Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin set his newly made chestpiece down and brushed his hands off on his stained clothes as he sent a mental note of acknowledgement to the Mesh, summoning forth his new skill options so he could take a look at what his efforts had earned him.

You may select one of the following skills.

[Manifest Anvil] – Condense magical energy into an anvil that drops upon a target location. The weight of the anvil is proportional to the amount of magical energy spent on this ability. It may be used to craft items but cannot be summoned in a location where another physical object is already present.

[CURSED][Soul Guardian]: Draw upon the connection between yourself and the Infernal Armory, temporarily melding your spirits into one and inserting them into a Soul Guardian that can be activated when the armory is under threat. The Soul Guardian’s strength is magnified by your own and is strengthened by any materials within the Infernal Armory. For this ability to function, a Soul Guardian must be crafted. The Soul Guardian is powered by [Soul Flame], and a portion of the damage it takes is transferred onto you.

[Shatter] – Focus a large amount of magical energy into a single strike, empowering your next strike significantly. Using this ability will temporarily weaken your body until it can recover the spent energy.

[Magmamancy] – Enhance your control of lava and gain the ability to manipulate it as effortlessly as you would an arm. The amount of magical energy needed to maintain this ability scales exponentially with the amount of lava being controlled.

Arwin’s eyes widened as he finished reading over all of the ability options, and there was only one thought that came to his mind once he’d had a moment to process everything.

Holy shit. That Cursed Ability is insane. A guardian whose power is magnified by my own? That doesn’t even mention the power that goes into it from other items within the forge. It’s basically an infinitely scaling defense system that gets more and more powerful the stronger I get and the more items I make within the forge.

The potential there is almost unfair. It does come with some significant restrictions — I can’t use it when the armory isn’t under attack and I take some of the damage it does, but does that even matter if the Soul Guardian is so strong that it doesn’t take much damage in the first place? I’d be using it in a situation where shit has really gone south.

Arwin did still take a moment to make sure he wasn’t missing something on one of the other options. They weren’t bad per say — and the Mesh was definitely screwing with him on the first option.

[Shatter] seemed like a powerful berserker skill, but he had ways to hit really hard already and this one weakened him after the attack. It wasn’t worth taking over [Soul Guardian].

[Magmamancy] was as good of an option as always, but he still didn’t have a consistent way to access lava in a normal situation. He had a way to get some while he was inside the Infernal Armory, but that made it a skill that competed directly with [Soul Guardian] — and the latter was better.

If [Magmamancy] shows up again once I have a way to actually get lava in the middle of a normal fight, it’s absolutely worth grabbing. But for now…

There was basically no contest. [Soul Guardian] was completely without competition as the best skill. He just had a single thing giving him a moment of pause.

“How do I make a Soul Guardian?” Arwin muttered.

There was a sharp breath to his side. The red mist that marked the presence of the Infernal Armory’s presence twisted as it turned to Arwin.

“What?”

“Oh, I was just reading one of the new ability options I got,” Arwin said. “It says I need to make a—”

“Take it,” the Armory said, its voice as sharp as blade. “Forget the rest of the options. Take that one.”

“Why?” Arwin asked, tilting his head to the side. “I have no idea how to make a Soul Guardian.”

“I do,” the Armory replied. “It is an extension of my body. A physical vessel. It is mandatory to our continued growth. Such a power cannot be denied.”

“How do you know about it?” Arwin asked curiously. “I thought you only have information that I do.”

“I did not know of it until I heard the words. They awoke something,” the Armoy responded. There was a note of unease in its tone. “The Mesh revealed it to me as you spoke. The Soul Guardian will be an enormous boon to us. Take the skill.”

Arwin studied the red mist for a moment. He’d been planning on taking the ability anyway, but he wasn’t sure if this made him more or less eager to take it. The Infernal Armory didn’t tend to show interest for many things other than crafting powerful weapons.

Well, if it knows how to make a Soul Guardian… we need the strength. The Menagerie is drawing a lot of attention. The Tavern has been packed as of late, and I know Monica has thrown more than a few people out already. Hiring her was a good idea — but I shouldn’t get off track. We’ve got eyes on us, and we need defenses for when someone inevitably tries to pull some shit.

Stolen novel; please report.

Arwin made his decision. The Mesh faded away as his new [Soul Guardian] skill appeared within his status screen. He dismissed it with a thought, letting a slow breath out through his nose as he picked the piece of armor he’d just made up.

“What time is it?” Arwin asked.

“Late afternoon.”

Just in time for dinner. I’ll finish the Ivory Executioner Set tomorrow, then.

“Thanks,” Arwin said. He donned his new chestpiece and bound it with [Arsenal], then banished it with a thought. It didn’t have anything concealing its status since it wasn’t a Cursed item, so he couldn’t show it off in town until he finished the whole set.

The Armory’s presence faded away as Arwin strode out and across the street, rubbing his hands together eagerly. First, he had to take a bath.

Then it would be time for dinner. It had been some time since he’d gotten a chance to properly catch up with the rest of his guild, and he was eager to see how things were going.

***

Hein’s stomach clenched like he’d swallowed a fistful of obsidian shards. His hands were tense at his sides and his shoulders so stiff that he could have shattered stone with them. His footfalls echoed through the dark cave, joined by three sets of others.

