Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin was equally relieved and disappointed to see that neither Olive nor Art’s teams were among the first ten that were selected to participate in the melee. Being forced to fight in the very first round of the tournament, no matter what kind of fight it was, would be nerve wracking.

Though if only one team can advance from these brackets, then the worst case scenario is for the two of them to be in the same melee. I’m relatively sure that shouldn’t happen. Purely statistically speaking, that’s quite unlikely. There are 500 ranked guilds. Even if the Secret Eye only invited half of them, there would be at least 25 different melee rounds. I suspect they invited a whole lot more than just half… so the chances of getting two of my teams in one round is pretty low.

For that matter, a large part of Arwin wondered if he’d recognize anyone. If many of the highest ranked guilds had been invited to the Proving Grounds, then there would be a number of people that might have interacted with him before.

Though… who? Basically everyone I worked with is dead. Unless it’s the upper management of the Guild, I don’t think I’d recognize anyone. That’s just sad.

“Whoa,” Reya said, oblivious to Arwin’s internal monologue. She leaned forward in her chair and peered down at the arena below, where the teams had each taken an equidistant position from each other at the edge of the arena. “Look at them!”

Arwin followed her gaze. Even though there were quite a few people gathered on the arena, it wasn’t hard for him to figure out which group she’d spotted.

While every other team had three people in it, this one only had two. One seemed to be a monk. He wore white robes that had been tied at the wrists and above his ankles, leaving it to hang baggily without getting in the way of any potential movements. The man was bald, the only hair on his face being thick eyebrows that framed calm eyes. He was seemingly unarmed.

His companion was a short woman. Her hair, really more of a fiery mane, nearly completely obscured her face and features. It hung all the way down to her back, and she held a huge staff that was nearly a foot taller than she was with both hands. The tip of the staff was tipped with a dull blue gem. It might have just been the lighting, but Arwin could have sworn the gem was shimmering from within.

“Good chance she’s got a weapon,” Arwin said with a nod.

“And anybody that shows up to a tournament without a weapon is probably worth paying extra attention to,” Reya added. “It takes a certain kind of bold or stupid to do that. He must be really confident.”

“I suppose we’ll see,” Arwin said. He squinted at the duo to see if he could make out any details about the guild they were from, but they were just too far. It wouldn’t matter. If they won this round, then Kraven would reveal their origin when the tournament got around to the normal fights.

And, just on time, the announcer’s booming words echoed through the arena.

“Everyone is in position,” Kraven called. “You know what that means! Fighters, at your ready! And no casting any forms of magic before the round starts. If you want magic defenses, put them up after I say go.”

He waited for a moment to make sure everyone had understood him. Arwin saw more than a few people in some of the teams lower their weapons — they’d definitely been about to try to cast magic early.

“Right then!” Kraven boomed. “No more waiting! Get to it! The first round of the Proving Grounds starts now! Go!”

Chaos descended instantly. Every single team in the arena burst into motion as one. Bolts of lightning cracked. Fireballs screamed through the air and metal clashed against metal. A translucent dome-shaped barrier shimmered around the arena as stray spells flew wide, striking it like droplets hitting the surface of a lake.

If anything, Arwin was most impressed by the barrier. The amount of magical energy it must have taken to create something like it must have been astronomical. There were a hell of a lot of awry spells. Being able to hold up against that couldn’t be easy.

I’d be willing to bet they’ve got a bunch of mages powering that from somewhere.

Speaking of mages, there were quite a number of them ringing the arena. Most wore white robes and carried large pouches at their sides. Arwin was fairly certain they were healers — which was definitely wise. If the Secret Eye didn’t want to ruin the rankings they spent so much effort making, they’d have to make sure most of the combatants didn’t end up getting killed or permanently maimed in their tournament.

And those healers were needed almost instantly. A man ran another one through with his sword and kicked him off the edge of the arena. The wounded man passed through the barrier as if nothing was there, blood seeping into his clothes.

It didn’t look like the wound was immediately fatal, but several healers rushed to him immediately. Magic lit at their hands as they rushed to the man to tend to the damage he’d been inflicted with.

The man was the first, but he was far from the last. The melee was so chaotic that even a talented warrior could go down out of nowhere. One after another, people fell. The healers raced through the arena, grabbing the wounded combatants, dodging the hail of magic, and flitting their subjects to safety.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

That’s quite impressive. Moving like that… it almost seems like battlefield training more than mere tournament healers. Either that or they take their tournaments very seriously.

Kraven was yelling something as well, but Arwin had already tuned the man out. He didn’t have anything important to say right now — the announcer was just yelling about people getting brutally cut down.

The crowds loved it, but Arwin had long since grown tired of bloodsport. He’d seen enough people die in the war. He could appreciate a good fight as much as anyone else, but this was no honorable measure of skill. It was just a battle.

