Chapter 84: Pressure

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: Pressure

As the last target construct shattered on the melee floor, the scoring arrays recorded the metrics into encrypted imperial slates rather than displaying them on the stadium screens. The evaluators maintained strict confidentiality, locking away the standings so the final reveal would occur all at once at the end of the entire competition.

The grand horns sounded once again, signaling the immediate transition to the Ranged Combat Category. Heavy subterranean gears rumbled beneath the sand as the arena floor reconfigured, raising dynamic long-range shooting galleries, moving target drones, and swirling wind-simulation matrices.

Mirei stood up from Squad 07’s private gallery, her posture calm and her face a mask of absolute, icy focus. Adjusting her gear, she picked up her sleek, translucent Breeze-Striker Longbow and began her descent down the stone stairwell toward the arena ground.

Halfway down the arched corridor, she met Caelen coming up, rolling his shoulder to work out the tension after his grueling melee run. Neither needed to offer words of encouragement or ask how the scores went—their twin bond and shared training said everything. As they crossed paths in the narrow stone stairwell, Caelen extended his calloused fist, and Mirei met it with a firm, silent bump before continuing straight past him without breaking her stride.

Stepping onto the arena sand, Mirei unslung her longbow and pulled a wind-blessed arrow from her quiver. She stood alone on her designated mark, adjusting to the sudden artificial gales sweeping across the range.

High above in the imperial booth, Crown Prince Julian leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes evaluating her posture and grip, while Emperor Aurelius watched silently from his dragon-scale throne. Down on the line, Mirei closed her eyes for a brief second, synchronized her breathing, and opened them with razor-sharp precision as the opening mark flashed green.

Across the sand, the arena’s central runic array ignited, spawning dozens of dynamic, holographic target projections that flickered into existence at completely random vectors, distances, and speeds. High-speed wind-disruption runes swirled across the range, testing each marksman’s ability to calculate drift instantly under pressure.

Mirei moved with terrifying, fluid efficiency. The moment a target materialized—whether a flickering decoy at maximum range or a fast-moving drone darting through simulated gales—her Breeze-Striker Longbow sang. Drawing and releasing in continuous, rhythmic succession, her mana-tipped arrows struck dead-center with zero hesitation, locking in maximum speed and pinpoint accuracy ratings on the private evaluator slates before the projections could even fully resolve.

When the trial horn sounded, the target projections dissolved into light, and the scoring system encrypted Mirei’s metrics alongside Caelen’s melee results. Unstringing her longbow, Mirei walked calmly back up the marble stairs to Squad 07’s private viewing suite. As she walked in, Caelen extended a fist to return the bump, and Rowan gave her an approving nod.

"Textbook execution," Seraphina noted, checking the linger-decay on the target field.

Before Mirei could even take her seat, the arena floor shifted once again. Subterranean lifts rumbled beneath the stone, raising ten fully equipped master crafting stations into the ring. High-heat elemental hearths roared to life with blazing mana-flames, flanked by heavy enchanted anvils, runic quenching troughs, and racks loaded with raw materials—ranging from rare metal ingots and spirit-grained ironwood to thermal quartz crystal.

The host’s voice boomed over the stadium: "Next in our championship lineup—the Blacksmithing & Forge Artifact Competition!"

***

It was Barney’s turn to shine.

Barney rose from his chair, a wide, hungry grin breaking across his broad face as he rested the heavy head of the Hammer of the Sunken Bastion casually over his shoulder. He cracked his knuckles, the deep rumble of his excitement practically vibrating through his armor.

"Time to teach those pompous capital smiths what real frontline metallurgy looks like," Barney grunted, his eyes fixed on the roaring hearths below.

Rowan tilted up the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, looking at their vanguard smith with a confident smile. "Go forge an artifact that leaves the Emperor himself speechless, Barney."

"Consider it done, Cap," Barney boomed with a boisterous laugh.

With heavy, deliberate strides, Barney marched down the private stairwell toward the arena floor, ready to take center stage under the golden gaze of Emperor Aurelius and the entire capital

Stepping up to his designated crafting station, Barney looked over the workstation, his eyes widening slightly at the sheer caliber of stock laid out before him. Unlike previous trials that tested basic refinement out of scrap metal, the evaluators had supplied the finalists with genuine, high-tier raw materials—slabs of pure mythril, refined solar-grade steel, and shimmering liquid-mana quenching conduits.

Instead of charging into a high-speed sprint like many of the capital artificers around him, Barney took a deep breath and relaxed his massive shoulders. Speed wasn’t the goal today; absolute, unyielding craftsmanship was.

Reaching for two pristine billets of high-grade solar-steel and a fine ingot of mythril, Barney decided on twin daggers—a weapon type that demanded flawless weight distribution, micro-grained density, and razor-sharp precision across two identical blades.

Igniting his elemental hearth, Barney let the furnace reach optimal forging temperatures before placing the stock inside. When the metal glowed with an even, translucent amber hue, he retrieved his first billet with heavy tongs and brought down the Hammer of the Sunken Bastion.

CLANG... CLANG... CLANG...

His strikes were deliberate, slow, and deeply rhythmic. Every single blow from the relic hammer drove out the tiniest lingering impurities, meticulously folding the solar-steel and mythril into hundreds of whisper-thin, alternating layers. Barney worked with unhurried, razor-sharp focus—carefully drawing the distal tapers, shaping the sweeping recurve of the edges, and carving smooth, flush channels down the spines for seamless mana flow.

He didn’t rush the quenching phase either, submerging the glowing twin blades into a specialized temperature-controlled solution, listening closely to the deep, steady hiss as the crystalline structures set into permanent, unbreakable harmony. He spent the remaining minutes hand-polishing the steel to a mirrored sheen, wrapping the hilt tangs in supple spirit-leather, and filing the edges until they could split a hair drifting in the air.

When the trial horn sounded, the senior evaluator ran a high-tier diagnostic crystal down the mirrored length of the twin daggers. A bright holographic readout flared over Barney’s forge:

[ CRAFTING EVALUATION RESULT ] Item: Twin Solar-Mythril Daggers

Quality: C+ Grade

Properties: High Mana Conductivity, Exceptional Structural Integrity, Dual-Core Resonance

Barney let out a deep, chest-rumbling chuckle of genuine satisfaction. C+ Grade—a complete breakthrough and the single highest quality craft he had ever produced in his life.

Wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm, Barney unslung the Hammer of the Sunken Bastion, resting it comfortably over his broad shoulder. He gathered his new masterwork pieces for the judges’ final vault collection and turned away from the cooling hearth.

Walking up the stone stairwell with a confident, proud stride, Barney re-entered Squad 07’s private viewing balcony.

"Not a bad day at the forge," Barney grunted with a wide, soot-dusted grin, settling into his seat beside his squadmates. "Best pair of blades I’ve ever hammered out."

"C+ Grade under live arena conditions..." Rowan praised, adjusting the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat with an approving smile. "You set the bar ridiculously high, Barney."