Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

Chapter 1110. Might and Money



<Ding! You have received the buff <Arcane Abnorm>! +100% Mana +250% Mana Regeneration for 5 minutes>

<Ding! You have received the buff <Herculean Physique>! +150 to all stats for 5 minutes>

<Ding! You have received the buff <Harbinger of Destruction>! +600% to all damage for 3 minutes.>

<Ding! You have received the buff <Fortified Bulwark>! 30% of phys. damage is negated for 5 minutes>

<Ding! You have received the buff <Touch of the Hydra>! All attacks are imbued with deadly poison for 10 Minutes>

<Ding! You have received the buff <Quick Thought>! Cooldowns are halved for 10 Minutes>

<Ding! Your Weapon was imbued with <Agony>. Attacks cause 10 times the pain and have a 40% chance of causing mental status ailments.>

...

Despite the incredible power flowing into him, Caleb was frustrated. He had hoped to be able to save some of the equipment for the next round. He had bought the best stuff money could buy from the auction house. Had this left him in crippling debt? Yes. But this was worth it. Especially if he ended up winning the legendary weapon. Then even signing the 10-year contract with the Turquoise Anvil would have been cheap.

But Dumm Ting had proven too strong. Even if he blew his load now, he couldn't lose here. He had to win, for Polter and for himself. Even if he could not win the tournament, he had to win this fight!

“Hoho, do you really think those talismans and light effects can impress me? No matter what you do, you will end like your midget friend!” Dumm Ting laughed confidently. Caleb simply attacked. he would make him regret letting him power up.

A simple step forward, carried the knight as if he had used a charge skill. Wind pressed in his face and Caleb was barely able to cope with the incredible rise in stats of the scrolls, on top of the potion and transformation buffs. As a consequence, he slightly missed his mark. He aimed to sever Dumm Ting's arm again, but he only grazed his shoulder.

Satisfied, he saw the expression of absolute shock in his opponent's face from the corner of his eyes. When he had rushed past the cultivator, the stadium was shaken by an incredible scream of agony. Looking back, Dumm Ting was holding his arm, staring at him in confusion and shock. Tears were streaming down his cheek.

“What did you do to me just now!?” he exclaimed accusatory. Caleb looked at the lance. Maybe he could have held back on the scrolls. Was <Agony> this effective? The knight also saw dark veins spreading from below Dumm Ting's hand. The deadly poison was also taking effect.

“Are you already regretting letting me use the scrolls?” Caleb asked joyfully. He had not even used <Wyvern Might> to stop Dumm Ting, yet the cultivator had been barely able to react to his attack. Maybe he didn't have to use all the scrolls, but it was already done. He could just as well enjoy the next few minutes.

It was unknightly to bully the weak, but it was very chivalrous to punish evil. It was punishment time. Caleb didn't feel shame for the joy he felt, seeing the despair in Dumm Ting's eyes. Over and over, Caleb attacked, covering him in wounds as his howling filled the arena.

...

After the dragon knight buffed himself with the power of money, the fight turned into a one-sided beating. Dumm Ting could barely defend himself, and the stadium was filled with his screams of anguish, his hopeless crying and begging for mercy, his begging for death to escape the pain.

Whatever Caleb had used, it had completely messed up the villain. The unilateral destruction pleased most of the audience, though most didn't enjoy this kind of display, nobody argued that he didn't deserve it.

Finally, after roughly 4 minutes of suffering, Dumm Ting died from the effects of poisoning. At this point, his whole body had turned dark from poison, and covered in necrotic wounds. It was no pretty sight and people were glad when it finally disappeared from the arena.

Although death was not final in this arena, nobody doubted that Dumm Ting was a broken man.

“So how much did you actually lend him?” Seth asked intrigued when Caleb was announced the winner.

The blacksmith was not a fan of consumables in general and preferred permanent effects. On one hand, he had been living in a world without magic for most of his life. He just didn't know the heights that consumables could take one to and thus never considered it a viable option.

On the other hand, he never thought the buff potions were necessarily worth it. Even when he felt like Mr.Moneybags, he never saw a consumable he thought was worth the money. Even good ones were usually very expensive with a relatively short duration. But seeing Caleb's sudden change in power made him waver.

Jane started sweating a little.

“F-five thousand gold,” she answered hesitantly.

“!!!” the room was filled with silent shock by everyone but Master Mountain, who didn't really have an idea about how much that was. Yep, this just confirmed why Seth never really got into consumables. Yet, the power of the scrolls the dragon knight had shown didn't fully lose their attraction for Seth. After all, it couldn't be that he spent that much on just the scrolls, right? Having some high-rated consumables as a backup didn't seem like a bad idea.

“Jane... Do you know what scrolls Caleb used?” the blacksmith asked interested.

“No, but I can ask him when he comes to report later,” she said hurriedly.

“Why would he report to you?” Mina asked the finance manager.

“Of course, because he works for us now,” Jane answered with some pride, pulling out a contract.

“So that's why you agreed to give him a loan,” Seth understood, reading the contract. The magic contract was relatively simple and kind of fair. Caleb took a loan of 5000 Gold from Minas Mar, in exchange he had to work for them for 10 years to pay it off or pay double of the remaining debt to get out of the contract earlier.

Best case, Caleb would work 10 years for them for almost nothing, or they would get back 1.5 - double the amount invested.

“Well done, Jane,” Seth praised.

...

A person, wearing an identity-concealing robe entered the betting booth. The room was filled with people, their voices becoming a thick noise. He walked past them, picking up snippets of their conversations.

“Who would have thought that the knight could pull it off? I was quite awesome,” someone said jolly

“Awesome my foot! I lost almost 200 silver because of this!” his conversation partner exclaimed in frustration.

“And whose fault is that? I told you not to bet on that asshole cultivator. You heard what he did to become so strong,” his buddy blamed him with a laugh.

“Is it wrong to want to make some money with a save bet? Emma will kill me when I get home.” the other said, close to crying. it seemed that those silvers were his whole savings. Similar conversations could be heard in the room.

Many were frustrated about the loss, but they couldn't argue, that it was good that Dumm Ting lost. Those who had actually bet on the Dragon Knight were especially happy. With a win rate of 1:7, they made back seven times their investment.

The robe silently approached the counter, placing their betting lot before the bookmaker. Reading the little piece of paper, the staff's eyes widened.

“Please come to the back. It would be better to handle such a sum away from prying eyes,” the staff members suggested, asking the robe to enter a private room. Caleb hesitated for a moment, but he followed anyway. He needed his winnings.

To lessen his debt Caleb had actually bet on himself, using the rest of his loan. He bet a whopping 350 gold, which meant his earnings were around 2450 gold. With this much start capital, he would be able to lessen the time he was bound by a contract to maybe a year or two.

Some smart investments here, some hard work there. Even if he didn't win the tournament, two years of contracted labor were still worth the chance that he could have won. had he known Dumm Ting was this strong, he would have preferred meeting him only in the finals.

“Oh my, Caleb. Funny meeting you here.”

A joyful voice greeted him as he entered the private room. Sitting on the comfy sofa were Jane and Mary sipping on drinks. His heart slipped down to his pants.

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