*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Kingdom of Satar, Capital City Parthanon*
*Click. Click. Clack.*
Demir finally finished his new and improved armor set. Unlike the junk parts he had made in Safe Hollow, now he had the budget to get rare tal mixes. He had crafted a six-piece set with magical defense, each piece carefully forged and enchanted.
The Reinforced Steel Chest Piece sat on the anvil, gleaming. B grade, with a vitality rune attached giving ten percent vitality boost, plus a vitality stone adding five to his vitality stat. Fifteen percent physical damage reduction and additional stat bonuses made it his finest protective work yet, finished with a two percent general damage reduction enchantnt.
The matching head piece, shoulder guards, leg pieces, and hand guards all bore similar enchantnts. Each piece was B grade with five percent physical damage reduction, vitality bonuses, and the sa defense enchantnt.
But the true prize was the set bonus. When he wore all pieces together, trace amounts of mythril inside the reinforced steel gave him ten percent magic damage reduction as a passive skill.
The marketplace didn't have enough vitality stones for the whole set, but he had managed to get one bead enchantnt on each piece. Making them all from the sa material had granted him the passive skill.
But one thing remained to experint with. He was still a little afraid to try, but he was also determined.
Marco leaned against the workbench, watching nervously. "Are you sure you want to test this on your precious sword?"
"I am." Demir took a breath. "Ready the beads, please."
He put his orichalcum sword on the anvil and started to enchant the damage bead to the blade. The white light flashed, then red, then yellow, then blue. His hamr swung true. Right after that, Marco handed him another heated bead.
Marven was eating her nails at the corner. Demir had never seen her this nervous.
"Marv, you're making nervous too."
"I an, I've never seen more than one enchantnt on equipnt. We could have gotten a higher-degree enchantnt instead."
"Those are too expensive. Later, maybe, for better equipnt." He watched the bead begin to glow. "This is a mini-ga. What could go wrong?"
But the second enchantnt turned out to be much harder. The flashes were happening too fast, and Demir was catching his charged swings at the last possible seconds. His arms burned. Sweat dripped into his eyes.
Finally, he thought he had it. The bead flashed another color.
"Oh, shit..." He had missed. Not expecting the final flash to co so soon, the bead puffed into air. Another gold, gone.
Marco sighed. "I guess enchanting another increases difficulty."
They tried again. This ti Demir managed to catch all the new flashes, adjusting his timing. He managed to implent the second damage increase bead to his sword. Wolf's Vow now glead with doubled enchantnt power.
"Okay, ready another one, Marco. I'll try the third."
But the third enchantnt was beyond Demir's speed. The flashes ca in bursts so fast they blurred together. Three beads shattered into nothing before they gave up.
"Four percent damage increase to Wolf's Vow is enough for now," Demir said, wiping his brow.
The trio packed their stuff and started their walk to the Tournant Coliseum. The below-fifty tournant and above-fifty tournant were going to happen at the sa ti, with the below-fifty matches arranged just before the real show, an official had explained.
---
When they arrived at the arena, it had already transford into a giant carnival.
Street vendors lined every thoroughfare, selling food on sticks and entertainnt of every kind. Jugglers tossed flaming torches. Musicians played competing lodies from different corners. Fortune tellers sat in silk-draped booths promising glimpses of glory to co. The sll of roasted at and sweet pastries filled the air.
Most people crowded at the windows of nearby shops, checking out the latest crafts and weapons on display. Marco pulled Demir toward Quarnion's place to look.
The shop was crowded with custors, people pressing against each other to see Demir's work displayed in the front window. His swords caught the light, their enchantnts making them glow faintly.
Marco's jaw tightened. "It's all your work. And that bastard tried to mug us, kidnap us, and didn't even pay our share."
"Co on, Marco. We can't dwell on that. Plus, Turbo will get our share."
Marven approached from a nearby stall, carrying three cones. "I really missed outside food. Finally, sothing resembling our ice cream!"
They each took one and licked eagerly.
They almost spit it out simultaneously.
"What the hell is this?" Demir coughed.
Marco made a face. "I think it's just butter."
"Noooo..." Marven's eye twitched. "I will kill them."
Turbo and Kirious were approaching from the distance, waving hands. Turbo's gang walked behind them, smiling and showing off their newly forged weapons.
Turbo struck a pose when he reached them, turning to show off his uniform. "Guess what we've been hired as." He gestured to his crew. "Security for the west gate. An honest business."
Kirious snorted. "A chance to steal prizes, you an."
"Shut up. We decided to transition to security. Less pay, but at least our employer doesn't want us dead afterward."
"Only their enemies," Kirious muttered.
Turbo looked around at the crowd. "We'll be at the west gate for the duration of the tournant. I can't watch the gas, but good luck from now on, Demir. You deserve to win." He let out a little laugh. "I an, not physically. But for your good heart."
Kirious clapped his hands. "Okay, enough glaze. Go to your post." He turned to Demir. "Let's get you signed up."
---
When they reached the gates to sign up, two guards stopped them. "Only contestants from here on."
Demir said his goodbyes.
Kirious pressed forward. "Co on, the boss man loves . Let just enter as well." He produced two silver coins, but the guards pushed Kirious back to Marco's side.
Alef and Lysara were waving from upstairs, calling Marco and Marven to their booth.
When Demir entered the registration area, he saw a couple of players waiting to be processed. The area wasn't that big, a historical reenactnt place with stone pillars and faded tapestries. But there was an out-of-place wall and a small window that clearly didn't belong to the original architecture.
Demir felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw his old custor, the baker Ouz.
"So you really ca."
Demir smiled. "I said I would."
"Good luck, Demir. I hope we only et at the final."
Demir looked around. "How do you think they determine if we're below fifty?"
Ouz shrugged. "That small window over there. They have sothing inside, and they put a cable to your temple. Then they know your level."
Demir nodded as if he understood, but he guessed they must have so device like Marco's glasses.
When Demir's turn ca, he approached the window and bowed slightly. A voice from inside ca, flat and bored. "Na and level?"
"Demir Strovan. Level twelve."
A black cable touched his temple from inside, but Demir couldn't see the operator through the darkened glass.
"Actually level twelve... and master smith, et cetera, et cetera. Okay, you can race in below fifty. Next!" The voice called out, and the cold cable was pulled from Demir's temple.
Demir walked two steps away, trying to understand. *They can see my level. My title. Everything.*
*I need that device*, he thought.
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