Rise of the Living Forge - Chapters 217-218 (Patreon)

Lunch went by too quickly. The entirety of the Menagerie other than Rodrick, who was still out in town, ate together. Lillia’s cooking felt like it improved by leaps and bounds every single time she made something new.

Even though her food didn’t give him quite as much energy as eating a well-made bracelet did, when he ate multiple meals from her a day, the difference was more than made up. Her food also tasted a hell of a lot better than eating metal.

It was also good for breaking up the mild tension at the counter — or rather, the mild tensions. Madiv and Esmerelda sat across from each other, arguing between every bite of food like an old married couple.

Well, that or a pair of mortal enemies. I genuinely can’t tell which one it is as this point. I suppose it depends on if they end up killing each other or not.

Arwin would have considered intervening if Esmerelda wasn’t returning fire with equal intensity to Madiv. Given how lonely her shop had been, he was pretty sure she was getting a kick out of just having someone to talk to.

On the other side of the counter, Reya and Olive sat and finished their meals in silence. Reya definitely considered speaking at least a dozen times through the meal, only to second guess herself and give up before she could form a word. Olive seemed to be an identical boat.

It was almost painful to watch, and Arwin couldn’t do a thing about it.

There’s no way Lillia and I were this bad, is there? I really don’t want to believe I’m that dense.

Lunch managed to finish without anyone professing their love or killing each other, which was definitely a minor miracle.

“I don’t have any more Brightsteel,” Esmerelda snapped, thrusting a finger into Madiv’s chest and glaring at the tall man. “Why are you so insistent on using plain, boring materials? I have an abundance of magical metal. It’s far better than some pathetic Brightsteel, you withered up old fool.”

“Who are you calling old?” Madiv looked down the bridge of his nose at Esmerelda. “And we need Brightsteel because that is what Arwin is paying for. He does not need magical metal, and I refuse to pay the difference.”

“I’ll get you a good price!”

“One gold.”

“No!” Esmerelda glared at Madiv. “One gold? Are you insane? I’m offering to sell you something that great adventurers would die in battle for, and you offer me one — oh, never mind. Use your head for a flicker of a second, empty as it may be. I am giving you an opportunity to purchase a powerful item without even a single gold. All I require—”

“Only gold.” Madiv crossed his arms. “I don’t deal in anything else. Are you telling me that, after claiming to be able to source anything I want, you can’t even get a basic piece of metal?”

“You flea-ridden, pox-nibbling rat. Don’t challenge my abilities,” Esmerelda snarled, leaping from her chair with surprising dexterity and grabbing Madiv by the arm. “Come on. I’ll show you just what I’m capable of. We’ll see about me not being able to get any Brightsteel. I’m sure I can find some of the damned garbage in this swamp of a city.”

She dragged Madiv out of the door, but the vampire didn’t seem too bothered. Arwin was pretty sure he caught a flicker of smug satisfaction in his eyes before they vanished through the door.

Olive and Reya glanced at each other at the same time, then hurriedly broke eye contact. Reya snagged a napkin and wiped at her face with it before sliding out of her stool.

“I’m… uh, going to go run. A lot. I need to practice running,” Reya said.

“Good luck?” Arwin half said, half asked. Going for a run right after lunch probably wouldn’t have been his first choice, but Reya was already halfway out the door.

For a second, he sat silently with Anna and Olive. Then the one-armed swordsman got to her own feet and scratched at the side of her neck.

“Could you tell Lillia thanks for the meal for me? I have to polish my sword.”

She was off without waiting for a response, slipping out of the tavern. Arwin couldn’t help but notice that Olive didn’t have her sword on her, nor did a magical sword typically need any sharpening.

He and Anna exchanged a glance.

“Kids,” Anna said through a snort.

“I’m not sure either Madiv or Esmerelda count as children. They’re both definitely more than twice my age.”

Anna stood up and gathered up the plates left on the counter, then arched an eyebrow. “Just because you get older doesn’t mean you stop acting like a kid. Ah, I can’t complain. It keeps things exciting, and it’s far preferrable to how life used to be.”

“It’s certainly entertaining,” Arwin agreed. He almost asked Anna if he and Lillia had really been this bad, then decided against it. There were some things that he just didn’t need to know. “Do you know how Rodrick is doing? He’s been out a lot recently. Nothing is wrong, is it?”

“He’d have said if something was. Don’t worry about him too much. He’s having the time of his life.” Anna shook her head and shrugged. “He’s just doing what he does best and poking his nose around where it doesn’t belong.”

“As long as all is fine,” Arwin said. He took the stack of plates from Anna. “I’ll take these to Lillia.”

“I’m sure you will,” Anna said with a wry smile. “Well, I won’t stop you. Before you head off, what should we tell the people that have been swinging by to check if you’re planning to start taking customers again anytime soon? I get the feeling the forge is going to swallow your time again pretty soon.”

