Rise of the Living Forge-Chapter 380: Monstrous

Arwin was relieved to see that Arnold’s team had survived the fight after Esmerelda’s interference. That said, he wasn’t surprised that the boy had originally been on a course for death.

He’d been stupid. A tournament wasn’t worth losing one’s life over, and Arnold’s team had known they were completely outmatched the moment the fight had started. Honor had kept the boy from throwing in the towel.

In a true fight, that was respectable. But for something like this… it was pointless. Dreams could never be crushed until the one who held them gave up their grip. Losing a tournament would do nothing — but losing a life would.

But that was youth. Arnold was an idiot, but most his age were. Childhood ended when those idealistic principles were crushed. Perhaps, today, they had been. Arnold had chosen not to hoist the magic sword Esmerelda had given him.

His team had lost because of that — and it was the right move. Something new could not be born when the old structure still stood. Now the slate had been wiped clean, reduced to rubble and ash.

Whether Arnold and his team laid in that ash and wasted away, or if they rose from it to build themselves into adults worthy of respect… that would be up to them.

Interesting. I wonder why Esmerelda took such an interest in Arnold. It certainly wasn’t because of his approach to life. Honor. Hah. Exactly like what all the young warriors that once stood at my side would proclaim to exemplify shortly before they were ripped to shreds in the war.

There is no honor in war. There’s only honor in man, and that honor doesn’t involve potentially getting your friends killed because you don’t want to lose a tournament round.

But if he learns his lesson from this… maybe he’ll become someone worthy of note.

“You’ve been really quiet,” Reya said, nudging Arwin’s boot with her foot. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Arwin said with a shake of his head. “I was just thinking. Nothing worth grumbling about and spoiling the mood with. Art’s team did a great job getting through Starforge. Olive hasn’t had a true challenge yet, but I’m curious to see how far everyone will get.”

“Olive is going to win,” Reya said without a second of hesitation. “I don’t care who goes up against her. She’s got this.”

“I have faith in her. She’s always been a very competent warrior, but now she’s confident in herself as well. As long as she can keep that arm under control, she’ll be able to do great things.”

Though the arm being under control may be more my responsibility than hers. Those last few fights… it definitely seemed to go a little nuts. Maybe I should look at giving it a tune-up after the tournament is done. I don’t want it causing Olive trouble.

Reya nodded, and they both fell silent as the next group took the stage. The sun rose overhead on its third trip through the sky since the Proving Grounds had started and the Secret Eye showed no signs of slowing anything down. Everything was in full swing.

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Rounds of the tournament wore on as they watched from their room. A few more people died as it continued, but the Secret Eye’s healers were nothing short of incredible. Their response speed and skill saved dozens of competitors from what seemed like they should have been fatal wounds.

Every single person that still remained in the tournament was a good warrior. None of the sacrificial teams were still participating. It quickly became apparent that there were two general groups that everyone who had made it this far could be classified into.

The first was the competent warriors that were reaching their limit. There was no chance these groups would win the tournament and they knew it — so they instead fought to prove themselves and get as far as possible.

But, among those teams, Arwin couldn’t help but notice that a number of them were actually relying heavily on a single piece of equipment. A pair of gauntlets that was disproportionately powerful in comparison to the rest of their equipment and armor; a chest piece that ignored damage that destroyed the rest of the suit of armor in an instant.

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Reya’s theory had been right. Arwin was certain of it now.

Necrohammer had distributed single pieces of his armor to nearly a dozen teams. He’d played his cards brilliantly. Every single group that bore his equipment made it far into the tournament before losing — and their loss was never because of their equipment.

Even Arwin found himself blaming the adventurers for their defeats, thinking that he could have done far more with the impressive armor than they could have.

And that was exactly what Necrohammer had been going for. The strategy was brilliant. When a team won, it was attributed to his armor. When they lost, it was because its wielders were incompetent, not because the armor was bad. He’d effectively eliminated any chance for someone to blame his inferior equipment for the reason why a group had been defeated.

