Rise of the Living Forge

Chapter 80: Trade offer

Arwin and Lillia strode down the alley at a brisk pace. According to Rodrick’s guess, they should have had around ten or fifteen minutes before Erik showed up. The fighting behind them had grown a little, but it was already starting to fade into the distance behind them.

Reya had done a great job creating a distraction. And, judging by the fact that it was still going, Arwin was pretty sure she’d gotten out of it. That took a large weight off his chest. He knew she wasn’t a child, but the idea of her getting killed while they were avenging someone else made him sick.

I can’t protect everyone. Bah. Doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that. It doesn’t change shit.

“Don’t you think we should have run into Erik by now?” Lillia asked from the shadows beside Arwin. “It’s been almost all the time that Rodrick said it should take him, and we’re getting a little far from the guild.”

“Maybe he ended up staying at the restaurant for longer?” Arwin guessed. “It’s just across the street, and even though the fight is kind of far, that explosion was fairly loud. Maybe it spooked him.”

“What, you think he’s hiding in there?” Lillia asked doubtfully. “The second in command of a guild, hiding like a complete coward when an explosion goes off in his own hall? Ridiculous.”

Arwin shrugged. “I don’t have any better ideas. Do you see him?”

“No,” Lillia admitted. “I suppose all we can do is wait here for a little. Walking into the restaurant would be way too obvious.”

“Probably. Let’s just sit in the alley and wait for someone who sticks their head out and looks a little more concerned about the explosion than anyone else. There’s always the chance that Erik managed to avoid us through the usage of a movement ability or something. He might have sprinted for the explosion the moment he heard it.”

And that was what they did. Minutes turned to five, and five turned to ten. Arwin wished the windows of the restaurant were larger, but he had no such luck. There was no way to get near it without being completely obvious or sitting down for dinner. And, given the fact that there had just been an explosion, he doubted that trying to grab a bite to eat would be seen as very logical behavior.

He was just starting to think that they really had missed Erik when the door to the restaurant creaked open and a pudgy man stuck his head out, squinting into the distance. All the sounds of the fight had finally petered off, likely contained by the Iron Hounds.

The man glanced around the street, then scurried off in the opposite direction of the guild. Arwin and Lillia exchanged a glance.

“There’s no way,” Lillia said.

“Who else? It’s the only lead we’ve got,” Arwin muttered, already setting off in pursuit.

Erik – assuming Arwin’s assumption was correct – was painfully easy to follow. He was completely unaware of his surroundings, despite his constant stops to look around and check to see if anyone was on his tail. He looked so obviously guilty of something that Arwin would have suspected him of just about any crime in the vicinity.

Arwin and Lillia caught up to him in less than a minute, using her magically enhanced darkness to walk right up to him along the side of the street. Erik shifted from checking to see if anyone was following him to listening intently.

Is he trying to see if the fight is already over? What a damn coward. I want to just kill him here, but I need to make sure this is actually the right guy. I’m not going to murder some random paranoid guy because he didn’t want to get caught up in a fight.

Arwin glanced at Lillia, then nodded to Erik. She shrugged, indicating that she’d stay back and be ready to support him if a fight started.

“Hey there,” Arwin said, raising a hand in greeting as he stepped into the alley. Erik leapt nearly a foot into the air, spinning toward him.

“Who are you?” Erik demanded. “Where did you come from?”

“Running from the fight over there,” Arwin said, nodding in the direction Erik was heading. “I was heading over to apply to the Iron Hounds, but a bunch of thieves got into a huge scuffle and a mage started blowing shit up so I got out of there before I got my head taken off by accident.”

Arwin was pretty sure he’d done a fairly convincing job in his speech, but Erik didn’t even look slightly assured by it.

“Well, you should be on your way,” Erik said, flicking his hand irritably. “I have business to attend to, and I have no desire to speak to anyone that approaches me in a dark alley.”

Honestly, probably a pretty good life motto.

“I don’t blame you. I’ll be out of your hair, then. I was just wondering if you happened to know where the guild leader was – or anyone in power, really. I got wind that the Iron Hounds were in search of a smith and would pay well.”

“Well, come back to the guild tomorrow. We’re obviously not going to be taking applicants while there’s a blasted fight going on right outside it.”

“Oh you’re part of the guild?” Arwin asked, his eyes lighting up. “Could you point me in the right direction?”

“No. I’ve got no idea. I’m just a scholar. A recommendation from me isn’t going to do anything, so don’t even bother asking for it.”

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Arwin resisted the urge to blink. He’d been pretty confident that – no. He studied the man for a second, and the longer he looked at him, the more confident he became that this wasn’t a scholar.

There were no ink stains on his hands, and his clothes were all far too neat and well cared for. Arwin hadn’t known many scholars, but they’d almost always been obsessed with their work – and they definitely didn’t earn enough to dress like the man before him.

He’s lying. Is that enough for me to completely take a bet with someone’s life, though? He could just be a scared member of the guild. The only way I know for sure who this guy is if someone else identifies him or if he tells me himself – and if he lied about his class, he definitely isn’t going to tell me his name.

“I see,” Arwin said. “One last question and then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.”

“Gods, you’re persistent. What is it?”

“What does the name Ifrit mean to you?” Arwin asked, watching the man’s face closely. He might have been willing to lie, but he was a damn shit liar. And, as soon as the words left Arwin’s lips, he saw the flicker of recognition pass through the man’s features. “Ah. Hello, Erik.”

