[EX] The Living Forge - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Here's another test chapter I did a while back! This is a crafting/strong-> stronger MC novel following a disillusioned warrior as he sets out to become a powerful Smith. 

As always, if you like parts of a concept, please let me know! 

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The Great Enemy stood across the ruined battlefield from Arwin, and he felt nothing but emptiness. Bodies of man and monster alike were strewn all around them like dolls tossed to the side by an unruly child.

Arwin didn’t have any friends among the dead. Anyone he could have claimed to care for had long since fallen, consumed by the war that had ruled the past twenty years of his twenty-five-year life.

There had been a time where he’d hated the armored woman before him. He’d seen her run through his best friend through with the flaming sword that she now held at her side, and he’d struck down her closest general in retaliation.

The scar along the dark skin of her left cheek and crossed over the edge of her lip matched one that Arwin sported across his right eye. They’d traded so many blows – fought so many fights – that he could have recognized her by the sound of her steps.

The corner of Arwin’s lip curled up in a passionless smile. It was ironic. He’d probably spent more time battling against the woman before him than he had with any of the members of his own army.

When Arwin had pledged his life to protect the Kingdom of Lien, he had been prepared to give his life. Instead, he had given his friends. He had given his joy. He had given his hatred. He had given everything – and now nothing was left.

He was exhausted.

“Champion of Lian,” the Great Enemy said, coming to a stop ten paces away from Arwin. Her voice lacked the thunderous presence that it normally carried. There was no need for it. Nobody was left from their armies to hear them, and so she spoke in a normal, weary tone that matched exactly how he felt. The Great Enemy raised her sword and pointed it at Arwin’s throat. “Today–”

“Today, it ends,” Arwin finished. His fingers tightened around the worn leather hilt of his sword, and he felt the magic pump through his veins and infuse his muscles. He had a considerable number of Titles and Achievements to his name, and they bore with them the power to end this endless war and finally bring peace.

“Good riddance,” the Great Enemy muttered.

They charged at each other. Even with all the power that Arwin had, he’d spent most of his magic in the earlier fight. He had nothing left but his body to fight with, and the Great Enemy didn’t seem to be in a better spot.

Arwin plunged his sword toward the Great Enemy’s heart, even as she thrust hers toward his own. He twisted his body as best as he could, but he knew it was impossible to completely avoid her attack.

Fortunately, he didn’t plan to.

Her enchanted blade carved right through his armor, slamming home into his chest just to the side of his heart. At the very same instant, Arwin’s own weapon sliced into her body and drove home between her ribs. The Great Enemy managed to shift herself as well, keeping the wound from being immediately fatal.

That’s fine. I don’t need her dead. I just need her here.

Arwin drew on every last drop of power within his body. He locked eyes with the foe that he’d been preparing to kill since his earliest memories. Not once had he ever been able to get the upper hand over her in a fight. They were perfectly matched in both skill and power.

But, for the sake of his kingdom, Arwin had no choice but to win. And there was only one way to win against an enemy that was his complete and utter equal.

It was to die with them.

Blood poured down Arwin’s chest, dripping to the ground at his feet. Dizziness gripped his mind as the world spun around him.

The conditions for [Last Light] to activate have been met. [Last Light] has been consumed.

Every last drop of power within Arwin burst forth as his body ignited with golden light. Pain erupted through every part of his being and he snarled in defiance. Magic roiled around him with such intensity that it made the air crackle.

Sickly red energy covered the Great Enemy’s body, crashing against Arwin’s magic with a thunderous explosion. The ground beneath them cracked as their power warred. Arwin’s legs trembled with exertion as the clash grew more intense.

Magic roared as it built into a violent gale around them. The battlefield vanished behind furious flashes of mystical flame, transforming into a giant vortex of destruction. Bodies and weapons spun through the air, but he and the Great Enemy remained locked in place, neither willing to back down at the last moment.

She had one last move as well. I should have known.

If Arwin hadn’t been so concentrated, he might have laughed. Instead, all he could do was bear his teeth and weather the violent energy tearing the world around him apart. It built to a crescendo, ripping into his flesh and slamming his body with powerful bolts and scorching agony that would have obliterated an ordinary man where he stood.

Instead of clashing, his magic mixed together with the red light. The power continued to build, pressing down on Arwin like the finger of a giant. It took everything he had to remain standing as a storm picked up around them.

And then, for the briefest instant, everything fell silent. Arwin and the Great Enemy stood, flashes of gold and red frozen in their peripherals. It felt like the world had taken a breath out of respect for their battle as it finally came to a close.

The magic collapsed.

A massive wall of force slammed into Arwin, driving the breath from his lungs and scorching his body. His armor and magical equipment vaporized as it tried and failed to resist the massive outpouring of energy, and then the true force of the explosion hit him with nothing left to obstruct it. He didn’t even get a chance to scream.

His consciousness sputtered and blinked out like a candle in a hurricane, and then there was only blissful nothingness.

***

But, like all things, the peace ended.

