Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin swung by Lillia’s kitchen on the way back to the Infernal Armory to grab a plate of food. He was going to need it if the armory was going to be of any use to him again today, and there were still a few solid hours left to work with. Hours he couldn’t afford to waste.

He’d made the housing for a Dungeon Heart once before. That already made his task considerably easier. Re-making something with a few little tweaks was a whole lot easier that coming up with a whole new system.

Granted, he’d had a lot of help from Lillia that time around, but she was busy on her own preparations right now. They had to optimize time — and it wasn’t like he’d be working alone.

Arwin stepped into the Infernal Armory’s back room and poured the food Lillia had prepared into its waiting maw. It vanished without a trace, and muted grinding noises marked the millstone within the building converting the matter into magical energy.

Red mist twisted across the ground at Arwin’s feet. Invisible footsteps strode across the room as the entity that inhabited the building came to a stop before him.

“You returned early. It is not yet the morrow.”

“There’s still more to do,” Arwin said. “But luckily, this next part shouldn’t be too difficult. I trust that meal was enough to keep you kicking for a few more hours?”

The crimson mist rippled as the Armory seemed to shrug in response. “You have provided me with sufficient strength. I will be able to continue on. I am unsure if the same can be said for you. There is only so much strength within a mortal body.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Arwin said through a grunt. “I can make it through a few more pieces, especially ones that I’ve already made before. With your help, it should be quite simple. I need to make the housing for another Dungeon Heart.”

“Another Dungeon Heart?” The Infernal Armory almost sounded displeased. “For what purpose? I am sufficient.”

“I’m not replacing you,” Arwin said with a snort. “I need to reinforce the Devil’s Den. Lillia’s building. We need it to become as powerful as you, since it’s the location where we have the biggest advantage.”

Mist twitched back and forth. Tendrils of it swirled across the ground before gathering back into a cloud near Arwin’s feet. “Understood. It will further our strength. Very well. I can aid with this. Are you certain that you have the mental capacity to properly create what we need? It is remarkably easy to damage a Dungeon Heart if it is used incorrectly.”

“I won’t be doing the final step today,” Arwin said with a wave of his hand. His jaw tightened and he blew out a short breath. “We can’t afford to get that greedy. If it turns out that we can’t handle Twelve… I’m not risking the others’ lives. But if we can, I need to be in a position where I can maximize the chances of success.”

The armory trembled around Arwin as an anvil rose up from the ground before him. Red mist swirled across its surface. It curled up the invisible figure of the armory, briefly illuminating its humanoid form before collapsing to the ground once more.

“Wise. We will prepare the initial components, then. That should be within our abilities for the day.”

The corner of Arwin’s lips twitched.

It almost seems worried about me. Maybe I really have to take a close look at how hard I’m pushing myself if the power hungry building is starting to wonder if there’s something wrong with my head.

Bah. I’ll deal with that when I get some breathing room. There will be room for rest after my preparation is done.

“Good,” Arwin said. He extended a hand and Verdant Inferno snapped into place, an eager hum rolling through his mind.

The sensation was joined by a tiny prodding sensation. A flicker of irritation, concentrated into a point and sent into Arwin’s spine. Visions of the hammer’s core — or rather, the lack thereof — floated through Arwin’s head unbidden. He winced.

Sorry. I’ll get on that soon, I promise. There’s just so much that I need to do, and I can’t risk focusing myself or you over the others. We have to optimize. But I swear, if we get a chance, I’ll make you a core. If not before Twelve, then soon afterward.

Approval flowed into him from the hammer.

“Okay,” Arwin said, turning his attention back to the Infernal Armory. Black veins slithered out from the wall and rose into the air behind him. He tensed his back as they slammed into him, biting into his flesh and pulsing with power as they connected him with his armory. Arwin rolled his shoulders, then bared his teeth in a mixture of a smile and a snarl. “Let’s get this wrapped up before bedtime, shall we?”

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***

The moon shimmered overhead, well on its way through the sky, when Arwin next dragged himself out of the smithy. Every step through the silver-lit streets felt like agony. Every single one of his muscles ached something furious.

Smithing together with the Infernal Armory might have given him a huge amount of extra energy to work with but turned out to also be considerably rougher on his body. It really shouldn’t have been a huge surprise — pumping himself full of foreign magic to empower the items he made wasn’t exactly the gentlest process.

Still, as weary as he was, a grin was plastered across Arwin’s features. He’d made progress today. A lot of progress. Not only had he finished Olive’s arm, but he’d also managed to make every single piece up until the last part of the housing for the Dungeon Heart.

