Rise of the Living Forge

“That… you mean he gave Hein that power-stealing dagger?” Reya asked, her eyes going wide as she stared at the weapon held gingerly in Arwin’s hands. “Why would he do something like that?”

Arwin shook his head mutely. He carefully set the dagger down, making sure it didn’t so much as nick his hands. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was somehow lose his powers a second time. Once was more than enough for a lifetime.

“I don’t know,” Arwin said. “So much doesn’t make sense. Necrohammer definitely made this dagger. It’s unique enough that I can’t see any other smith creating something like it, so the one Hein has is almost certainly made by him as well.”

“It doesn’t speak well that he made something like this in the first place,” Reya said. “What kind of sick bastard creates a weapon that steals people’s powers? Selling evil shit like that is something only terrible people do.”

Esmerelda cleared her throat, suddenly finding the wall fascinating. “Perhaps he had some other purpose for the blade.”

“Who could hate somebody so much that you’d steal their class instead of just killing them?” Reya asked, crossing her hands in front of her chest. “It’s evil, through and through.”

Arwin chewed his lower lip. He stared at the dagger before him. The last vestiges of emotion from the blade still lingered in his mind, strings of agony that clung to his thoughts like cobwebs.

A dull throb started to take form in his skull as a headache begun to form.

“Let’s ignore the reason why Necrohammer made the daggers for now,” Arwin said, leaning back and shaking his head in a futile attempt to clear it. “What the hell is he doing in the Proving Grounds? None of these actions make sense. He outfitted dozens of teams with equipment meant to prove how strong he is. Then he sent a group with some of the most powerful armor we’ve seen — and not once did they use the dagger that would have ended pretty much any fight in an instant.”

“Perhaps this blade was a prototype,” Esmerelda said, nodding to the dagger before Arwin. “Hein has the optimized one. If Necrohammer outfitted the other teams… he could have outfitted the Adventuer’s Guild as well. Perhaps they just bought it off him.”

“Then why give his own team a shitty version?” Arwin shook his head. “And why didn’t they try to use it on Olive when the tides of the fight turned? Besides, didn’t you hear what Vale said? The Blackguard weren’t just at the tournament for fun. They had a purpose.”

“Didn’t say what it was, though.” Reya leaned against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Maybe that purpose was just flexing Necrohammer’s work.”

“Definitely possible,” Arwin agreed. But that didn’t sound right. The way Vale had acted… unless the man was acting, he didn’t seem like the sort of warrior who would go around stealing power.

Vale acted honorably through the fight. Sure, he was using some insanely strong gear, but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. That’s just life. He didn’t release its full strength until it was clear he had no choice.

So why would he be carrying around a weapon like this? And more importantly… why would he tell Olive to take it?

The room fell silent as they all dug through their thoughts in attempt to work out the messy ball of yarn before them. Necrohammer’s actions just didn’t fit with any logical motive. If he was here to show off his talents and try to sell these weapons to the world, then he would have been showing them off with his core team.

But Vale hadn’t so much as mentioned the dagger until he’d already lost. Furthermore, there was the issue of comparative strength. If Necrohammer was planning to market these daggers, he would have been far better served sending someone like Hein to demonstrate how strong they were.

By outfitting his own team in heavy, powerful armor, the dagger looked weaker in comparison. It made it seem like they needed more defenses to survive. Rolling up with nothing but the blade would just be more impactful.

A grim thought struck Arwin.

Is it possible Vale’s team’s job was to win every fight up until he made it to the finals, and then to get completely defeated by Hein to demonstrate how powerful the daggers are?

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That would have been dark indeed. It would have meant that Vale’s group had been sent all the way here to functionally be sacrificed… but that theory fell apart pretty quickly with the existence of the dagger Vale had been carrying.

Damn it. I miss Lillia. I wish she were here. She might have had some good insight for this.

“I don’t get it,” Arwin muttered. “Why would he give Vale that dagger, and why would Vale give it to Olive?”

“Necrohammer could have had more than one goal,” Esmerelda suggested. “Perhaps the reason this is so cloudy is because we are overlapping his intentions.”

“He definitely had at least two,” Arwin said, trying to sort his thoughts out before he spoke again. “There’s no doubt Necrohammer was trying to bring attention to himself. He scattered his equipment among a bunch of teams. But nobody does that without reason. He wants something. I just don’t know what… and I find it hard to believe that his main team went against his wishes in the end. Necrohammer didn’t seem that mad at the end of the fight.”