Arwin’s eyes fluttered. Then they snapped open. He drew in a desperate, ragged breath as his heart slammed desperately in his chest, suddenly remembering that it had to beat. His throat was impossibly dry and his lips cracked.

He was alive. Far above, the warm sun shone down on him from a cloudless sky.

Warm, wet dirt pressed against his back. The smell of moss and mildew surrounded Arwin, but the fact that he could breathe anything was a miracle. Coughing and gritting his teeth, he pushed himself into a seated position.

The ground released its grip on Arwin’s back with a wet squelch, but something was wrong. His body felt… strange.

Empty.

He groaned, blinking as he tried to figure out what had happened. He looked down – and, just like that, he found a problem. Arwin had changed. The enormous, magic-empowered muscles that had once covered him were nowhere to be seen. In their place were the normal, lean muscles of a workman. He’d shrunk significantly in height, going from seven feet tall to just over six.

It was a vaguely familiar body – one that he’d had before he’d advanced his Paladin of the Weak class to Level 200. All the magic he’d once possessed was gone, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He didn’t need it anymore. The Great Enemy was vanquished. His power was a small price to sacrifice for peace.

There was a thick, ropey scar right beside his heart, where he had been run through. Arwin instinctively reached for his sword, but his hand found nothing. The only thing he could find were the tattered scraps of his pants. Not even his shirt remained.

“What happened?” Arwin choked on his own words. He doubled over in a coughing fit for several seconds before managing to regain control of himself.

Slowly, Arwin pushed himself to his feet. He was somewhere in a large, marshy field. Crops surrounded him, so there was probably civilization fairly close. There were no answers in the wilderness, but the nearest city could tell him what happened.

Scanning the horizon, Arwin spotted a small gray plume in the far distance. It might have been a cloud, but he was fairly certain it was smoke from a chimney. At least, that’s what he hoped it was.

Arwin almost called on the Mesh, just to see if any of his former magic remained. But, before he could, he stopped himself. With magic came responsibility. He would be the Champion once more if anything remained. Sending one last glance down at his body, Arwin shook his head and trudged in the direction of the plume.

Hours later, a city came into view. It wasn’t one he recognized, but the stone walls stood proud, manned by several guards at the gate. They wore plain but effective chainmail armor. Even without his magic, Arwin could sense faint power emanating off them. A sigh of relief slipped from Arwin’s lips. If a city still stood, the Horde had fallen.

I won.

The guards watched Arwin with wary expressions as he approached. The dry mud caked to his body and the exhaustion on his face likely didn’t do him any favors.

“We don’t welcome beggars in Milten,” the lead guard said, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Arwin almost laughed. “My name is Arwin. I know I look different, but I’m no beggar.”

“A beggar with a name is still a beggar,” the guard said, his eyes narrow.

I suppose I can’t blame them for not recognizing me. I don’t look like what I once did. There’s no point bothering to convince them. It may actually be better that people don’t recognize me. Maybe I can finally rest and take advantage of the peace.

“I just want to bathe and hear the news,” Arwin said wearily. “I can assure you I can pay for any services I need. I will not trouble any of your citizens.”

The guards exchanged a glance. With a shake of his head, the lead guard stepped to the side. “I shouldn’t do this, but fine. You seem honest enough, but get to an inn and wash off immediately. If I catch you begging on our streets, you’ll get a boot up your ass.”

“Understood.” Arwin strode past the guards, not wanting to try his luck. He didn’t actually have any coin on him, but as long as someone was willing to offer him a bath, he’d happily wash dishes in a kitchen for as long as it took.

Despite the sun hanging straight above, the city of Milten was surprisingly quiet. There were only a few other people on the roads, and none of them gave Arwin so much as a second glance.

Stone buildings with just enough variety to avoid being an eyesore lined the streets in neat rows. After several minutes of walking, Arwin finally spotted the subject of his search. An inn, identified mostly by the cauldron burnt into a wooden sign hanging above its door, sat near the center of town.

Smoke curled from the three-story building’s chimney, and warm firelight flickered within its window from a fireplace. A newspaper had been wedged into the window, and Arwin paused for a moment to read it.

The Horde grows in power. The Kingdom of Lian calls for all capable adventurers to take to arm in its defense. Great rewards will be given to those who bring proof of their victories in battle back to the Adventurer’s Guild. We must strike before the Horde can mount an offense. It is time the Kingdom goes on the offense.

For any adventurers over Level 50, the Champion of Lian is in need of a party. Auditions are being held in the capital for the privilege of adventuring alongside him.

To lay down one’s life for the kingdom is the greatest service one can do, and you will be remembered for all eternity.

Please note: the funeral for the fallen Champion has been canceled due to weather conditions. Tickets will not be refunded.

At the bottom of the words was an image of a heavily muscled man holding a glowing sword aloft, a courageous expression on his handsome features. It was signed by the Champion of Lian – but the man on the paper wasn’t Arwin, and the signature wasn’t his either.

He stared in disbelief.

What is this? A joke?

Arwin grabbed the paper and pulled it away from the window, ripping the edges in the process. He shoved the door open and entered the inn, making a beeline for the thin innkeeper behind the bar.