There had been a few modifications from the design he’d used for the Infernal Armory. Some pieces had been replaced, some aspects polished. It was also definitely going to end up being cursed.

If they decided that they had a chance of defeating Twelve by the end of the next day, then he would have a place to put the Dungeon Heart within just around an hour of extra work. It was the most he could do for the time being.

Tomorrow, I’ll focus on looking for a weakness we can exploit. Hopefully Rodrick finds something we can work with. If not, I’ll just get some extra pieces of armor polished up and prepared. Maybe finish the Ivory Executioner set or find out how to make Verdant Inferno’s core.

Don’t know which one, if either, yet. Can’t think properly anymore today.

Arwin dragged himself into the Devil’s Den. The common room was empty aside from Madiv, who sat in the corner of the room with a small glass of red liquid. He and Arwin exchanged a quiet nod. Everyone else had already headed off to bed in preparation for the next day.

As tired as Arwin was, he made his way over to the bath. Lillia would kill him if he showed up to bed without cleaning first.

He then made his way through the dark kitchen, the scent of freshly cooked meat and herbs still lingering tantalizingly in the air, and into the pitch darkness of Lillia’s room. Arwin edged toward the bed slowly. It was quiet, which meant Lillia might already be —

“You’re late,” Lillia said, her soft words still slicing through the darkness like a blade.

Arwin winced. “Sorry. I got caught up. I’m not too late, am I?”

“Late enough.” She found his hand in the darkness and pulled him down to the bed to sit beside her, leaning against his side. “How was progress?”

“Good,” Arwin said. “By all standards, good. I just don’t know if it was enough. I made Olive a new arm. I… think that should be a good thing. It’s cursed, but I believe she can control it. I’ve also got the majority of the preparation for installing the Dungeon Heart in the Devil’s Den wrapped up as well. All that’s left is a plan and the final polishing steps.”

“The hardest part, then,” Lillia said with a small laugh. She leaned back, pulling Arwin down with her, and they landed on the bed with a soft thump. Lillia’s tail curled around his leg and she rested her head on his chest. Her warm breath prickled against his neck as she made herself comfortable. “Rodrick is working on something. He said he’d share it tomorrow. I’ve got a few tricks ready as well. I think we might actually have a chance.”

“Tricks?” Arwin asked. “What kind?”

“I was trying to think what the biggest threats of dealing with an assassin stronger than you are. A normal fight with an assassin completely hinges on the first move. If you see them coming, you win. If you don’t, you lose. But with someone stronger than you, that advantage is gone.”

“Right.” Arwin extracted his arm from beneath Lillia’s side and let it rest on her back. “So we need a way to catch him off guard or severely weaken him.”

“Which is what I was working on. If we can get him to eat anything, that gives me an edge,” Lillia said. “But we can’t count on that alone. I was thinking — if we could get him drowsy or otherwise out of sorts before the fight starts, it would be a huge step in our favor.”

“You’re going to get him drunk, aren’t you?”

Lillia snickered. “No. A tempting idea, and one that I had myself, but he didn’t strike me as the type to waste time. I highly doubt he’ll eat much of anything voluntarily. Not unless it’s to prove a point… so I’m working with Esmerelda.”

Realization lit in Arwin. “Potions?”

“Yeah. She’s helping me make something that should make anyone who drinks it really sleepy,” Lillia said. “It won’t be as effective if it’s absorbed by the skin, but something is better than nothing — and it might partially apply Hearthmother to Twelve, giving me a bit of control. Maybe not enough to win the fight on its own, but I might be able to distract or stall him for a bit longer.”

“That is a good idea.”

“Yep. But it’s not going to help us with the aftermath. Even if we manage to beat Twelve… I doubt the fight will be quiet or private. There are too many eyes on it right now. His guild might come crashing down on us, and that is a fight we definitely can’t win, no matter how tricky we get.”

Arwin blew out a slow breath. “Yeah. The only way we can let ourselves take this fight is if we can do it without letting anyone realize what happened. It honestly would have been easier to take Raen’s offer, but…”

“It just makes me sick,” Lillia muttered. “If there’s any Godspitten way in this world I can avoid helping someone who was allies with Zeke’s killer, then I’m taking it. You can still make Raen that bracelet if we survive this.”

“Right,” Arwin said. “I—”

The rest of his sentence never made it out from between his lips. Arwin’s words died on his tongue and his eyes went wide as an idea struck his mind like a bolt of lightning.

“What?” Lillia asked.

“The bracelet,” Arwin muttered, his mind racing furiously. “I think that could actually work. I… I think I know how we might be able to kill Twelve without anybody finding out what happened to him.”