Rise of the Living Forge-Chapter 439: Challenged

Thoughts blurred through Arwin’s head in rapid succession as he did a remarkable job of keeping his expression perfectly flat — a fact that he deeply hoped Rodrick would have been proud of.

The dwarf wasn’t trying to challenge him at all. She was after Wallace. Or, at least, interested in him. He didn’t know for certain that Wallace was actually in trouble. Arwin wasn’t optimistic about his chances. What he knew about the way dwarves handled themselves didn’t paint a very pretty picture.

And she’s pretty damn accusatory. But Rodrick definitely would have warned me this was going on if he knew what she was up to. That means this dwarf kept her goals completely to herself and literally waited here every day, just to get a chance to eventually see me.

That isn’t the move of someone just doing some petty snooping. There’s something a whole lot bigger going on. Shit.

This really wasn’t the type of issue that Arwin had much training dealing with. Playing games like this was Art and Rodrick’s domain. But they weren’t here — and if Arwin backpedaled hard or went for help, it would immediately become obvious that he was hiding something. A lack of an answer was going to be just as damning as a bad one.

Screw it.

“What are you implying?” Arwin asked sharply. “Spit it out. All you’ve done is shown me a sub-par magical item and then gone spouting nonsense. If you’ve got an accusation, then lay it on the table.”

“You want to skip bandying words? I’ll oblige.” The dwarf’s lips pulled into a cold sneer. “Where’s the dwarf that’s been teaching you, boy? He has not obtained permission from the Council to create some… bastardized version of a dwarven smith. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Arwin said with a booming laugh. He raised his hands defensively as the dwarf’s features tightened in anger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude… but are you really implying that I need someone to teach me my craft? I am Ifrit. My teams just crushed one of the most competent smiths in the Proving Grounds — and even Necrohammer acknowledged my talent. What do I care about some idiots claiming their methods are better than mine?”

“Idiots?” The anger on the woman’s features turned to raw fury. “You dare insult the quality of a Dwarven Smith’s work? I wouldn’t expect a human to understand how to sing to metal. But your fool of a master should have taught you that we far eclipse anything that some pathetic human smith could ever create.”

“You think this little piece of crap is proof of that?” Arwin asked, plucking the hammer from the smith’s grasp with a small burst of power from [Scourge]. It was slightly harder than Arwin had been expecting. The dwarf was strong. Unfortunately for her, she was nowhere near as strong as he was.

The dwarf’s eyes widened slightly. She definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

“Your words do not align with the truth. That is the hammer of a master smith. One that I am quite certain you have seen before,” the dwarf spat.

Arwin’s lips thinned. They were getting too much attention from the crowd. Even if he managed to shut the dwarf down, it wasn’t going to matter if things got too out of hand. He had to handle this quickly… or get out of the public eye.

“This little piece of trash is barely worth using as a coal pusher. It would probably shatter if I swung it at my anvil once,” Arwin said. He extended his free hand to the side and summoned Caldera with a thought. The massive warhammer snapped into existence with a thrum and Arwin drove its butt down into the street beside him. “This is a hammer.”

“It is an unwieldy piece of trash,” the dwarf hissed. “You dare insult our sacred tools? Your teacher truly is a fool. The hammer you hold is worth more than anything you have ever made. It can withstand the very core of a volcano.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I tested it?” Arwin asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’d be willing to wager I could shatter this garbage in one move.”

The dwarf burst into laughter. “You think I’d ever let you swing—”

“Then a bet. Between a real smith and a garbage one.” Arwin’s lips pulled into an arrogant sneer. “One that decides which of us is which. If I fail to do as I said, then I will do whatever you ask. Answer any questions you have. You may consider me your lesser. But if I am right, then I will confiscate every piece of trash you dared to bring to my street and use them as scrap metal. You will never do business in Milten again. I can’t have people showing up on my doorstep to insult my work and challenge me.”

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The dwarf sneered at him. “You think talking big game will scare me? Come then, Ifrit. But you should know who you challenge. I am Ida, apprentice-daughter to Indrana of the Dwarven Council, and I am a Dwarven Master Smith.”

Excited murmurs passed through the crowd. Arwin was pretty sure they didn’t actually give a shit which of them won. People were just excited about the drama. That was just human nature. Nobody was going to object to a show getting put on for them.