Erik’s hand blurred, magic glistening along his fingertips as they trailed through the air. A coward he may have been, but he was fast. A black dagger shot through the air, heading for Arwin’s throat. Lilla shot from the shadows and the blade rang off her armor, spinning harmlessly to the side.

Three other daggers ripped out from the darkness behind Erik at such speed that Arwin’s eyes couldn’t properly trace them. They rang off Lillia’s armor one after the other, all landing at a different spot – and all failing to penetrate its magical defenses. Lillia tensed, likely from the power the armor had just pulled from her to sustain itself. She slipped back into the darkness, not pausing for long enough to let Erik get a good enough look at her.

Arwin didn’t give Erik time to figure out what had happened. He lunged, his armor slamming into place around him. His hammer materialized in his hands and he brought it down for Erik’s head. The man let out a terrified scream and raised his hands as if they would somehow stop a massive hammer from crushing him like an overripe berry – and a resounding clang echoed through the street.

A powerful force slammed into Arwin’s arms, flinging Verdant Blaze from his grip. He stumbled backward, dismissing the hammer with [Arsenal] before it could land on someone by accident.

Standing before Erik was a tall man, a dark beard covering the bottom half of his face that matched the pitch-black armor covering his body. It vaguely resembled the carapace of a beetle – glossy and smooth, curling up to jutting points at his shoulders.

The man lowered his sword, and the Mesh tingled at Arwin’s eyes as he tried and failed to study it. The weapon was definitely magic, but the man either chose not to or was unable to completely hide its nature.

Did he use an ability to block me there? Because, if not – holy shit. This guy is disgustingly strong. He definitely isn’t an Apprentice Tier. The Guild Leader, then?

“Who are you?” the man asked, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes. “And the woman… her armor blocked an enchanted weapon. Fascinating. No mere thieves, I would say. Why are you trying to kill my second in command?”

Arwin held the man’s gaze, not giving away an inch, but he prepared his legs to activate [Scourge] and sprint in the other direction. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could handle a Journeyman Tier that actually knew what they were doing.

“You’d be Jessen, then,” Arwin said, making no move to answer his question.

“It seems you have the advantage over me. I still have no idea who you are.”

And that’s exactly how I want it to stay. If you find out who we are, you come after the tavern next. What the hell is Jessen doing all the way out here? It makes no sense. There’s no way he cares this much about some random coward. Unless he’s pretending to be some honorable figure rather than the murderer he is?

“I think I’d like to keep it that way,” Arwin said, fighting to keep his gaze on Jessen. If the man didn’t recognize his mask, then it was very likely that Erik had been acting on orders but had never passed details along. And, if that was the case, the only way everyone had a chance to get out of this alive would be if Erik didn’t.

“Then it seems we have a problem,” Jessen said. His voice shifted, turning to a syrup-laden drawl. “I can’t let anyone go around trying to murder my people in cold blood.”

Arwin’s teeth grit as he fought to keep his anger under control. Claiming that he was the one going around heartlessly murdering people when Jessen had been the one to kill Zeke was like grinding nails on chalkboard in Arwin’s ears.

His mind raced as he tried to find a way that would let him get to Erik and escape before Jessen stopped him, but nothing came to mind. He’d already felt how much more power Jessen had than he did. Even with [Scourge], Arwin would only be able to put up a fight for a few blows before he lost.

Which means I need to play his game if I want a chance of coming out on top of this.

“That’s the angle you’re going to take?” Arwin asked, his features twisting in disgust as he dismissed his helm. “Your men murdered an innocent and destroyed my smithy, and you claim that I’m the one that’s cold blooded?”

“An innocent?” Jessen tilted his head to the side. “I gave no such orders.”

“Your idiots destroyed the smithy while a child was in it,” Arwin spat. “Burned him alive. So go ahead. Give me your cold-hearted speech. Every word that leaves your lips might as well be poison.”

Jessen’s eyes narrowed in anger. Arwin wasn’t sure if it was directed at his words or him, and he didn’t particularly care. Jessen hadn’t denied ordering the destruction of his smithy – and that meant Jessen was responsible. He, like the others, would die.

“Who?” Jessen asked. “Who did it?”

“What, are you going to punish them?” Arwin asked with a bark of laughter. “A slap on the wrist, maybe?”

“Who?” Jessen roared, slamming his sword into the wall beside him. Stone crumbled away, cascading to the ground at his feet.

“Tix.” Arwin held three fingers up, then lowered one of them. “She’s dead.” He lowered a second finger and nodded toward the direction of the guild hall. “Yul. Also dead.” Arwin was left with just his middle finger standing, and he turned his gaze to Erik. “And the coward.”

And you, Jessen. But, if you’re going to be pretending to be some righteous asshole, I’ll play along. Let’s see if you murder your own man for me.

“Dead?” Jessen's expression flickered, then turned flat. “I see. A smith has killed two of my men?”

“My only regret is that I couldn’t kill them a second time,” Arwin said honestly. “And the fat one is next.”

Jessen pressed his lips together and let a sigh slide out from between them. “Ah. I can’t let you do that. I’m afraid I have need of Erik.”

Of course you do.

A smug grin passed over Erik’s features.

“Would you settle for his arms and legs?” Jessen asked.

Erik’s smile froze and fell away, and a pit formed in the center of Arwin’s chest. He recognized the type of man that Jessen was.

He’s the kind of guy that honestly thinks that he can trade lives like currency. He genuinely believes that this is a reasonable trade, and he doesn’t care in the slightest about his subordinate at all.

Making a deal with him is the same as putting your hand in a bear trap and waiting for it to go off – and I don’t know if I’ve got any other options.

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