Trinity of Magic

Chapter 60: Blacksmith competition II.

  Markus and Zeke made their way through a private corridor. They were far removed from the bustling crowds of the stadium. Eager to reach the competition grounds, the both of them sped up their steps.   After turning in their tickets, they received special wristbands in exchange. The golden bracelets, which now adorned their forearms, had the purpose of granting them access to the plaza in the middle of the stadium. This was the location where the participants of the competition were gathered.   As they entered the plaza, Markus' excitement was palpable. He could barely hold himself back from jumping around like a little kid. His eyes were wide with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the competition. Zeke couldn't help but chuckle at the usually stoic blacksmith's behavior. But he was also filled with a sense of happiness, knowing that he had been able to do this for Markus. Zeke was overjoyed to know that he had made his friend so happy.   As Markus and Zeke stepped onto the stage, they were immediately enveloped in a wave of hot air. The stage seemed to be one giant forge, with rows of blacksmiths working diligently at their anvils. The sound of hammers striking metal filled the air. The cacophony of sound was accompanied by bright sparks of magical energy and the heat from the forge.   Up close, Zeke could fully appreciate the conditions the blacksmiths were working under. The heat was intense, and he could barely imagine how uncomfortable it would be to perform heavy labor under these circumstances for hours on end. His admiration for the artisans rose, as he realized the skill and dedication it took to work under these conditions.   As he glanced over at Markus, Zeke noticed that his friend seemed almost unaffected by the heat. He appeared to be just as excited as before, brushing off the heat like it was nothing. He shook his head in disbelief as he followed Markus around the area. Zeke was listening to one lecture after the other about the different styles of smithing. Markus seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject, and he was eager to share it with Zeke.   The two friends moved from one blacksmith to the next, watching as the men worked their magic on the metal. Zeke was mesmerized by the intricate patterns and designs that were taking shape under the blacksmiths' skilled hands. As they watched, they couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. The two boys understood that they were witnessing true masters at work.   Markus and Zeke made their way through the crowded competition grounds. Their eyes scanned the various blacksmiths' workspaces. The moment they came across a forge that looked particularly outstanding, Markus' voice filled with awe as he exclaimed. "This must be the smithy of Jonathan Goldhammer. He was the winner of the competition last year and is one of the favorites to win this year as well. He is an incredibly talented Metal Mage and blacksmith. If the rumors are to be believed, then he actually learned his craft in the dwarven kingdom. It is said that he was apprenticed under one of their legendary smiths."   As Markus was about to explain more, a deep voice interrupted him, "T'is no rumor, laddy." The voice belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and a stern expression. The man was obviously Jonathan Goldhammer himself, and he seemed to have overheard Markus' comments.   "That old goat treated me like an apprentice with too little skill tae make an ingot until ma last day wa' thae damn dwarfs!" Jonathan Goldhammer grumbled, his voice filled with bitterness. "Bastards had nae respect for me doon thaire! The only thing Ah took wa' me as Ah left that blasted hellhole was ma teacher's last name. O' course, the old cuss would probably die of a stroke if he ever found oot Ah was usin' his name."   Markus and Zeke were surprised by the man's harsh words. They were listening attentively to his stories about his time in the dwarven kingdom. It was unexpected to hear such a bitter tone from the master smith. They exchanged a quick glance, unsure of how to respond to his outburst.   Jonathan, noticing their discomfort, let out a sigh and ran his hand through his thick beard. "Ah apologize lads, Ah shouldnae hae let ma emotions get the better of me like that," He said, his voice calmer now. "It's just, that time in ma life was difficult for me and Ah still hold a grudge against those dwarves. Don let that reflect on ma current work or the dwarves in general."   Markus and Zeke nodded in understanding, shifting the conversation to more lighthearted topics. While they talked, the two boys could witness the passion that Jonathan had for his craft. His every word was filled with energy. The man's care for detail was obvious and Zeke surmised that it stemmed from his deep love of his work. They began to understand how the man in front of them had become one of the best blacksmiths in the empire.   Markus mentioned that he was a Metal mage as well, but didn't have a high enough affinity to attend the academy. Jonathan's eyes filled with pity as he heard the boy's circumstances. The older man started to explain the struggles of being a metal mage in the empire.   "That's goin' tae be a real problem for ye doon th' line, laddy!" Jonathan Goldhammer declared, his dwarven accent still strong despite having spent years in the empire. "If ye want tae start usin' Metal Magic in craftin', ye need tae have th' proper spells. Thae spells are under strict guard of th' blacksmithin guild. They'll only share it wa' ye if ye're willin' tae sign whit is basically a lifelong slave contract."   Markus visibly deflated after hearing that. He had dreamed of becoming a master blacksmith, but now it seemed like that dream would never come true. He hung his head in disappointment, feeling as though all his hard work and dedication had been for nothing.   Jonathan could see the despair on Markus' face and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's no' all bad, laddy. There are other ways tae learn th' techniques ye need. Ye just have tae be willin' tae put in th' work an' find th' right people tae teach ye."   Zeke was curious and asked Jonathan if he had signed a contract with anyone. Jonathan visibly scoffed at the idea. "Nae, laddy, an' Ah ne'er will!" Jonathan Goldhammer scoffed, his accent thickening with each word. "Ah dinnae need thae inferiour smithin' techniques frae th' empire onyways an' th' cannae force me tae teach mine tae onybody. Th' dwarves put wan o' thair seals on me when thae taught me an' noo Ah cannae even think aboot teachin' th' spells tae onybody. That's how th' dwarven techniques hae stayed secret for ages."   Markus became even more depressed when he heard that, but Zeke got excited instead. He clapped Markus on the shoulder and told his friend not to worry about it too much. Both blacksmiths were giving him strange looks. They were evidently confused about where Zeke got this confidence from. The boy in question's only reply was a mysterious smile as he waved them off, not willing to share his plans.   Throughout the entire competition, Zeke stayed as close to Jonathan as he could. He was entranced as he watched every single movement of the master craftsman. Jonathan's posture remained relaxed as he forged an impressive-looking spear. He even had the leisure to explain the details of the crafting process to Zeke upon noticing the boy's interest. Markus, on the other hand, was going around looking at all the smiths' work. He tried to comprehend as much as possible. Even so, he still continued to return frequently, in order to observe Jonathan's work.   During the forging process, the blacksmith's hands moved with practiced ease. He was shaping and molding the metal as if it were putty in his hands. His muscles bulged and flexed with each hammer blow, and his breath came in a steady rhythm as he was focused on his craft. The surrounding crowd was entranced by the display. They were watching in awe as a spear slowly took shape under his skilled hands.   Zeke was particularly fascinated by the way Jonathan used his Metal Magic. From what Zeke could tell, the man did something to enhance the strength and durability of the spear. He had never seen anything like it before. This display alone made it clear why all the non-mage blacksmiths stood no chance against him. Markus, too, was fascinated by Jonathan's work. He listened intently to his explanations, making mental notes of every detail.   As Jonathan was nearly finished with the weapon, he started carving out small cavities in seemingly random spots. Zeke was confused, he was sure this last step would make the weapon worse. "What are you doing, Jonathan? Is this competition so easy for you that you have to sabotage yourself?" Zeke joked, trying to lighten the mood.   Jonathan chuckled in response, but his tone was serious as he explained. "Nay, laddy, thae sockets are for enchantments," Jonathan explained as he continued to carefully carve out small sections on the weapon. "Ye can put enchanted essence crystals intae thae sockets an' then engrave tham wa' a spell effect tae improve thae weapon. Ah, for example, am goin' tae put a [Sharpen Metal] enchantment just below thae tip o' thae spear. This will make thae spear penetrate a lot better an' stay sharp forever."   As Jonathan began to engrave a small affinity crystal, Zeke couldn't help but lean forward in interest. He had never seen spell engraving done before, and it was fascinating to watch the process unfold. Jonathan's hands moved with precision and skill as he carefully etched the spell into the crystal. His eyes solely focused on the task at hand.   Zeke watched in silence as Jonathan finished the engraving and placed the crystal into the prepared socket on the spear. With an audible click, the gem snapped into place. Satisfied, Jonathan picked up the spear and handed it to Zeke. "There ye go, laddy. Ye can take a look," he said, his voice thick with pride.   The boy couldn't take his eyes off the weapon in front of him. It was a spear, but not like any he had seen before. The craftsmanship was impeccable, every inch of the weapon seemed to have been made with the utmost care and precision. He couldn't help but admire the intricate scales that ran along the heft of the spear. They were so detailed and delicate, reminding Zeke of a living snake. Yet, they also seemed to serve a practical purpose, improving the grip on the weapon.   Upon closer inspection, Zeke noticed that the tip of the spear was unnaturally sharp, it almost seemed to glint in the light. He recognized that it was the effect of the spell Jonathan had enchanted the weapon with. There were two more sockets on the spear that could be used to add two more enchantments.   