Threads of the Soul

Chapter 424 - 424: Stoking the fires of romance

Corvus let out some more chuckles as he watched the two forgers in action. With every strike of their hammers, every hastened plunge back into the fires and more importantly every stolen glance and glare between each other. It was painfully clear that they did not care about the competition at large.Only about competing with each other. And Corvus was absolutely loving every second of it.

It got to the point that he too stopped paying attention to the marvellous and strange methods of forging going on within the rest of the arena. If they were any good, they would surely progress and he would see more of them.

If they were more show than function, then watching them would only be a waste of time. So he felt no guilt at all in his indulgence in this little soap opera performance.

It really did remind him of the cheesy romantic shows and dramas that his sister used to watch. The type of shows which he pretended to despise, yet secretly loved. He would always just so happen to be in the room when she watched them. Even if it meant lingering in the doorway to catch the tail end of the dramatic reveal that Horatio had in fact been cheating with Oliver behind Jennifer's back, who in turn revealed that she had been pregnant with Brandon's baby the entire time!

Now that was a truly scandalous episode.

While Titus' little spat with his competitor wasn't quite so spicy and dramatic, it still held the classic signs of romance and tension. Rivals to lovers was always such a classic trope. No matter how much they hated each other, sometimes even trying to kill each other in some cases. No matter their hatred or even their gender, fans would always want to see the rivals fall for each other.

It was such a well used trope that Corvus couldn't stop the goofy smile spreading across his lips as he watched the pair bickering, unaware that they were secretly flirting and worming their way into each others hearts.

It was absolutely adorable. He was just lucky that his hood hid his face from view, otherwise the other leaders in the less entertaining meeting would be giving him strange looks.

He did occasionally shoot a glance or two over to that meeting. But it was still the same boring, safe fights that were going on, so he quickly lost interest and went back to his drama.

After a few more rounds of heating and bashing, the swords were eventually quenched and sharpened as the timer came to an end. One by one, the competitors would come forwards and present their masterpiece to the judge.

The judge they had chosen was absolutely perfect. He had a strange mutation that allowed him to essentially use any weapon that he held without any issue. Well... Without issue of skill.

If he was handed a sword made for someone with three hands he would naturally struggle and wouldn't then grow a third hand. But he might develop a two handed technique to compensate and use it perfectly then.

He had explained it as the weapons whispering to him. They would tell him their secrets, how to use them and even their flaws. Just by holding a blade, he could find out everything about it.

But most of all, the blades whispered to him how much they wanted to bite into flesh. To which, as the sole judge, he gladly obliged.

They were tested against a particularly tough beast bone, against stone created by someone with a stone controlling mutation and finally, once the edge had been beaten and bent enough, they were tested against the thick hide of a notoriously tough beast. One that was already dead and strung up, of course. They weren't barbarians.

Some sorts cut in a few inches before getting stuck, some only left shallow slices while a few even snapped at the perfect moment to elicit gasps and 'Ooooh's from the audience, causing the forger to hang their head in shame and embarrassment.

Those that passed, cut through the beasts hide with no problem, even after the abuse they took. Those were the blades that would 'Keel' according to the judge. Why he pronounced kill like that, no one knew. Some said it was just a sad side effect of his mutation.

Naturally, Titus and his little girlfriend got through with no problems. Their swords being so deadly, such proficient 'keelers' that they had to find new beast bodies to hang up, as their swords carved them in two. Somehow cutting even deeper than the length of the blade.

Thankfully, they were prepared for such an eventuality. Or just the possibility that the meats would get ruined by repeated sword swings.

Out of the hundreds of competitors, after nearly two hours of testing, it came down to only twenty going through to the next round. Truly harsh judgement, but fair.

Once they were announced, Corvus had his puppet rise to his feet and clap for the victors, delivering a grandiouse speech about potential and the spirit of competition, as well as rambling on a bit too long about how close some of them had become.

He had to get his dad embarrassment out somehow. It was his duty.

He also announced that those twenty would be given a congratulatory feast, with the main dish being made from the meat of the very beast their swords had carved through to achieve victory. Considering it was a mid tier transcendent beast, that was an amazing prize for many of them already, and that was just for getting through to the next round.

It not only showed his generosity and pride for his people, but inspired the other competitors to do better, hoping to at least pass their qualifying rounds and receive a good prize for that alone.

Plus, it got many wondering what the ultimate prize could be, if an expensive feast of high quality beast meat was only a qualifying prize.

However, whilst Corvus was lounging in luxury, enjoying live dramas and handing out lavish prizes, and while Scar was enjoying his thrilling adventures as a pirate sailing the high seas. At least one version of them was actually hard at work.

Since Titus was absent, Seth the one armed wonder had 'appropriated' his son's home forge for his own purposes. Purposes that Titus would find absolutely enthralling, if it were not for Seth's completely inept forging techniques.

Never mind qualifying, if Seth had entered into the competition he would have been thrown out before they even saw his idiotic forging techniques, just so he didn't make the others look bad simply by being in his presence.

Honestly though, was it his fault that Titus took his oh-so perfect hammer and thus Seth was forced to simply punch the metal into a somewhat decent shape? No, it was absolutely not.

Nor was it his fault that his punches often left big dents in the metal, which required more beating to get them out, until he could shape the piping hot metal with his prosthetic hands fingers like it was clay.

Lifting up his deformed, bent and thoroughly abused lump of metal, Seth let out a deep sigh. He couldn't even bring himself to call it a weapon at this point. Just a lump.

Sighing again, he tossed it over his shoulder, letting it clatter into the pile of other lumpy disappointments, before starting again. This time trying to be more gentle in his approach.

He tossed another hunk of metal into the crucible, letting it glow bright before it began to melt. Ignoring the fact he was doing this terribly, despite using a mold to get close to the shape of a weapon, Seth grabbed the special ingredient to his masterpiece.

A pile of crystals filled his hand, empty soul crystals crafted from various beasts, and began to crush them with his bare hands. The crystals shattered like rice cakes, slowly being ground to sparkling dust in his palm.

After the revelation of the importance of the name, Seth had another hunch in his quest to make a Requital. Why did they only receive them when killing something?

Angel called it a reward, but it seemed quite random. He had received one from killing a Blink Rat, but not from slaying multiple more powerful beasts. What was rewarding about slaying a common rat?

It got him thinking that, perhaps the reason for it requiring a kill wasn't just as a reward. But because there was something about the dead body that the system needed to craft them. Something beyond the drops of blood or scattered material that it absorbed in the process.

How else could a simple weapon, no matter how well it was enchanted, be stored in the soul if it did not have pieces of a soul within its very being?

Once the metal was fully melted Seth sprinkled the glittering dust into the pot, like a chef seasoning an extra spicy soup, and began to stir it in. Once more preparing the base for his latest attempt at his masterpiece.