“Focus is power,” the Infernal Armory said, its voice coiling through the air behind Arwin’s head like a stray breeze. “Nothing is perfect. No creation can ever be capable of accomplishing everything. Limits are the outline of strength.”
Caldera fell, striking the suit of armor Arwin was working on with a resonating clang. The heat and force from the huge hamr drove into the tal plate, flattening and lding it to his will.
Even though Arwin couldn’t understand the tal as clearly as he could understand a Core, he could still feel its desires. He could tell when a strike brought it closer to what it wanted to be, and he could tell when he had missed the mark.
What Arwin was doing couldn’t truly be considered smithing anymore. He did not use the techniques of a smith. The only tools Arwin called upon were his own hands, Caldera, and the influence of tal he worked with.
He wasn’t even sure if this was Dwarven Smithing anymore. Much of what he did was certainly inspired from it. He had purged the impurities from the tal with lava and established a connection so that he could hear its song.
Wallace had said that Dwarven Smithing took many different routes, and each of them was unique to its smith. But what Arwin now did was closer to a conversation than a craft. Every echoing clang from Caldera’s strike asked a question. Every hoist of the hamr’s hilt gave the tal a chance to reply.
They spoke back and forth, shifting from song to thought to word in what should have been a jarring crash but sohow ended up as a lodious dance. And the more Arwin worked, the more right it felt.
He’d never felt nearly this connected with his materials. Even though he wasn’t trying to make anything incredible, he had already managed to make an entire set of armor from greaves to helm within just a few hours.
Arwin was now well into his way finishing a second set of armor, and he barely even felt tired. He actually felt refreshed. Even though he was spending energy, every single piece of equipnt he completed was like a sip of ice cold water on a sweltering sumr day.
I feel like I could do this forever.
That wasn’t true, of course. Creating magical equipnt always drew power. He was just finding more efficient ways to do it — and he was getting stronger in the process. Arwin had already harvested a decent amount of magical energy from the past few hours of work.
But he wasn’t concerned with power right now. The parts of his brain that weren’t occupied with his work were all focused entirely on the future.
“The key,” Arwin said between swings of Caldera, “is to choose the right limits for the power you want. I agree with your claim of focus being power. Stretching myself too thin will result in a piece of armor that does a lot of things well and nothing great. All-rounders are invariably brought down by soone who’s just really good at the one thing they do. That’s we make guilds in the first place. Nobody can be everything. But what thing should I focus on?”
“Defense,” the Infernal Armory said.
Arwin nearly stopped swinging Caldera. He was tempted to cross his arms in front of his chest and glare at the pillar of red mist, but he settled for sending a peeved glance over his shoulder at it.
“No shit. What, did you think I was going to make a suit of armor where each piece has Brittle, so it explodes the mont soone hits it and sends us both to hell?”
“That would be rather amusing.”
Arwin suppressed a laugh. He wasn’t about to give the Infernal Armory the satisfaction of that when they were supposed to be being serious. Getting himself a new set of powerful armor was a rapidly growing priority.
The sooner it was made, the sooner he’d be able to join up with the rest of the nagerie on their trips through the dungeons — and the sooner he’d be ready for the enemies they would inevitably be making with their growing fa from the Proving Grounds.
“You know what I an,” Arwin said. “I need sothing that lets stand right up there against adventurers whose classes are ant for war.”
“It seems you are already more than capable enough of war,” the Infernal Armory said.
Caldera fell once more. An echoing boom rolled through the Infernal Armory and Arwin lifted the hamr again, examining the surface of the armor he was working with for any imperfections.
“I’ve seen things on the battlefield that make my destructive abilities now look like toys.”
“Have you utilized the full power of your bonded weapon?”
Arwin hesitated at that. “No. Not yet. I have not had a choice. But Caldera will be my weapon now and forever more. It’s the armor that I’m more concerned with right now. Even with my titles making it hard to damage my body, I’m still not strong enough to shrug blows from powerful adventurers off. I need armor.”
“We have established that already.”
It seed the Infernal Armory was in a bit of a mood today. That or it was just having fun being sarcastic. Arwin couldn’t fault the building too much. It practically lived to create, and he’d been gone for several days leaving it to just sit around waiting for him.
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“Yes, yes. But if I knew the answer as to exactly what kind of armor I wanted to make, then I wouldn’t be sitting here and asking you about it, would I?”
“Most likely not,” the armory agreed. “But I am not entirely wasting my words for the sake of it. You know as well as I do that not all manners of armor suit every style. We could create sothing so dense that even a King ranked adventurer would struggle to shatter it — but you would be as mobile as a boulder on a flat adow. What style would suit you the best?”
Arwin got back to work on the chestpiece on the anvil before him as he pondered the Infernal Armory’s words. This wasn’t even a question of what he could make yet. That could be addressed once he knew what he wanted to make.
The question about fighting styles brought up an interesting idea. There was nothing saying he had to amble around the battlefield in a wall of armor and just hope his enemies stuck around long enough for him to reach them.