“You predict right.” Arwin set the plates back down on the counter momentarily to rub the back of his neck and give Anna a sheepish smile. “We’re going through money at a pretty alarming rate, so I’ll probably want to start of a few normal armor sets soon. I’ll let Madiv and Reya handle the sales and the like. Don’t take on any more new customers yet. If anyone comes by asking to commission me, just let them know I’ll be taking requests for some very special armor quite soon.”

“Going to be making more of the magical stuff you made Melissa?”

“Probably not to that level. I had to waste a lot of time and energy putting limits onto it,” Arwin said with a chuckle. Making equipment that was too effective was definitely a good problem to have. “I’ll just be doing some low-to-mid-level magical equipment. Stuff similar to Olive’s sword or bracers. Probably a bit nicer.”

“You’re about to be a popular smith,” Anna observed. “I’ll make sure to limit the new customers, then. Are you going to vet who you sell to?”

“You know it. Nothing too extensive. I’m not making world-ending pieces of equipment, and I don’t have time to deeply research everyone. If you or Rodrick do, then it would be helpful to have a quick analysis from you. Don’t take on anyone you don’t like.”

“Will do,” Anna promised. “You should consider making rings and jewelry as well. There’s a lot of demand for those. I think you mentioned doing it a while ago.”

Arwin dug through his pockets and pulled out the ring he’d taken from their last dungeon.

Flowing Water Ring: Average Quality

[Glittering Wave]: This item was made with the sea in mind and quenched within its waters. Activating this item will cause it to glint like the sun off water, potentially blinding anyone looking in its direction for a short period of time.

He’d still yet to wear or gift it to anyone. It had clearly been some sort of wedding band. It just didn’t feel right. He and the members of the Menagerie weren’t so desperate for power to need something like this — but he could still learn a lot from it.

“I’ll be doing that quite soon. I just need to get the housing for a creepy ass heart built first,” Arwin said, studying the ring for a second longer before tucking it into a pocket. He set a hand on the stack of plates again.

“Sounds good. I’ll let the others know where you and Lillia are,” Anna said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He lifted the plates and headed into the kitchen, eager to get started on his joint project with Lillia once again.

***

Tironal’s fingers drummed against his small chair’s armrest. He massaged his forehead with a hand as he stared out the window, his jaw clenched. Milten hadn’t meant to pose anywhere near this much of an annoyance.

Perhaps that was an unfair thought. If he was being honest with himself, Milten hadn’t been a problem at all. The Ardent guild had moved into the city effortlessly. They’d quickly established a new guildhall and had been steadily gaining influence over the town and the merchants within it. There was just a single roadblock.

The Menagerie.

It would have been simple enough to just ignore them if Ifrit had been a normal smith, but everything had gone wrong at every turn. His own men had been saved from a potential Dungeon Break, and even though the majority of the town had no clue of how close they had come to disaster, they did know that the Ardent Guild’s adventurers had been rescued.

His plot to buy the Menagerie’s land had failed, and not only had they managed to get established as a guild, but they’d been ranked.  Even if it was only Rank 499, at the very bottom of the list, they’d done what he hadn’t been able to do in years of work.

Damn it all. Stopping a Dungeon Break when it’s that close to going off is definitely difficult, but couldn’t my men have done that without help? This is ruining how fast I can move, especially after that stunt Ifrit pulled.

The Menagerie are going to be a major thorn in my side if we can’t remove them sooner rather than later. They’ve already got too much support for a guild their size… and if they’re ranked, taking them out means the Ardent Guild might finally get the ranking we’ve been trying for.

It wasn’t like he could just crush them, though. The Ardent Guild was a merchant guild, not an adventurer guild. If he went around killing people himself, the guild’s public image would plummet and merchants would stop working with them.

I wish my damned spymaster and his apprentice weren’t blasted fools. Charles used to be so competent. What happened to him? It feels like I’m flying blind — but it changes nothing. I need to find a way to deal with the Menagerie before they get too strong and fly my reach.

A shadow shifted in the corner of the dark room, just out of the reach of the light flowing in through the window. Tironal’s contemplations froze as he jerked his head to look in the direction of the movement.

He rose to his feet. “Who’s there?”

“Calm yourself, Tironal.” A voice curled from the shadows like wisps of smoke. “If we wanted you dead, then you never would have heard me coming.”

A man clad in sleek black armor stepped out of the darkness. His face was covered by a metal mask that rose up from the top of his chestpiece, leaving only his dull gray eyes visible above it, and even they were partially concealed beneath a thick mat of gray hair. A guild insignia of a thin silver line ran across his chest, right above his heart.

