohammer. The dwarf stood at the edge of the arena, every part of his body covered with heavy armor other than his raised left hand.

Necrohammer was helping him. Arwin wasn’t entirely sure why. He wasn’t sure he actually knew what the smith’s goals were at all. If he’d only come here to destroy Hein’s dagger, then that goal had been accomplished.

Putting his own neck at risk like this didn’t make sense. He didn’t know Kien. That much was clear from the surprised expression on the former hero’s face — and Arwin was certain the dwarf didn’t know Art or Vix either.

For Necrohammer to back me up like this… he’s not satisfied with just breaking the dagger, then. He’s looking to go directly against the guild. Somehow I’m not even surprised. Is there anyone they haven’t somehow fucked over?

Arwin fought to keep the smirk from appearing on his lips. Even though he’d wrapped his face with the cloak he’d stolen from Reya, he didn’t want to mistakenly give any of his thoughts away.

“There you have it,” Arwin said to the guildsman before him. “If anything, the victim here is Kien. He was forced to kill someone against his will — but that does not change what has happened. Withdrawal from the tournament right at the finals as well as the shame of today’s actions… I’d say that is punishment enough for being the tool of a murder he did not want to commit.”

The cloaked man’s knuckles whitened around the shaft of his axe. For a moment, the two of them stood stock still. Even though Arwin couldn’t see the man’s eyes with the darkness of his hood, he could tell he was staring right into them.

“You have no idea who you challenge,” the man hissed, his tone so low that only Arwin could hear him.

“Nor do you,” Arwin replied. His tone was quiet, almost soft. There was no need for him to speak harshly. If the guildsman wanted a fight, then Caldera would be more than happy to make his point for him.

A second dragged by. Nobody so much as moved. Not even Kraven said anything. The entire arena just stared on in equal parts surprise and confusion. They all watched and waited to see who would make the next move.

Then there was a soft scuff from the ground beside Arwin. He and the guildsman both turned as one, flinching in surprise as they realized that a new person had joined them in the arena.

A tall man stood beside them. His features were covered with the dark garb of the Secret Eye. And, even though a veil hung before his face, the man’s brilliant blue eyes were so sharp that it was impossible to not notice them.

“Enough,” the man said. His word was spoken gently, but with enough force that it forced every eye to turn toward him in an instant. “The Proving Grounds are not a place for squabbles. Any issues you may have are to be settled elsewhere. Necrohammer — you confirm that the dagger drove Kien mad?”

“I do,” the dwarf said simply. “It was a failed experiment. No power comes for free, and Hein was unable to withstand the intensity of the weapon. I believe we are all aware of the risks of powerful enchanted weapons. This should not come as a surprise to you.”

“It is the smith’s responsibility to ensure the weapons he puts out into the world will carve the proper legacy for himself,” the Secret Eye representative said. He shook his head. “There will be a reckoning for that, Necrohammer. You have overstepped your bounds.”

“The bounds of a smith are only the limits he places upon himself,” Necrohammer replied. “Strength is all that matters. Hein was weak. He could not wield my blade properly. Thus, it was taken from him. My buisness has handled itself and my purpose at this tournament has already been accomplished.”

With that, the dwarf slammed his gauntlet back down on his exposed hand. He turned on his heel and strode back into his viewing chamber without another world. The Secret Eye representative didn’t seem to be surprised at the smith’s reaction.

He turned to face Arwin and the guildsman, then let his gaze continue to pass over Art’s team.

“The Secret Eye accept Thornhelm’s resignation. The Secret Eye agree with Necrohammer and Ifrit’s assessment. Given the information that Necrohammer created the weapon in question, there is no room for debate. This matter is closed.”

Arwin could have bust out laughing.

Looks like we owe Necrohammer one. He made the damn daggers in the first place… but he used his own hands to do it, not somebody else’s like I had originally thought. I can’t tell if he’s on our side or not, but at the very least, he’s definitely not helping the Guild.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The guildsman stared at Arwin for a moment longer. Then he turned on his heel and strode away.

Arwin let Caldera lower as the Secret Eye representative turned to stare directly at him.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

“And you, Ifrit,” the man said. “Get off the stage. You aren’t meant to be here.”

Ah, whoops. Sorry, Selen. I did say I was going to stay out of the way. Hope that doesn’t get her in too much trouble.

“Already leaving,” Arwin said with a nod. He let his gaze linger on Art’s team for a moment before turning and striding back for his viewing room. Reya was still waiting for him in it, and he had no desire to draw any more of the Secret Eye’s attention to them than he already had.

Hein is dead… but Art and Vix are locked out what they came to the tournament for. Surrendering was a genius move by Art to save Kien’s life, but now he and Vix are going to have to pay the price for it.