“Maybe his goal was to have his team lose and give the dagger to someone?” Reya offered.

“But why?” Arwin asked. Vale certainly hadn’t made it sound like he’d wanted to lose. The Blackguard had planned on making it to the finals.

A frown creased Arwin’s features as he dug deeper. There was a reason to this. He was certain of it. Nobody acted completely illogically. Necrohammer must have given Vale orders to give the dagger to anyone that managed to defeat him.

Sure, there was a chance it was some form of enticement to try and get a strong team to buy more from him, but Arwin somehow doubted that. This felt more intentional.

His gaze locked onto the still dagger and he chewed his lip intently. Arwin extended his senses toward it again, trying to see if it would feed him any more information. Pain bloomed at the edges of his mind as the blade’s presence made itself known to him.

Arwin sunk into it, letting the feelings of the weapons’ creation — of its purpose — drift over him.

Not enough. I need more.

He sunk deeper.

Waves of agony beat against his mind as the weapon relived its forging. They threatened to rip Arwin’s concentration away. The forging of this weapon had been beyond cruel — but the pain it had was nothing in comparison to the agony of the black lava that had forged his soul.

Arwin bore through it. He pressed on, delving deeper and deeper into the weapon. His teeth gritted and his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth threatened to crack. And still Arwin continued, delving further into the weapon.

There had to be a hint. Some flicker of intent from Necrohammer that would show him why —

A vision slammed into Arwin.

His breath froze solid in his throat. The vision was so fleeting that his mind didn’t even get a chance to properly plunge into darkness. It was merely a passing scene, flickering through the air before him like smokey haze.

A hammer, striking a mangled finger, magma glowing all around it. It was the forging of the dagger — but this time, it was as if the weapon had taken a step back.

A single illusory smith stood before Arwin, surrounded by his smithy. Necrohammer. He stood completely alone. The only thing he had for company was his hammer frozen mid-strike on the anvil.

And then the vision was gone.

The finger that had been used to create the dagger hadn’t been donated by some other participant or adventurer.

It had been from Necrohammer’s own hand.

“What?” Arwin breathed.

“What is it?” Reya asked urgently.

“Necrohammer made himself into this weapon. It’s his finger,” Arwin said, staring at the blade in confusion and shock. The other smith had sacrificed a part of himself to create this dagger.

You don’t do that if you’re trying to make a buisness out of these weapons. He could only ever sell a total of ten. That means this was made for a purpose far more important than just money.

“Seriously?” Reya’s eyes widened. “He used his own hand? What could have driven him to do that? Does he get the power from the daggers or something?”

“No. I don’t think so,” Arwin said with a shake of his head. The dagger didn’t feel like it was still linked to Necrohammer. Its connection to the smith was nothing but a passing memory. It had been made and given away.

A few pieces of a puzzle clicked together in Arwin’s mind. He wasn’t sure if they were the right ones, but the connection made sense. It was the only one that fit every piece of information they’d managed to gather.

“He didn’t make this dagger to steal anyone’s power,” Arwin muttered. “He made it to steal the magic from the other one. Two identical weapons, forged from the same source. If they clash, there’s a good chance their magic destroy each other.”

“You mean he made this thing to defeat Hein?” Reya blinked. “Wait. That would explain his team’s armor! They were completely covered. That’s the perfect counter to a dagger that steals all your power the moment it touches you.”

Arwin nodded.

“But why give a dagger for the Adventuer’s Guild, then promptly make another one to break the first?” Esmerelda asked. “If he didn’t want the damn thing to exist, he shouldn’t have made the first one.”

Arwin’s hands tightened at his side. “That would be true if we assume he had a choice in the matter. What if he was taken by the Guild and somehow forced to create the first dagger? If he managed to escape but hated what he’d made…”

“He’d arm a team specifically to defeat the last dagger he made, then try to make his name as well-known as possible to make it difficult for the Guild to make him vanish again,” Reya breathed. “Holy shit. If you’re right… the Guild kidnapped Necrohammer and forced him to make that weapon, right? Why would they need something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Arwin said with a grim shake of his head. “But we need to get this dagger to whatever team fights Hein’s next. Whatever the Guild is planning with him must be stopped.”