Miguel couldn’t believe what had just happened. This was supposed to be an easy victory—he would toy with Uriel a bit, see what he was capable of, and then decide whether to let him in. Not once had it crossed his mind that he would lose the fight.
"Again... let’s fight again." The words slipped out before Miguel could think, almost unconsciously. His desire for a rematch—for proof that he hadn’t really lost—surfaced on its own.
Uriel looked at Miguel, confused.
However, Miguel quickly took back his words. In the end, he himself had accepted the terms of the test; he had no right to complain. Uriel had won—it was only fair. But it hurt. He didn’t want it to end like this... yet he swallowed his pride.
"Forget it, I didn’t say anything... who would’ve thought, you’re pretty good, huh?"
Uriel said nothing. Maybe Miguel himself hadn’t noticed, but in the mont he ntioned fighting again, Uriel had seen his gaze change—into sothing filled with hatred. It had only lasted a second, but he was sure of what he’d seen.
"I guess that’s why the goddess chose you, haha. Well, that settles it—you’re now a mber of the Round Table."
Miguel patted Uriel on the shoulders.
Maybe he was overthinking it. It probably didn’t an anything too serious. Anyone would get upset if they were confident they’d win and suddenly their opponent turned the fight around sohow.
Uriel decided not to dwell on it.
"I only won because I got a bit lucky. If you had gone all out, I’d be the one who lost for sure."
For a mont, it seed like the color returned to Miguel’s face at Uriel’s words.
"You’re right! Let’s have a real fight again soday, Uriel."
Miguel extended his hand, and Uriel shook it.
"Hey, damn, your na’s Uriel, right? That was aweso. I’ve never seen anyone who could beat Miguel. What combat academy did you train at?"
Althea and Gabriel finally approached them. In fact, Uriel felt like the way they looked at him had changed—at least a little. It made sense, after the display he had just put on; he was no longer a complete nobody.
However, when he heard what Althea said, he turned to look at Miguel, who had gone slightly pale again. Did losing that small bet really bother him that much? Uriel wondered.
"I didn’t go to any. I didn’t have the money to get into one, so I spent a long ti at a dojo in the Southern States."
"Ah, that explains a lot. I like your style—it’s pretty..." Althea paused, searching for the right word. "Street-level, yeah, haha. But that’s not a bad thing—as long as you win, nothing else matters, right, Gabriel?"
"Yes... using your shield to keep Miguel from seeing your movents was very clever."
Uriel was still human, after all. Being praised like that made him blush slightly and avert his gaze as they spoke.
"W-when you put it like that, it sounds easy, but it wasn’t. I was thinking about a lot of things during most of the fight. One small mistake and Miguel would’ve beaten ."
Miguel spoke next.
"Uriel, follow . We prepared sothing for you in case you joined the Round Table—sooner or later."
He moved quickly, putting distance between himself and the group, forcing them to cut the conversation short so Uriel would have to follow him.
Before leaving, Althea gave him a thumbs-up in approval.
"Go on, follow him. It’ll be worth it—I’m sure you’ll like what’s waiting for you."
Gabriel didn’t say much, just waved his hand as a signal, and Uriel stepped away.
Uriel followed Miguel, who had slowed his pace slightly so he could keep up.
"Before you arrived, the oracle told us a bit about you."
That surprised Uriel, though not too much. These oracles tended to have mysterious abilities—Ininise was a perfect example, able to read minds and having two personalities.
"And what did she say about ? I hope it was sothing good."
"Oh, nothing like that. It was more about your personality in battle—that’s what matters most to the goddess Soleil."
Uriel thought about that. He wondered how the goddess treated people who were, for example, cowards. Did she push them to be brave, or did she simply see them as unworthy of her attention?
They continued until they reached an armory.
"Welco, Uriel. These are the personal reserves of the Round Table. You can choose sothing from here and keep it. Every weapon here is from the tower and ended up in our hands."
Uriel looked at the vast collection. He had no idea how powerful any of them were.
"How did you get all this so fast? We’ve only been in the tower for a week."
"What can I say? This is the level of dedication the paladins of Soleil give to this cause."
Uriel didn’t respond imdiately. His eyes moved across the armory with a mix of awe and caution. Swords with blades as black as night, spears with faintly glowing runes, daggers that seed to whisper just by looking at them... every weapon had its own presence, as if it held mories of its forr owners. The tower was undoubtedly full of wonders.
He even felt a little bad—during the week he had spent sleeping, he probably could have obtained a weapon like the ones here. Still, it impressed him how willing people were to donate them to this place.
What drove them? Why had they chosen to follow Soleil?
"You can take whatever you want," Miguel continued, crossing his arms. "But choose wisely."
Uriel walked slowly between the racks. At first, his instincts led him toward the maces—it was what he was most familiar with, the safest choice. He picked one up, held it... but sothing felt off. As if he were wasting his potential. As if, despite being reliable, maces didn’t fully make use of his strength. He set it down.
He kept walking.
He passed by bows, axes, even weapons he couldn’t identify. This was an important mont—no weapon would be forced upon him; he would choose it himself, and it would be his companion for who knew how long.
Uriel kept moving.
Until he felt it.
It wasn’t a sound or a light.
It was a weight.
A pressure in the air—dense, almost suffocating.
Uriel slowly turned his head toward the back of the armory. There, resting against a reinforced stone stand, was sothing different.
A hamr.
But it wasn’t a simple hamr like the ones he had used before.
It was massive.
A two-handed weapon, its head made of tal that looked like carved stone, marked by incandescent cracks—as if light were contained within it. The handle was thick, wrapped in worn leather, and even from a distance, Uriel could feel its presence.
Miguel noticed where he was looking.
"That one over there—Gabriel left it. Apparently it was a reward for killing an elite monster in the second zone, but it didn’t suit him. He said its size made it too unwieldy."
Uriel said nothing. He stepped closer.
Each step felt heavier, as if the air itself resisted him. When he finally stood before the weapon, he reached out... and hesitated for a mont.
Sothing inside him told him to choose it—as if he had found an old friend. As if that weapon had been made for him.
He grabbed it.
It was heavy.
Ridiculously heavy.
And yet, it was manageable—not easily, but he could definitely land a solid number of blows with it. Every movent now mattered.
Uriel clenched his teeth and held it with both hands, lifting it completely.
The cracks in the tal glowed more intensely for a mont.
Miguel’s eyes widened slightly.
"It suits you... but weren’t you more of a one-weapon-and-shield type? Using a hamr like that isn’t easy."
Uriel took a deep breath, feeling his pulse synchronize with sothing else. Sothing deeper.
More violent.
More direct.
This was a weapon of pure violence, made to crush the flesh of his enemies. His mind reacted—it was a strange sensation, as if fragnts of similar mories were trying to surface, though he held them back. Still, he felt a clear preference for the massive hamr.
Miguel let out a small laugh.
"I’m sure Gabriel will be happy soone’s putting that thing to use. Go ahead—it’s yours now."
Uriel lowered the hamr slowly, but didn’t let go.
"Then I’ll keep it."
Miguel nodded.
For a mont, silence filled the armory.
But it wasn’t an empty silence.
It was the kind of silence that cos right before sothing important.
Uriel looked at the weapon in his hands.
And for the first ti since entering the tower...
He felt like things were truly beginning now. Things would be different.
His fighting style would change completely—but he didn’t really mind. No matter what ca, he would crush any enemy—monster or human—that stood before him.
Suddenly, the doors to the room opened, and the Oracle of Soleil entered.
She approached Uriel with calm steps.
"Uriel, Viviane is here to speak with you."
Reviews
All reviews (0)