“Gods, man. What happened to you?” the innkeeper asked with a grimace. “You reek.”

Arwin slammed the paper down. “What is this?”

Something about his voice must have given the innkeeper pause, because he swallowed and looked down at the paper.

“It came in the news a week ago. What about it?”

“Everything! The Great Enemy is dead! How is the Horde back?”

The innkeeper blinked, then let out a laugh. “Ah. You went on a solo adventuring trip after the war ended, didn’t you?”

So it did end?

“I – yes,” Arwin said, deciding it would be easier to go with the man’s assumptions than correct them. “I left right after the Great Enemy was struck down.”

A smile crossed the innkeeper’s face and he nodded. “I understand that. What a party it was. I swear the entire kingdom celebrated for a week straight.”

“So what happened? Why is there a missive about another war?”

The smile fell away and the innkeeper shook his head. “Sorry you’ve got to find it out like this, lad. After the celebrations, a new Great Enemy was discovered about a month later, gathering the remnants of the Horde. It’s been about two weeks since then. Luckily for all of us, the Kingdom actually had another Champion in training. We’ll all be safe, don’t you worry.”

Arwin’s ears rang. He leaned against the counter, staining it with mud, but he barely even noticed.

“So the war ended, but then it started again?”

“It’s more like it paused.” The innkeeper rubbed the back of his head, then let out a heavy sigh. “Just when it looked like everything would let up. I suppose it’s not like we aren’t used to it, though. You’ve got the build of a warrior, so you should be happy too. There’s a lot of opportunities for adventurers–”

Arwin grabbed the paper from the counter and spun, striding out of the inn as his mind roiled.

He’d won the war or, at least, his war. The peace had lasted all of a month – he had no idea where a new Great Enemy or Champion had come from, but the relief he felt was so intense that he couldn’t bring himself to care.

His duty was finished. There was a new Champion for a new war, and he was no longer required. He, along with the men and women that had fought alongside him, could rest. But still, a question lingered in Arwin’s mind.

What can I do now? I’ve been trained in killing for as long as I can remember. Can I do anything that isn’t just more blood and death? And what of my class? It’s Unique, so only one person can have it at a time. So, if I’m not the Champion, what am I?

Arwin reached out to the Mesh. He couldn’t ignore his missing power for any longer. The sentient magic that permeated the entire world, rewarding those who sought to advance their strength and sought challenge, had been only constant in his life.

And, as it always had, the Mesh responded. Glowing golden letters, visible to only him, traced through the air before him.

Name: Arwin Tyrr

Class: Living Forge (Unique) (Level: 1)

Skills:

[Awaken] (Passive) – All items forged by your hand have the potential to take on a [Unique] trait, determined by [Unknown]. The potential for the trait to be detrimental is [50%].

Titles:

[Scourge] – You have faced an entire army in combat and emerged victorious. The strength of your physical blows can be intensified by up to a factor of one hundred at cost of Magical Energy.

[Indomitable Bulwark] – You have withstood a blow that would have leveled a city. Damage from all attacks is reduced by 50%.

[The Hungering Maw] – An enormous burst of energy has permanently infused you with magic, but not without cost. You must consume objects or items with Magical Energy equivalent to your current Magical Power every week to survive. Consuming an item temporarily grants you some of its properties.

Achievements:

[Broken Bearer of Last Light] – Awarded for meeting the conditions of [Last Light]. Effects: Class Changed to Living Forge. All other Achievements and competing Titles have been consumed. This Achievement will be consumed upon reaching your next level.

Stats:

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 10

Magical Power: 10

Magical Energy: 10

Constitution: 10

Charisma: 5 (-5 due to poor hygiene)

Arwin’s hand dropped. His class and skills was gone, replaced by what seemed to be some form of craftsman class. His level was back at one. The vast majority of his Titles and Achievements – gone as well. On top of that, he’d gained a new Title that forced him to consume magical items in order to survive.

And yet… the Class was almost exactly what he had been hoping for. A chance to create rather than to destroy. Even though he hadn’t actually chosen Living Forge, it was as if the Mesh had known what he desired.

Actually, that’s likely what happened. The Mesh gives rewards that let you upgrade your class or skills whenever you get Achievements or Titles, and the upgrades are meant to help you continue on your desired path. This was my reward.

I’m finally free.

Waving the glowing screen away, Arwin started to laugh. It was on that day, covered in mud and crouched in a dark alley cackling like a madman, that the true Champion of Lian died.  The man that rose in his place was simply Arwin.

For the first time in his twenty-five years of life, he felt unburdened. For everyone else, the war was still going. It bore the promise of power and riches, and the draw was too great to resist for many adventurers.

But, for him, the war was over. He’d done his part. The only thing Arwin wanted now was peace and space to explore his new Class, and he’d be damned if he let someone take it from him.

I need to find myself a smithy. The ability to forge items with unique traits… I’ve never heard of such a power, but I can’t wait to test it out. But first, I should go back into that inn and apologize for running out. I really need a bath.