Tironal’s eyes locked onto the insignia on the man’s chest. He felt the blood rush out of his face.

He’s a member of the Setting Sun. What the fuck is someone like that doing in Milten?

“What do—”

The man lifted a hand to his masked face and Tironal’s mouth snapped shut.

“Hush now, Tironal,” the intruder breathed. “I am speaking. Don’t fret, dear merchant. We don’t have any issue with your moves to move into Milten, nor do we care about your little spat with the Dawnseekers.”

Tironal swallowed. He didn’t dare to so much as nod his understanding. There was no point calling for help or his guards. None of his warriors were anywhere near strong enough to kill the man before him, much less stop him from slitting Tironal’s throat in a split second.

“You may answer this question,” the gray-haired shadow said. “I had a… trainee of sorts in Milten. He has gone missing.”

“Nobody in my guild is anywhere near strong enough to kill one of your members,” Tironal said. “I swear to you that it wasn’t us.”

“I don’t care who it was. His death was unfortunate but ultimately irrelevant. If a baby bird falls from the nest and does not fly, then they were fated to meet their end on the ground. I simply wish to recover some of the investments I spent on my apprentice. They were… not cheap.”

Tironal swallowed. He’d technically answered the other man’s first question, and he wasn’t sure if he dared to speak again without permission. Amusement crinkled the pale, visible skin of gray-haired man’s face.

“You may speak.”

“You may have full access to anything in my guild to inspect it. If we have mistakenly claimed anything that belongs to you, we will return it without hesitation.”

“Very good — but as you said, you were not strong enough to defeat my apprentice. You have an extensive network in this city, Tironal. I do not have time to invest too much of my time, so you will do this task for me, yes? Of course, I will ensure you are properly paid for it.”

Tironal nodded so hard that his chin nearly went straight into his solar plexus. “We are at your command. Who is your late apprentice? I will call my spymaster immediately.”

“He should not be difficult to find. I believe he had started a baby guild in this city,” the intruder said. His words crawled across Tironal’s skin like a wave of spiders. “His name was Jessen.”

Chapter 218

With Melissa’s armor dealt with, Arwin and Lillia finally had a chance to get back to working on their heart-contraption. They hadn’t actually figured out a name for it yet, and Arwin was more focused on actually making it than naming it.

The Millstone Maw, the first part of the set that would process magical food into paste, was ready to get to work. They just needed the next two parts of the set. One to extract the magical energy from the paste, and another to house the heart.

Arwin was fairly certain that the former of the two would be the more difficult. The best idea he and Lillia had come up with so far was a device that would accept some form of liquid through an intake valve that could be mixed with the paste until dilution. The mixture could then then flow through the pipes and into the heart.  

With that in mind, Arwin got started by making some pipes. He didn’t need much of Lillia’s help for that, so she headed back to the tavern to start preparing for the dinner crowd while he worked.

Making the pipes, fortunately, was a fairly straight forward task. Arwin went through his Brightsteel, filtering through it to find pieces that wouldn’t mind being part of… whatever it was he was making. It was a bit difficult to describe to the metal through just thoughts and feelings, but he eventually managed to get his point across.

Arwin wasn’t surprised to find that the Brightsteel wasn’t particularly excited for the task, but he eventually managed to filter out enough pieces that didn’t mind it. He then got to work purifying the metal piece by piece before hammering it back into a sheet with Verdant Blaze.

Once the metal for the pipes was ready, it didn’t take long for Arwin to turn it into rough tube shapes. He used [Scourge] and the heat of his [Soul Flame] to bend everything together, then spent nearly three times that effort actually rounding out the centers of the pipes to make them circular.

That had probably been a bit excessive. He was pretty sure the pipes would be fine even if they weren’t perfect, but every step toward perfection meant the final product would function better… and it certainly didn’t hurt anyone if it looked nice.

Arwin pumped the metal full of his magical energy as he worked, then moved on to forming a mixing chamber and a valve to pour liquid in through. That took a little longer than the pipes, and he ran into a slightly bigger problem in the process.

Unlike the pipes, having divots or other significant imperfections in a mixing chamber would mean liquid or paste could get stuck in the cracks and fail to flow on properly. That would mean extra time wasted taking everything apart or cleaning it.

I need to keep it as round as possible. How can I get a large piece of metal to be a good hemisphere?

Arwin looked around the smithy. Materials were gathered in piles along its edges and a thin layer of soot covered the ground, pieces of metal scattered throughout it. Nothing was exactly the sphere shape he needed.

His brow furrowed in thought, holding the sheet of Brightsteel in one hand while his other drummed against the stone bottom of his hearth, [Soul Flame] flickering around it. Then a thought struck him.

Arwin looked down at the metal in his hand, then glanced at the door. Nobody was watching. He stuck the Brightsteel into the fire, heating it until it was malleable, then lifted it to the top of his head and pressed down with the aid of [Scourge].