A man and a woman walked by his sides. They’d arrived at his cabin several nights before alongside Mask, who had introduced them as Jack and Jill. No part of Hein believed that those were their actual names, but he didn’t care enough to ask.

For the past few days, the only thing his thoughts could dwell on were the knife that he held clenched in his right fist. The knife, and it’s intended target — the man clad in enchanted armor walking directly in front of him.

“It’s been so long since you reached out,” Kien said with an easygoing chuckle. He carried a beautifully carved sword in one hand, faint blue light running through grooves embossed into its surface. “It feels like we were kids the last time we did a dungeon together, Hein.”

“We were,” Hein replied tautly, trying to keep his emotions from seeping too far into his thoughts. His mind was a mess, and blood pounded in his ears like a war drum.

“Well, we should do it more often. It’s nice to know you remember me,” Kien said. “You never reply to my letters. I was getting concerned, but there were just so many things splitting my attention. It feels like the entire kingdom forgot that not every single blasted issue needs an adventurer to fix it.”

“Yeah?” Hein asked, biting back bitterness. “Well, this one needs an adventurer. The best one.”

“So your letter said. Demon took up residence at the bottom of the dungeon, right?” Kien’s sword flashed through the air before Hein even got a chance to see what was happening. A river of gentle blue light followed in the weapon’s path, illuminating two halves of a shadowy monster as it split apart and splattered to the ground. Kien continued talking as if nothing had happened. “How’s adventuring been for you?”

Gods above. I didn’t even see that thing there.

Neither Jack nor Jill said anything. They weren’t the talkative sort.

“Fantastic,” Hein lied. “I’ve gotten invited to the Proving Grounds, actually. I’m finally going to make a name for myself.”

“Truly?” Delight tinged Kien’s tone, and it filled Hein with disgust. More falsehoods. More lies. Kien was an expert at them. The charismatic bastard had everyone dancing at his fingertips, but Hein knew the truth. He knew what his brother was.

“Yes,” Hein said.

“That’s great. I’ll come watch to cheer you on,” Kien said. A flicker of something dark passed through his tone. “I got an invitation as well, but I’ve turned it down. My team disbanded over some issues with the Adventurer’s Guild. We disagreed over the… execution of a few things. Nothing to worry about, mind you. You’re independent though, right? You don’t have to worry about any crap like that.”

“Fully,” Hein said. His grip around the hilt of the dagger tightened. As if he’d ever swear his fealty to anyone but himself. As if anyone would offer him the chance.

They all fell silent, and the only sound in the darkness of the cave was the echo of their footsteps against the damp floor. The smell of stale water permeated the air and wormed into Hein’s nostrils.

Patches of luminescent moss were few and far in between, only occasionally granting any light to the darkness. In the fleeting grace of their light, Hein caught Jill staring down at his side. At Opportunity.

Jack was staring straight at him. Mask’s silent friend didn’t need to say a word. Everything he could have wanted to convey was held within his eyes.

It was time.

“Huh,” Kien said as he came to a stop and cast his gaze around the room, back still turned to Hein. “That’s odd. We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I think this is a dead end.”

There wouldn’t be another chance. Time was of the essence. Hein’s life was waiting for him. His future was waiting for him. One where he wasn’t just Kien’s brother. He could be something more.

Hein’s hand dropped to Opportunity. He drove the stiletto forward in a smooth, practiced strike.

And just like that, the blade punched into Kien’s back. Sparks flashed from the man’s enchanted armor as Opportunity drove through it and into his flesh like there was nothing there. A stunned gasp, like all the air had been driven from Kien’s lungs to make room for the dagger, pushed free from his lips.

Kien’s entire body stiffened like a plank of wood. He pitched forward and struck the ground with a heavy thud. At the same time, Hein’s own back stiffened. Not in pain, but in ecstasy. His lips parted and he staggered, the breath catching in his throat as power poured into him. It was incredible, like he had dipped his hands into a river of lightning.

And then it was done.

It couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds. Hein hadn’t been counting. He stared down at his hands, his fingers trembling. Adrenaline and disbelief pumped through his body like drugs.

I did it. I can’t believe it. I did it.

“It is done,” Jack said in a tone as lifeless as the desert, and Hein realized that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.

“We should dispose of the body,” Jill said, her voice a perfect, female clone of Jack’s.

A flash of anger burned through Hein’s chest, but he smothered it. They didn’t understand. Anger was for the weak… and he wasn’t weak anymore. He could feel power roiling within his body. Kien’s — no. His power. It was rightfully his.

Blood spread across the floor of the damp cave and soaked into the bottom of Hein’s boot. He glanced down, his lip trembling slightly as it curled up.

How does it feel, Kien? To be the weak one?

One of Kien’s eyes had shifted. It stared up at Hein, the light behind it fading fast. There wasn’t a single trace of anger borne within his gaze. There was only disappointment and betrayal.

Suddenly, Hein felt sick.

“We’re done here,” Hein snapped, turning on his heel. “Mask is waiting for us.”

Jack grabbed the hilt of the stiletto protruding from Kien’s back and pulled the blade free. “What of the body?”

“It’s the middle of fucking nowhere. Nobody’s going to find a corpse here,” Hein snapped, already striding toward the exit of the cave. His stomach fought to push its way up through his throat. If he stayed in the cave any longer, he feared he would throw up.

Kien doesn’t matter anymore. This is my life, now. It’s mine to live… and I’ll start by doing by winning the Secret Eye’s tournament.

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