Unfortunately for the crowd, the show wasn’t going to last long.

“Why would I care?” Arwin asked.

“I suppose it was remiss to expect a human to understand dwarven customs,” Ida said in disgust. “Whoever taught you needs to be imprisoned. Your lack of understanding shames them worse than I ever could have realized. It is customary for Dwarven Smiths to introduce themselves before a challenge.”

“But you already know who I am. I don’t need an introduction.” Arwin’s lips twitched in amusement. “I am Ifrit. And that is all that matters. Now, allow me to add a title to your list.”

“Come, then. Let us see your anvil,” Ida said. “I will enjoy watching you fail.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Arwin said, barely able to hide the dark amusement in his tone.

He opened his mouth. Then he raised the hammer up to it, sticking the tool’s head into his mouth.

Confusion and disgust passed over the Dwarven Smith’s features. “You ape! Get that out of your—”

Arwin bit down. There was an instant of resistance as the magic within the hammer fought back against him. But it wasn’t enough. His jaw clenched.

The hammer shattered.

A tsunami of power flowed down his throat and into his body. The tool had been powerful. It slammed into Arwin’s gut like a physical blow, nearly knocking him off his feet. Every single scrap of will he had went into keeping from doubling over — but the look on Ida’s face might as well have been a reinforcing spell.

Ohh, that hit the spot. The Hungering Maw is going to love this one. It’s practically a three course meal. Haven’t eaten like that in a while. Delicious.

Ida’s mouth hung open in disbelief. She stared in horror at the stump of her hammer. She reached up toward it, the fingers of her hand twitching as her mind battled with what her eyes had seen.

“This wasn’t even worth using as a toothpick,” Arwin said, dropping the remains of the hammer on the ground. It struck the cobblestone with a resounding clang, clattering to a stop before Ida. “I don’t suppose you brought a second one of those? I almost feel bad winning so easily.”

The Dwarven Smith fell to her knees before the hammer and scooped it up like a fallen child. For several seconds, the smith said nothing. She stared at the useless piece of metal in her hands. All the magical power within it was gone.

“How?” she whispered. “What have you done? This is impossible. That hammer… it was older than you are. It was stronger than you. How could you do that?”

She couldn’t even finish the sentence. The horror and stunned disbelief enveloping her features simply wouldn’t let her speak another word. In all fairness, it was probably pretty difficult to watch what should have been an object nearing the power of an artifact to get chomped in half like a crunchy banana.

Don’t worry, Ida. The hammer didn’t go to waste. It was really tasty.

“I did as I said I would,” Arwin said flatly. “Arrogance must be earned. Yours was not. I have a great deal of respect for Dwarven Smiths — other than yourself, of course. But I am no mere Dwarven Smith. You should have taken a different approach. My techniques are not what you believed them to be. They are far, far older. You have paid the price to discover that. I hope it was worth it.”

“What are you?” Ida whispered. “You ate metal. That—”

“A party trick,” Arwin said with a laugh. “And a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets. In truth, I just snapped the head of your hammer off with just my jaw. But I’d say it makes for a good show, doesn’t it?”

The crowd jostled. Murmurs rolled through it as the adventurers started to chuckle. Not one of them had the faintest idea as to how powerful Ida’s hammer had actually been. They had absolutely no reason not to believe Arwin’s words.

“Get out of here!” an adventurer called. “That was pathetic! He ate your hammer! Seriously, how do you recover from that?”

“Maybe she can get it back when he shits it out,” another one said with a chuckle. “No way I’m buying anything from her, though. Goddamn. If a barbarian had done that, I might have been impressed. But a smith? Ifrit’s stuff is impressive but come on. He doesn’t have the jaw strength to bite a whole ass hammer in half. That thing must have been a piece of crap.”

Ida’s hands clenched into balls. Her gaze raised to meet Arwin’s again.

In turn, he arched an eyebrow.

“Leave the cart on your way out, unless you want to waste time taking all that crap off it while the crowd laughs at you,” Arwin said. “Feel free to go tell your mother who you lost to. Maybe she’ll send someone politer next time. I’d be happy to deal with them again. I can always use more scrap metal.”

“I am not some squabbling child who runs to her mother at the first sign of defeat,” Ida hissed, pushing herself to her feet.

“Is that so?” Arwin tilted his head to the side. “Then get the hell off my street. This challenge is over. You lose.”