Chapter 483: Chapter 483: Tournant and the Brass Fortress
Chapter 483: Tournant and the Brass Fortress
"Boom!"
A pillar of fire shot into the sky, flas raging as the player on the battlefield was reduced to ashes.
A woman with golden vertical pupils and long dragon horns waved her hand, and the fire instantly vanished.
She turned and slightly bowed, acknowledging the audience.
The comntator’s voice rang with excitent. "Another exhilarating match! A crushing victory!"
"Let’s congratulate Sumr Night Autumn Rain on winning this match!"
The audience erupted in cheers, and fervent fans waved light signs energetically.
"Autumn Rain, my wife!"
"I love her so much!"
"Autumn Rain is amazing! Beautiful and fierce! Totally in love!"
"Of course she’s amazing—she’s my wife."
"Sumr Night Autumn Rain is your wife? I call dibs first! Soone wake this guy up."
"Damn it! She’s obviously my wife!"
"Dear viewers and contestants, welco everyone."
"Today marks the third day of the preliminaries, and as we can see, excitent remains high. This round’s contestants are..."
The comntators’ voices echoed through the arena.
The preliminaries were in full swing. Most top-tier star players remained undefeated, while dark horses erged from the crowd.
Many iconic monts had already been born:
Rainy Night City summoning the "Undead Trinity" to gang up on an opponent, Born Battle Maniac cleaving a max-level Holy Paladin in half—shield and all—Charlotte’s textbook-perfect spell counter...
However, with nearly 100,000 participants and 154 arenas running twelve days of matches,
each arena had to host an average of fifty matches per day.
Those who had already secured their spot in the main tournant were busy preparing. Information on professional players was being sold on the black market for exorbitant prices.
One of the most anticipated "professional players," Mantou, was troubled about his weapon.
As a three-match undefeated contestant, he had already qualified, with no need to worry about elimination rounds.
But in his second match yesterday, he had been hit by a "suicidal" assault from a Machinist player.
That opponent had rushed him with a pack full of electromagnetic bombs, nearly blowing him out of the sky. Fortunately, Noodles reacted quickly, flipping midair and escaping the explosion’s range.
Though he was unhard, his trusty rare-quality "Crimson Scale Standard Lance" had been destroyed in the fight, making his heart ache.
So, he sought out a player from the chanist Cult to buy new equipnt.
"You want to buy a lee weapon?"
Battlefield Wheelchair Man sounded baffled.
"Wouldn’t a semi-automatic rifle be better? I’ve got an M1 Garand replica, an elental lightning launcher..."
"No, you don’t understand the romance of a lance charge!"
Battlefield Wheelchair Man sighed in disappointnt but continued, "If it’s lee weapons you want, the chanist Cult doesn’t produce the highest quality."
"Actually, if you’re after top-tier lee weapons, I’d recomnd the Brass Fortress."
"The fire dwarves there forge the best lee weapons—even legendary-quality artifacts have co from them."
"Oh?"
Hearing the word "legendary," Mantou’s eyes glead—he’d never pulled a decent item from a loot box in his life.
"Where’s this Brass Fortress you’re talking about?"
"The Elental Plane of Fire."
—One day later—
Elental Plane of Fire, Brass Fortress, outside the Empire Affairs Office.
"So many people."
Holding his freshly issued Fire Plane transit permit, Mantou looked at the bustling crowds and busy fire dwarves, grinning.
In the city’s center, a massive statue of the Dwarven God stood tall and imposing. The brass houses were intricately crafted, and the air was filled with the clang of smithing hamrs.
In the distance, steam-billowing factories, seemingly newly built in an imperial style, lood.
So this was where artifacts were made?
It fit his imagination perfectly.
"But all these fire dwarves look exactly the sa, like they ca from the sa mold."
Mantou spotted a nearby smithy with a sign reading "Gino’s Weapon Workshop."
On the weapon rack, exquisite gear was displayed—all "rare" quality weapons, including his beloved lances.
"Let’s check this place out first."
Pushing the door open, Mantou stepped inside and was imdiately dumbstruck.
"What the...?!"
"Ani character?!"
His shock was understandable.
The fire dwarf before him completely defied the stereotype of burly figures with thick beards.
Round-faced, large-eyed, with delicate features and a small, slender fra. He wore a frilly brass dress, a brass butterfly ribbon, and even had twin brass ponytails.
What kind of dwarf is this?!
A legendary brass fire spirit?
This was clearly a brass loli!