He’s grown a hell of a lot from the kid that rolled up at the Devil’s Den and tried to threaten me with my identity. Just a short time can do quite a lot. I won’t forget that. Guess I’ll have to really look into seeing if I can make a replacement heart for Vix with [Soul Guardian].

***

Necrohammer lowered himself into his chair with a weary sigh. His body ached — especially his missing fingers. The past years had not been kind to him. That had been largely his fault. He couldn’t blame the world for that.

The old dwarf pulled his helm off and set it down on the ground beside him with a heavy thud. His gauntlets followed after it as he leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

There was so much left to do. Too many tasks left undone. Too many promises left unkept. Necrohammer knew the weight of unfulfilled duties more than most. He knew it well enough to know that there were very few who passed from this world into the next unburdened.

He would not be one of them. Necrohammer had made his peace with that.

But some burdens were too heavy to bring to the afterlife. His time ran thin, but there were a great deal of things that could be dealt with in a short amount of time when one had enough power.

In the end, it all comes down to power.

The corners of the old dwarf’s lips twitched. The Secret Eye had already gotten the tournament moving again. It had only been minutes since the last fight, but the crowd had already all but forgotten about it in their excitement for the upcoming finals.

The Secret Eye had done everything they could to buy time for the hype to build — and to capitalize on the time they had everyone’s attention. Kraven was yammering about something once more to his captive audience. It would be at least an hour before the final fight.

Dancing Phoenix versus Setting Sun.

Ifrit’s team versus One’s hopeful recruits.

It would be a fascinating one. Both teams bore some very impressive members — but as things were, Necrohammer already knew who would win.

The Setting Sun’s new members were at the cusp of Sunsetting their Classes. Their members were impressively powerful for the Adept tier. Even though their coordination wasn’t anything incredible, their individual strength was probably the highest in the entire tournament.

Olive had clearly yet to reveal the full extent of her abilities, but Elias and Maeve couldn’t use their full strength.

They would lose. Even with the incredible equipment that Arwin had crafted Olive, he did not see a way for her to carry the fight. Perhaps it would have been possible against two people.

The monk and the fire mage were the only ones that had made themselves present on the arena until now.

But Setting Sun’s team didn’t have two people.

It had three.

No. As things were, there was simply no way for them to win. Olive had been forced to reveal too much of her strength because of Necrohammer’s own team. She’d taken the dagger from them, then handed it off to Kien to finish his task for him.

“I suppose that puts me into your debt, doesn’t it?” Necrohammer mused to himself, his lips curling up into a faint smile. “If I could win you this fight, I would. But I don’t think that Elias would take one of my weapons. Not anymore.”

And that’s probably for the best. My art will die with me. It is not one that has ever done a single good thing in this world. The Dwarven Council are cowards… but they were right. Magic such as mine should not exist. Not in the hands of someone as weak as I.

Perhaps another smith could have done more. Could have done things differently. Necrohammer’s gaze drifted to the viewing chamber that Ifrit had leapt from.

The man had broken multiple of the Secret Eye’s rules in an instant the moment his allies were at risk. There hadn’t been a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He hadn’t left their fates to chance. He hadn’t run.

I couldn’t even act until he gave me a stick to clutch onto. Perhaps such a smith would have put this power to better use. Perhaps he wouldn’t have watched his allies fall and only found the strength to act after they had already died.

But thoughts were only that. Thoughts. They could change nothing. But, perhaps, he could. So long as Eleven held up her end of the deal, there was one last thing he could do before the Proving Grounds drew to a close.

Will she hold her word, even after I rejected the offer to join Setting Sun? I know I wouldn’t have. There’s no reason—

There was a thud from behind Necrohammer’s chair.

He blinked. His hand shot down and grabbed his helm from the floor, slamming it back down over his head before he rose to his feet and turned.

Eleven stood in the room across from him. And, lying unconscious at her feet, was Elias.

Necrohammer stiffened. It had been so long since he’d seen his old friend’s features. Even wrapped in bandages as they were, it felt unreal. He could feel the enchantment holding Elias together weathering at the seams. It was not long for this world.

“They know he’s missing,” Eleven said simply. “You will have to work fast. They’re looking. I do not expect it will take them long to find you, and I really can’t be bothered to throw them off your trail. You won’t get any more from me, Necrohammer.”

“Maeve and Elias found a team to rely on. Good. I was worried, but it seems my fears were unfounded,” Necrohammer extended a hand and black smoke poured out from a gem embedded in the center of his palm. It twisted around his fingers like a nest of writing snakes. The dwarf strode over to stand above Elias. “And don’t worry, Eleven. Just sit your tired ass down in my chair and watch. I have been working on this piece since long before we ever met. All that remain are the finishing touches.”