Zeke handed the weapon back to Jonathan, "Truly a masterpiece," he said with admiration. "I am certain you are going to win this year as well, Jonathan."   The smith took the weapon back with a smile and a wink. He then made his way over to the judges' stand, where the final results of the competition would be announced.   As the two boys waited for the judges to announce the winner, Zeke and Markus couldn't help but notice a sense of tension in the air. The other participants had all gathered around as well. Their eyes trained on the judges' table as they debated the merits of each entry.   Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Zeke, the judges called for silence. The head judge stepped forward, a scroll in his hand, and began to read out the winners. Zeke listened intently as the judges announced the third-place winner. It was a middle-aged man who had crafted a sword that was both elegant and deadly. The man looked pleased with his placement, and there were murmurs of approval from the crowd.   The judges then announced the second-place winner, and Zeke's heart sank as he heard Jonathan's name. He could see the disappointment etched on the smith's face as he walked up to receive his trophy. Zeke couldn't comprehend how Jonathan's masterpiece could have lost to someone else's work.   Finally, the judges announced the first-place winner, and Zeke's jaw dropped. The winner was a skinny man in an elegant suit, someone who looked more like a businessman than a blacksmith. As the man stepped forward to receive his trophy, the object of his creation was also revealed. It was a staff with three essence crystals embedded in its head.   The judges went on to demonstrate the staff's abilities. It was able to send fireballs at a distant target. The staff was not using any of the wielder's Mana to achieve this effect either. Zeke finally understood how the skinny man had won. The craftsmanship of the weapon might be subpar, but Zeke had long since learned that the nobles of the empire preferred long-range combat.   The skinny man in the elegant suit, whose name was apparently Kevin, stepped forward and bowed to the judges, accepting his trophy with a smile. Markus, however, was fuming with anger. He couldn't believe that this competition, which he had respected so much, had been won by someone who had clearly no talent as a blacksmith.   Markus stood tall on the stage, his eyes blazing with anger as he glared at the poorly crafted staff on display. "Is this a blacksmithing competition or an enchanting competition?" he shouted, his voice ringing out across the crowded arena. "My five-year-old sister could have crafted a better staff than this. Have you no shame?"   The crowd erupted with cries of discontentment, spurred on by Markus' words. Many voices joined in support of his statement. But then, a middle-aged man in a red robe took the stage, his powerful presence commanding the attention of the crowd. He raised his hand for silence, and the arena fell quiet as he addressed the audience.   "The Empire of Arkaneheim is a country that has expanded and prospered on the backs of its mages for centuries," the man began. "We are not a country of barbarians who rely on swords or spears to fight our battles, but on the might of our spells. So what weapon could be better than a magic staff to represent the winner of this competition?"   There were hushed whispers in the crowd as they considered the man's words. It was evident that they didn't agree with him, but they were too afraid to speak out against a man directly. His expensive clothing and arrogant demeanor made it clear that the man was from a noble family.   Zeke remained rooted to his spot without blinking, his eyes trained on the man who had just walked off. He had joined a group of fire mages that were half-hidden in an alcove a little ways off. He recognized Alexander among them, as well as the skinny man who had won the competition. The group was unquestionably a part of the powerful Feuerkranz family. Zeke couldn't help but scoff at their use of their status to bully others into silence.   Zeke was aware that there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. Even so, he burned this scene into his mind, promising himself that he would speak out in the future. As soon as he had the influence to change things in the empire he would not be content to remain silent any longer.   Maybe after he and Maximilian had published their research, he could bring the matter to the Emperor's attention. Zeke wanted to reveal to the leader of the empire how the Feuerkranz family was behaving.   Zeke placed a hand on Markus' shoulder, his expression serious. "It's time for us to leave," he said, his voice low. Markus just nodded, the boy was still fuming from the injustice of the competition.   Zeke didn't know what to say to him as they made their way out of the arena. He, too, was disappointed, but as they walked through the streets, something occurred to him that brought a smile to his face. In a couple of days, it would be Markus' birthday, and he had just obtained the best present imaginable. The thought of seeing the look on his friend's face when he revealed his gift made him feel a lot better.

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