But then, the so-called loli fire dwarf spoke, and his rough, gravelly voice sounded like a roaring fla:
"You’re... a Starborn?"
Gino’s expression instantly turned furious.
Yet the anger on such a delicate face made for an oddly embarrassed expression.
"Are you going to ask why I look like this?"
Mantou stifled his laughter and nodded.
Gino roared, "It’s all because of you damned Starborn!"
"So bastard, in his filthy desire, swapped out the fire dwarf smithing mold—so now I look like this! I don’t have the strong body or glorious beard of my kin! I’ve been laughed at since birth!"
"He even said I had the cutest appearance! That bastard—I want to smash his skull in with a brass hamr!"
"By Moradin, because of you Starborn, I’ve beco the weakest, ugliest fire dwarf in a century!"
"Pfft—"
Mantou couldn’t hold back his laughter.
"What are you laughing at?!"
A burly-voiced loli dwarf—it was impossible not to laugh.
After venting, Gino crossed his slender arms and pouted. "Starborn, what do you want?"
Mantou said, "My weapon is broken. I need a new lance."
Gino snorted and turned away. "Go sowhere else. Starborn aren’t welco here."
Mantou wasn’t offended—in fact, he was still struggling not to laugh.
A tsundere loli fire dwarf?
Great video material.
A new weapon and a viral video—two birds with one stone.
Speaking of which, the chanist Cult’s ani-obsessed guy really was sothing—he changed the smithing mold just to make fire dwarves into collectible figurines.
With that, Mantou put on a serious face. "I may be a Starborn, but I’m not him."
"Blaming
for his actions isn’t fair. Do you want people to call you ’Gino, the petty fire dwarf’?"
Gino hesitated, fingers fidgeting.
After a long silence, he muttered, "You... may have a point."
"Sorry..."
His voice was barely a whisper.
Fire dwarves were honest folk, quick to recognize their mistakes.
"That’s the spirit!"
"Mistakes are fine, as long as you own up and improve!"
Mantou laughed.
Looking at the loli fire dwarf, his voice turned earnest.
"Gino, your looks won’t change, but you can better yourself."
"Life isn’t about appearances."
Mantou patted Gino’s shoulder with a determined gaze.
"Looks don’t matter. It’s what’s inside that counts! Since you were born this way, all the more reason to work hard and improve yourself!"
He raised his hand, pointing into the distance with conviction.
"I believe that as long as you work hard and treat others kindly, even without a strong body, you can beco a great fire dwarf!"
"I... you..."
"You... you’re right!"
Gino clenched his small fists. Having never been fed motivational speeches before, the pure-hearted fire dwarf was clearly moved.
If he weren’t a fire elental, unable to produce tears, his eyes would likely be misty.
"Mantou, you’re different from them. You’re a good Starborn."
"I’ll forge you the best weapon right now! I’ll show everyone that I, Gino, can be a great fire dwarf too!"
"Alright!"
Mantou nodded with a grin.
Perfect!
A new weapon and video material—how could things get any better?
Suddenly, he felt the loli fire dwarf tugging at his sleeve, looking a bit shy. "I think what you said makes a lot of sense."
"Would you... like to et my friends? They’d probably be happy to craft gear for you too."
"Of course!"
Mantou turned and was imdiately dumbfounded.
Walking toward him were several bizarre-looking fire dwarves.
One looked like a chanical cat, another had a face straight out of a K-pop surgery clinic, one resembled Ultraman, and another was straight-up a Transforr.
The sheer variety made Mantou wonder if he had entered the wrong ga.
Who the hell was responsible for this?!
Absolutely unhinged!
And their taste was surprisingly diverse.
"They’re all victims of that bastard Starborn too. Because of their appearances, they can’t integrate into fire dwarf society."
"Holy crap, this is wild..."
Mantou muttered, reaching out a hand.
"Wait—"
"Hm?"
The loli fire dwarf turned back, curious.
"Have you guys ever considered expanding your business? Like offering Starborn guided tours... or paid photo sessions?"
—Several days later—
Fully equipped with brand-new gear, Mantou arrived at the First Arena, beaming with confidence.
Singo eyed his gleaming armor and the nacing lance, looking puzzled. "Did you rob a bank?"
"What do you an rob a bank? My friends made this for !"
"What kind of friends can craft rare-quality gear? Even though it doesn’t have many magical properties, the base stats are insane."
Mantou thought for a mont before replying seriously, "A loli, a chanical cat, a K-pop surgery face, a Transforr, and Hatsune Miku."