This guy is brilliant. I’m actually in a bit of awe.

But, as impressive as Necrohammer’s strategies were, Arwin’s true attention was on the real threats remaining in the tournament.

Among the remaining adventurers was a second group.

The wild cards who hadn’t revealed the full extent of their strength. Olive’s team fell into this category, as did Art’s, albeit to a lesser degree. While Art had definitely played his biggest tricks, Kien had still yet to make his full strength known.

Among these groups were the monk and mage duo from the setting sun, the group of warriors in pitch-black armor, and Hein’s team.

All three of the latter grouping had yet to so much as struggle in a single fight. Every single one of them had mowed through their opponents without faltering once. The fights had been completely one-sided.

The victor of the tournament would definitely be one of the wild cards.

Arwin knew the identities of each guild but the group who all wore pitch black armor, who had identified themselves only as Blackguard. It wasn’t a guild name Arwin recognized — and that meant they were almost certainly the team that Necrohammer had fully outfitted.

Their strategy in each recent fight was to just walk right at their opponents. No attacks, no magic, had managed to pierce through their defenses. They’d just ignored everything on their way up to their opponents, who were usually defeated within a single exchange of blows.

I fully thought I would like the Setting Sun’s group the least. They’re associated with Twelve… but somehow, the monk and the fire mage actually seem decent enough. They haven’t killed anyone and always give their opponents a chance to surrender when the fight starts turning.

I hate to admit it, but they’re actually more merciful than my own teams. Not that I blame them for any of the kills. Olive hasn’t taken out anyone that didn’t deserve it, but it doesn’t change the fact that Setting Sun’s group doesn’t feel like they would have meshed well with Twelve at all. How odd.

In comparison to Hein, who was stealing the powers of every single person he ran through with his dagger, and the inscrutable Blackguard, Setting Sun’s team actually ended up being the group Arwin liked the most.

It doesn’t matter in the end. Everyone will have to fall if one of our groups is to win… and I should start thinking about what to do for the group that loses.

Elias and Maeve need to find a way for Elias to stabilize. Vix needs a fix for her heart, and Anna wasn’t able to repair something that considers itself whole. The Secret Eye will only help one of them. So what do I do about the other?

Arwin chewed his lower lip. It was seeming likely that he would have to make a replacement for someone’s heart. He’d taken great leaps and strides in his smithing in recent days, but that was a step beyond anything he’d tried thus far.

He hadn’t even had a chance to see his Soul Guardians or Weapons in action yet. But, given the strength of the remaining teams in the tournament, he had no doubt that he was going to get his wish soon.

Olive wasn’t going to be able to hold back any longer. Every single one of the remaining wild card teams would be one that forced her to go all out. There wasn’t even a guarantee she would win, even with the armor her team wore.

All we can do is wait and see.

Butterflies danced inside Arwin’s stomach as his fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair. He waited and watched.

Waited and watched.

Teams came and went, eliminating each other one by one.

The day ground on and evening encroached to cast the world in a ruddy orange hue. It danced across the sky and painted the clouds a swathe of shifting colors.

And then, finally, Kraven’s voice boomed through the arena bearing familiar names.

“We’ve seen some incredible fights today. Every single competitor that has made it this far has proven themselves to be among the peak of the Adept ranked warriors! Now, if you’re looking for something even scarier, make sure you book your tickets for the Weeping Grounds — a tournament exclusively for Expert through Grandmaster adventurers — but let’s not get ahead of ourselves! Let’s make some noise for our first round of the quarter-finals! Will Phoenix Circle please make their way onto the stage?”

The crowd roared, completely unbothered by Kraven’s shameless plug. Arwin and Reya both leaned forward. Neither of them said a word. Their attention was razor-focused on the arena below as Olive’s group made their way out onto it.

“And facing the very impressive, slightly bloodthirsty Phoenix Circle…” Kraven paused for a moment to let the tension build before flinging his hands out. “Blackguard! Take the stage! Let’s see what these two monstrous groups can do!”