Really, the smart move here would be to hang at the edges of the fight until everyone else wears themselves out, then finish off the remaining warriors. Going gung-ho in a brawl like this just paints a target on your back.

Arwin’s head tilted to the side. There, standing near the side of the arena, barely having moved from their original spot, were the monk and the mage that Reya had taken notice of. It seemed they’d come to the same conclusion as Arwin.

Of course, that doesn’t mean nobody will pay them any attention. Once a few teams fall and the others realize there are people just sitting around…

And right on time, someone cried out and thrust a finger at the two standing in wait. Several other people let out angry complaints. It wasn’t hard to imagine why. Everyone else was fighting for their right to be in the tournament, not just standing around.

Definitely not going to make them any friends. Suppose we’ll get to see if these two actually know what they’re doing or not.

A large, axe-wielding warrior charged the monk. His weapon ignited in molten flame as he swung it, aiming to take the monks legs out in one fell blow.

The monk didn’t so much as budge until the strike was mere inches away from him. Then he sprung up like a coiled spring, vaulting clean over the axe. His leg snapped out in a kick that landed solidly on the warrior’s chest.

A translucent shade exploded out of the warrior’s back. Arwin’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, squinting to try and get a better look. It almost looked like the monk had literally knocked the man’s spirit clean free of him.

The translucent form slammed back into the warrior. He staggered, then pitched forward and crashed to the ground without another move. The monk simply took a step back to the spot he’d been standing in before. Not once had his expression changed.

What the hell was that? I don’t even know what he did. That kind of magic doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before… but I’m also becoming abundantly aware of how little that really means. The Guild kept me sheltered.

It seemed that Arwin was not alone in his surprise. A moment of pause gripped the arena. But these were professional warriors. It only took a moment for the other teams to process what had happened. This was a challenge in which only one group could pass — and the monk had just painted a target on his back.

There was no point ignoring him. He’d have to go down at some point, and so every single team came to the same conclusion at the same time.

Anything strange was something that could catch them off guard. And if they could be caught off guard, they could lose.

Thus, the monk had to go.

Four people charged in unison, and a mage sent a large bolt of frosty ice hurtling in his direction.

“He probably shouldn’t have revealed so much of his power,” Reya observed.

Arwin didn’t have time to respond.

The monk exploded into motion. He reached out and grabbed the bolt of ice, twisting his entire body in a full circle as he sent it hurtling straight back at its caster. Without waiting to see if it had collided, the monk flowed past the four attacking adventurers.

Arwin barely got a chance to see what the man did, but they all crumpled in his wake. Not a single one of them even had a chance to try and return an attack.

And, as the Monk turned to walk back to his ally, Arwin caught a glimpse of something on his chest. A plain line of silver that ran vertically across his chest, right above his heart.

And just like that, icy hands gripped his shoulders. The only reason he could easily make the insignia out was because of its simplicity — but Arwin had seen this insignia before. He’d seen it on Twelve.

“Shit,” Arwin whispered.

“What is it?” Reya asked, peeling her eyes away from the arena to look at him.

“The monk is with Setting Sun,” Arwin said grimly.

“Oh,” Reya said. “Shit.”

He nodded. “Time to get to work.”

Reya blinked. “Work? What do you mean?”

“We aren’t here just to watch,” Arwin replied with a faint smile. “You brought the item I made for you recently, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then this is a good time to use it. They don’t think we can leave this room, but this is the perfect opportunity for you to figure out who’s at the tournament and what the hell is up with some of our opponents. You did say you were good at sneaking around, right? If you’re not comfortable with it—”

“I basically snuck out of my mother’s womb, Arwin. I can’t cross-dress like Rodrick can, but I can guarantee nobody’s going to so much as take a second look at me as I walk right past them. You just caught me off guard. You want to spy on the other teams? That’s surprisingly…”

“Unfair?” Arwin asked, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. This isn’t to help Olive’s team. It’s for our own purposes.”

“Oh. Well, that makes it completely fine then,” Reya said, sounding completely serious. She gave him a sharp salute. “Consider them spied on.”

“Reya,” Arwin said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Be careful. This task should suite you, but don’t get caught. And don’t overextend.”

Reya grinned at him. “Arwin, I’ve been sneaking past people that don’t like me for years. I mastered it long before I ever met you. I’ll be fine. Now, check this out.”

She backed up until her shoulders were pressed up against the wall behind her. Then, with a final salute and a wink, her body shimmered and turned translucent. She slipped straight through the wall and vanished.

Arwin stared at the spot she’d been in a moment before, then glanced back to the arena. The only two people that still stood in it were the monk and his companion, who hadn’t even used her magic once. Neither of them had so much as a smudge of dirt on them. It had been a complete and absolute victory in their favor.

His lips pursed.

Looks like this tournament might be a bit more interesting than I was expecting. I wonder how our teams will hold up against opponents like those.