Singo: "..."
Mantou grinned. "Don’t sweat the details. We’re here for the tournant, aren’t we?"
"I heard Battle Maniac has a match today?"
Singo replied calmly, "Not just Battle Maniac. A few professional players are also having their final preliminary matches. It’s a good chance to observe their strength."
"What about Autumn Rain?"
"She has too many fans in the audience. If she shows up, it turns into an autograph session. I’ll just send her the recordings later."
"Damn, that’s next-level."
Mantou couldn’t help but give him a thumbs-up.
Singo continued, "Unfortunately, the professionals haven’t revealed their full strength yet."
"There are too many participants in the preliminaries, so professionals rarely get matched against each other. Most of their battles are complete stomps—there’s not much to analyze."
"Especially the professional spellcasters, like Charlotte. He’s only been using Fireball, so no one can tell what his actual spell rotation is."
Mantou crossed his arms and said lazily, "Singo, you’re too cautious. I never bother studying my opponents."
"Just roll with the punches!"
Singo glanced at him and said coolly, "If you get your ass kicked later, don’t go crying to the referees, regretting your choices."
The referee’s voice rang out.
"Contestant #12533, Born Battle Maniac."
"Glory to Born Battle Maniac!"
"Battle Maniac, wreck ’em all!"
The audience erupted in cheers.
Born Battle Maniac was a seasoned professional, well-known across multiple gas, with his own fanbase in "Erezaghe".
"Battle Maniac is here!"
Mantou also grew excited.
He much preferred spectating to getting blown up in the arena.
"Contestant #23335, Midnight Sonata."
The audience roared again—but this ti with rage, not excitent.
Players who had been robbed by Midnight Sonata fud, wishing they could personally jump into the arena and take him down.
"That bastard thief!"
"Finally!"
"I’m now officially a Battle Maniac fan!"
"Battle Maniac, chop that scumbag’s head off!"
As the referee ushered them forward, a shirtless Battle Maniac and a hooded Midnight Sonata entered the arena.
Singo comnted blandly, "Now this is going to be interesting. I’ve researched Midnight Sonata—he’s a scumbag, but he’s skilled."
Mantou was intrigued.
"So, Battle Maniac might lose?"
"Not a chance. Just watch. You’ll see soon enough."
The referee’s call echoed through the arena.
"Begin!"
Night Poem was an 8th-level Rogue player who had chosen the [Thief] subclass.
In his previous two matches, he had used Mist Spell and his natural agility alongside his Quick Hands proficiency to toy with his opponents, even stealing all of their equipnt mid-fight.
At this mont, Night Poem gazed at Born Battle Maniac in the distance.
"This guy looks troubleso."
"But a big shot like him must have plenty of good gear."
"No matter—I’ll muddy the waters first, then fish in the chaos!"
He tossed a smoke bomb forward, instantly shrouding the battlefield in thick mist, obscuring all vision.
"Damn Black Rat!"
"Shit, I can’t see a thing!"
"Goddamn it, of course the Black Rat would pull a stunt like this and interfere with the match!"
Suddenly, an enraged roar erupted from within the smoke.
"AHHHHHH—!"
A massive shockwave exploded outward from Born Battle Maniac’s position, instantly dispersing the smoke and forcefully shoving Night Poem away as soon as he reached for his opponent.
Night Poem looked down at his now empty hands, his expression filled with shock. "What?"
"H-He doesn’t have any equipnt?!"
"He only has that axe!"
"No problem, I still have other tricks!"
From within his robes, Night Poem pulled out an array of gadgets—smoke bombs, sonic grenades, disruption arrows, poison vials, charm scrolls—and hurled them toward Born Battle Maniac.
The sheer number of devious, ruthless effects packed into his attacks was enough to make anyone’s scalp tingle.
But what he hadn’t expected was that, as a high-level Berserker, Born Battle Maniac possessed the path trait [Selfless Fury]—during his berserk state, he was nearly immune to all forms of crowd control.
In his heightened, beast-like combat intuition, no enemy could escape his sight!
"DIE!"
With blood-red eyes, Born Battle Maniac raised his massive battle-axe high and let out a furious war cry before swinging it down with all his might.
"BOOM!"
Blood splattered everywhere, soaking the black robes. The sheer force of the strike even split the ground apart.
"Fighting is exhilarating!"
From the audience ca an unprecedented wave of cheers—not only for Born Battle Maniac’s overwhelming strength but also in celebration of a certain soone’s brutal demise.
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