Rise of the Living Forge

Olive’s sword slammed down on Vale’s. A keen wail tore free from the weapon as if it were screaming in fury — though she only knew by the violent vibrations that tore down her arms.

She skipped a step back to avoid Vale’s counterattack. Her senses buzzed a warning in the back of her head and Olive threw herself into a roll, coming up to see she’d narrowly avoided getting grabbed by Rime.

Her hearing was still completely shot. The only thing that reached her ears now was an angry, shrill whine. Every one of her other senses was working in overtime to keep her alive — but she was dancing on the edge of the knife.

The fight hadn’t been going for all that long, all things considered, but Olive couldn’t spare the attention to determine exactly how long it had been. She didn’t have the liberty to think about anything other than the fight.

Every single scrap of her attention was completely focused on Vale and Rime — on all the moving pieces that went into fulfilling her role. She couldn’t press any advantage too hard without risking leaving Maeve open, but she couldn’t play too hard on the backfoot or one of the two Blackguard would break away and target someone else.

Any thoughts of proving that she was the superior swordsman in skill alone were long since in the dust. They hadn’t even entered her mind during the tournament.

Olive’s foot scuffed against the ground as she kicked up a cloud of dust and rubble, sending it spraying into Vale’s face as she spun to dodge away from Rime. She sprung to the side, driving the pommel of her blade into the armor covering Vale’s groin with all the force she could muster.

Her efforts were rewarded with a loud, ringing clang and a slew of curses. Vale definitely hadn’t been seriously injured, but nobody liked getting their jewels rung like a church bell.

It was dirty fighting. Not something that any honorable swordsman or woman would ever lower themselves to. She drew on every single trick that Reya had ever taught her, spitting and clawing her way through the fight with every scrap of resolve she had.

A companion’s life was on the line.

Some of Olive’s hearing was starting to come back, little more than a crawling whisper, but the ringing in her ears faded as her body pulled itself back together. Her healing abilities weren’t anything to be particularly impressed with, but every warrior worth their salt had at least one ability to keep them in the fight for a bit longer.

“Vale!” Rime called through a cough. He waved ashen smoke away from his face, his hand leaving a trail of black fire in its wake. “This is ridiculous. We’re being made fools of.”

“Have you considered actually landing a blow on her?” Vale asked, shifting his grip on his sword as the weapon started to scream again. “Though I must admit that she is very skilled. I did not expect her to fight like… this.”

There was an implication to his tone. Vale didn’t approve of her fighting style. It wasn’t so much judgement as it was annoyance. Olive took a significant amount of satisfaction from that.

Maeve can’t need much longer. If I can just hold out for a bit more, we can win this. I know we can.

“She’s better than I am,” Rime grumbled. “Not happy about that. It’s embarrassing. But I think we’ve provided a pretty extensive overview of Necrohammer’s shit at this point. I think it’s time to wrap this up. We have a final to win.”

“I must unfortunately agree,” Vale said. “Forget saving anything for the finals. We can’t afford it. She’s clearly buying time for something, and we can’t afford to lose. We have a task to accomplish.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Olive growled. Her grip tightened on her sword, but she wasn’t about to interupt Vale’s monologue. It was buying her desperately needed seconds. “I’m not going down here.”

Vale chuckled. “You’re an incredible swordswoman, Miss. I don’t know why you’re with a crafting guild, but skill like yours, no matter how low your fighting style is, deserves respect. You’re a better swordsman than I am. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry we have to win like this. You definitely would have won this if our equipment wasn’t better than yours.”

The Blackguard changed his grip on his sword. It ignited with brilliant red energy, the veins covering its length lighting up like they were full of magma. Tongues of red energy exploded out from the back of Vale’s armor like writing tentacles of pure magic.

Olive’s senses screamed a warning as power crackled through the air.

She activated the bracer on her wrist instantly. It had been filled some time ago, in the dungeons she’d run with Maeve and Elias. There had been no reason to reveal it earlier in the tournament, but the sheer magical pressure rolling out from Vale made it absolutely clear she couldn’t risk holding back.

Sacrificial Bracer: Rare Quality

[Bloodwell]: Creatures killed while this item is worn will have their energy drained into the gem in its center until it is full. This item cannot contain the energy of any creature higher than Journeyman tier.

[Sacrifice]: Activating this item releases the power stored in the Bloodwell, causing it to defend the wielder from physical strikes until the power is used up. Activating [Sacrifice] will render [Bloodwell] inert until all the power within the gemstone has been spent.

A glowing orb of crimson energy shimmered to life around Olive — and then Vale was standing before her.

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Her eyes didn’t even have time to widen.

She hadn’t even seen him move. His sword was streaking through the air toward Olive, and by the time she’d heard the wail echoing out from the blade, it had already slammed into her.

The Sacrificial Bracer’s defensive shield shattered.

Olive tumbled across the ground, skidding all the way to the edge of the arena before she managed to stop herself by digging the fingers into the ground. Cold sweat prickled against her back.

The Sacrificial Bracer could store a considerable amount of power within it. When she’d tested it in dungeons, it had managed to absorb several blows from even boss monsters without cracking.

Vale had completely destroyed it in a single blow. Necrohammer’s equipment really was ridiculous. There was only one other smith that Olive had ever seen make something as strong as this.

Ifrit… and she’d only seen weapons of this caliber in his hands.