The metal warped and contoured to the top of his skull. He ran his hands along it, smoothing everything out as much as possible before lifting the glowing metal away and examining it.

It had worked. His method might have been a little unconventional and the result wasn’t a completely perfect hemisphere, but it had worked. There were just a few dents he had to work out of the metal before it would be as close to perfect as he was going to get.

Huh. The top of my head is a bit less round than I thought it was. I wonder if I got the bumps from getting smacked too hard at some point. I’m sure those didn’t affect me negatively in any way.

Arwin worked the small bumps out as best as he could, continuing to pump magical energy out into the metal, and he soon had the bottom half of his mixing chamber prepared. He then repeated the process for the top half.

With the two halves of the chamber prepared, Arwin intensified the power pouring into his [Soul Flame] until it glowed a deep blue. He heated both pieces of the chamber and pressed them together. Their seams melted into each other, making a hollow sphere.

The [Soul Flame] faded back to its normal color as Arwin removed the mixing chamber and pressed a pipe into its side, leaving a faint mark in the metal. He drew on his magic once again to use [Scourge] and push out a hole for the pipe to go through.

He made a second hole next to the first and a third on the opposite side of the sphere. Arwin’s magic started to falter as drew continuously on it to infuse the metal, but he’d advanced in rank since the last time he’d worked this hard.

He had more energy now than he had before. It still wasn’t anything more than a drop in the bucket compared to the power he’d had as the Hero, but it was progress.

And if I’m honest with myself, I wouldn’t trade what I can do now for the powers I had then. Being a smith lets me do more than just kill. I just hope my power is enough to let me actually use this creepy heart. It’s going to be a real pain in the ass if all this effort ends up amounting to nothing.   

Arwin pressed on. He made a funnel from Brightsteel using the horn of the anvil and pinching the heated metal together with [Scourge] infused fingers, then connected that to the top of a pipe.

The door swung open behind him and he glanced over his shoulder as Lillia re-entered the back of the smithy. She took a second to take in everything that he’d already done, then gave him a nod.

“Want help with the finish?”

“You’ve got timing,” Arwin said, not stopping his work as he used one of the gemstones that Rodrick had brought for Melissa’s armor and embedded it in the bottom of the mixing chamber. His words were strained with focus, but he managed to push them out without getting distracted. “Can you back me up on the mixing intent? I’ll handle the rest of it.”

Lillia strode over to comply and Arwin scooped up a Wyrmling claw, pushing it through the top of the chamber. Energy pulsed through his body and throbbed in his mind as he shoved it into the Brightsteel.

He connected the pipes to the mixing chamber in the same manner, his intent as honed as a knife. Power ran from Lillia and flowed through him before entering the chamber. The Mesh tingled at Arwin’s fingertips as he felt it intensify with every passing second.

It built behind the dam of his mind, held back by only determination to make sure everything was completely finished. Arwin straightened out a few connections and gave the odd sphere one last look.

Three pipes jutted out of it. One went straight back to connect with the Millstone Maw, another rose up to the sky and had a funnel at its peak, while the last jutted out horizontally on the far end of the sphere so it could run to the final part of the set once it was made.

There was nothing more he could do. Arwin finally relaxed, his shoulders dipping as he blew out an exhausted sigh. The Mesh burst forth to bring their work to life. All he could do now was sit and watch the golden words as they shimmered through the air, waiting to see if his and Lillia’s efforts had been successful.

[Churning Stomach: Epic Quality] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy.

[Churning Stomach: Epic Quality]

[The Stomach of the Forge]: This item is primed and ready to hold all the magic that enters it, but not for long. The magical energy of any organic materials that enter this item will be temporarily contained and kept from dissipating.

[Swirling Bite]: The hunger of a Wyrmling imbues this item. At the cost of magical energy, magical currents will churn within this item’s core and mix anything within it thoroughly.

[Dry Mouth]: This item cannot function without a sufficient supply of liquid. Its traits’ effectiveness will be reduced or entirely halted if it gets clogged by solid or indigestible matter.

[The Soul of the Forge]: This is a set item of [3] pieces forged by Arwin Tyrr and Lillian Los. When the entire set is connected, it will gain the [Awoken] trait and become active.

But that wasn’t all. Even as Arwin spun to Lillia and grabbed her shoulders, a delighted grin spreading across his face, one more message from the Mesh flashed before Arwin’s eyes. A tremor ran down his back as he felt something hidden away within [Arsenal] shift.

A deep, primal hunger met his mind like a river of fire. It twisted down his spine and purred in the back of his thoughts like a satisfied lion. Before the new words could even finish tracing out before him, Arwin knew what they would say.

Verdant Blaze has fully Awakened.