Her eyes flicked to Elias. He was on the other end of the arena, dodging and spinning around the third Blackguard’s attacks. Every single cut passed dangerously close to his body. One mistake could spell his end — and it was clear he couldn’t do anything else without revealing his monstrous form.

Maeve had her back to the edge of the arena. Her hands danced through the air before her as magic swirled at her fingertips, forming into some complex spell that Olive’s ears still couldn’t properly pick up on.

It couldn’t have been far from done… but with Vale moving at this speed, it wasn’t going to matter.

They needed more time.

“Damn it,” Olive said, her teeth clenching.

And then Vale was before her.

“You fought well,” Vale said. His sword lifted, the brilliant wings humming at his back crackling like a storm was trapped within them. “Forgive us for going to these lengths, but the world must know. This tournament is stolen from you. My Siren cannot be defeated by someone wielding normal gear. Surrender.”

She’d loved to have asked what Vale was talking about, but it was clear he was about to bring his impossibly fast sword straight down on her head. The time for talking was just about over.

“This is completely unfair,” Olive said, her teeth clenching.

“I know. I am sorry.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

Olive clenched her fists.

Then she dropped her sword.

It clanged against the stone ground, ringing like a chime. The noise echoed through the arena.

Elias spun. He launched himself away from the Blackguard, sprinting to make space as the pieces of armor covering his body started to hum. Maeve’s equipment did the same. Strands of undulating blue energy snapped to life between all three of them — and then, one by one, they snapped.

Vale tilted his head to the side. “Some form of ability meant to boost your equipment’s strength at the cost of theirs? It seems to have failed.”

“It wasn’t a boost,” Olive said, gritting her teeth as power drove into her chest like a hammer strike. Her teeth chattered as her jaw clacked together and power raced through her body. Lines of brilliant golden orange raced along the surface of her armor as it activated for the first time since its creation. “It was a seal.”

What felt like hot magma pumped through Olive’s veins. Her armor heated, the power running through it continuing to intensify until it was only a half-step away from unbearable.

A presence prickled against the back of her mind, both foreign and familiar at the same time. Her cursed arm trembled in delight, and she felt its connection to her intensify. This was what the arm had been waiting for.

Vale’s sword blurred through the air — and it slammed to a halt against Olive’s palm. Her wooden arm had moved of its own volition.

Give me the reins, Olive.

A voice curled through Olive’s mind like wisps of smoke. And even though she’d never heard it before, she knew exactly who it belonged to.

It was her arm.

Arwin said that not even he knew the full extent of what this suit of armor would do when the seal keeping it down was released, but he did give me two warnings about it.

She grit her teeth as the arm’s presence drove into her thoughts — and she felt the armor respond, reinforcing her mind.

No. You obey me. Not other way around.

I will make you the best swordswoman to ever live. You’ve seen how powerful we can become, but we have to work together. You fight against our nature.

You are mine. This is not a partnership. Not yet — and I don’t care if I’m the best swordswoman or not. That time has long since passed, and if you understood me at all, you should already know that.

“What is this?” Vale asked, yanking his sword free from Olive’s arm. He stared at her in disbelief. “You blocked my blow?”

Kill him. I want to kill him.

The words slammed into Olive’s skull, ringing it like a hollow drum. The arm was trying to steal control from her. Her teeth gritted. The arm did not rule her mind. It was part of her body, not the other way around.

No. You’ve had your blood already. You will obey me. If you want to taste battle ever again, you will do what I say. We fight this my way. Not yours.

And what will that get us? What will it get me? Giving me control will make you far stronger than you are now.

I don’t care. I’m not winning a fight because you carry me through it. I’m doing it with my own two hands. This is my body. You will do as I command. And if you take control now — I can promise you’ll never be attached to anyone again. Either rise to the top with me or I’ll turn you to kindling. If you’ve got any foresight, you know which one is the right path.

…today, you have denied both the Mesh and me. What do you even want? You turn away every gift offered. Are you truly so scared of power? You would not cease to be if you let me in. We would become more. Greater than we were before.

Olive just smiled.

You know your options. Fight with me or against me… but make your choice here and now. Give me your aid and I will give you what you want when the time calls for it. But, when we face opponents that don’t deserve death, you will obey me. Let me show you what I can do.

It was a flicker of a second before the arm replied.

Very well. Demonstrate.

“You were holding this much power back?” Vale asked, his glowing eyes wide in surprise. “That is bold.”

“I’ve been holding a lot more back than just this,” Olive said. Her lips twitched into a grin as she flexed her hands — both of them. Her limbs were fully hers. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this as well. I was really hoping to avoid using this. It feels cheap.”

She extended her wooden arm. Power raced down her shoulder with a crackling roar, twisting into her hand.

A brilliant flash of orange light sliced through the arena.

Her Soul Weapon was finally awake. It wasn’t quite complete, but that was fine. Arwin had given her a temporary replacement for its last piece.

An immense weight settled into her palm as the shaft of a huge weapon materialized within it. Olive nearly staggered in surprise. She’d been warned about this, but she hadn’t realized just how heavy it would be.

Vale took a step back. “I thought you were a swordswoman.”

“Oh, I’m just borrowing this for a moment,” Olive said, her lips splitting into a grin. She raised the weapon in her hands into a fighting stance. It felt like she was hoisting a mountain itself… but that wasn’t too far from the truth. Clenched within her gauntleted fists was a massive hammer. Black lava dripped from its head, warping the air around it. “You said your sword’s name was Siren, right? This isn’t my weapon, but I’d like to introduce you to Caldera.”