He had learned many fighting styles in his ti as the hero. Arwin could wield a quick blade just as well as a hamr. Caldera was a massive weapon, but there was absolutely nothing that said it had to be a slow weapon.
I can swing Caldera pretty damn fast when I use [Scourge]. There isn’t anything stopping from making light armor that focuses on speed over defense.
But that thought just felt… wrong. Arwin himself wasn’t particularly fast. He was far from slow, but even compared to Madiv or Reya, he was only of average speed. Quick attacks just didn’t appeal to him as much as flattening a flow with one large, nasty blow.
“I think I’d want sothing well suited for taking so damage while I’m striding through a large number of enemies,” Arwin said after another swing. “I don’t like the idea of focusing on dodging every single attack. It’s much more satisfying to just ignore everything that gets thrown my way.”
“An arrogant response,” the Infernal Armory observed. “Good. I like it. We will need a durable material, then. Sothing dense. No brittle components.”
“Agreed,” Arwin said. “Sothing with a focus on absorption of damage and conversion to so kind of resource that the armor can spend. I really liked the magic-absorbing properties of the Ivory Executioner armor. If we could get sothing that functioned automatically, that would be even better. I need sothing that does what we do.”
“You want to replace ?” a note of displeasure entered the armory’s voice.
“What? No!” Arwin hurriedly shook his head. “Sorry. I worded that badly. I just ant that smithing is a thousand tis easier when working with you. Everything is clearer. I have so much more power. My connection to materials is better as well. You’re invaluable. If I had sothing like that to fight with, I’d be unstoppable.”
“I see,” the invisible being said. It sounded placated, if only just. “Unfortunately, I am a building. Not a suit of armor. One as great as I could not be contained to such a agre thing. I am pleased to know you are aware of my value. Feed more.”
Arwin chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Say, what would you want in armor if it was for yourself rather than ?”
“I am a building. I cannot wear armor.”
“You’ve got that ghost-form thingy,” Arwin said. He set Caldera down as he brought the chestplate he’d just finished to his quenching barrel and plunged it in, letting the water hiss and snarl as heat slipped free of the tal. “But I digress. I ant if you were not a building and could hypothetically wear armor.”
“Then I would want to move,” the Infernal Armory said. “I am trapped here. My presence cannot leave the land I am built on. If I could create armor, then I would choose armor that let move.”
Arwin paused. Then he pulled the chestpiece from the water, ignoring the rush of energy that danced through his body at the successfully created magical item. He dismissed the words from the sh as they arose in the air before him and brought the piece over to join the rest of the armor he’d made for the set.
Armor that lets it move, huh? Now there’s a thought.
“I see,” Arwin said thoughtfully.
“Your voice has changed,” the armory absorbed. “Have you co up with an idea that you believe suitable? Or were you simply rembering that you possess legs and I do not?”
“You could say I had a bit of an idea,” Arwin said. He chewed his lower lip. “It might be a stretch, though. I don’t even know if sothing like this is possible… but I think I know how I might go about getting started finding out.”
“And what idea would that be?” the armory asked. “Do not taunt with the possibility of making a set of interesting armor and then not say what it is. Tell what you are thinking.”
A project like this might be beyond my current strength. I should theoretically have the abilities to do what I need, but I don’t think I have the mastery over them yet. It would definitely be biting off more than I can chew if I had to work alone.
But I don’t. That old drunkard, Koyu; he’s around here sowhere. He promised to work with — and it’s been too long since I last spoke with Wallace. Between the three of us, I think we might actually be able to pull this off.
“Armor that lets you move,” Arwin replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
“I do not understand.” The armory’s voice was confused.
“I want to make armor that lets you co with ,” Arwin said. “You were right. Why would I settle for making sothing like you when I could just bring the real thing? I want to bring the whole damn smithy with when I go to battle.”
There was a long pause as the Infernal Armory absorbed his words. Then the figure within the mist shifted. And even though they weren’t currently connected, Arwin could tell its gaze was boring into him.
“Take … with you?” the Armory asked. “You wish to turn my powers into a weapon?”
Arwin hesitated. “Ah, yeah. Is that rude? I don’t an to turn you into just a weapon. I know this is already kind of an extension of what the [Soul Guardian] ability does… but I want to make more than a vessel we can use to fight. I want to let you travel by . Fight by . Of course, I’d rather avoid fighting in general if the option was there. But it isn’t. I can’t protect anyone by asking nicely. If you don’t like the idea—”
“To drink power straight from the source of those who stand in our way. To forge their flesh like tal…” the Armory trailed off as it savored its words. Then the red smoke shifted. For a flicker of a second, Arwin could have sworn he saw a wide smile forming within it. “Yes. I like that very much.”
Goosebumps prickled against the back of Arwin’s neck. There had always been sothing eerie about the Infernal Armory. He didn’t think the entity was straight up evil, but it was certainly no saint.
If it ant protecting the people he cared about, Arwin didn’t care who or what the armory was. He wasn’t yet strong enough to choose the high road — so he’d settle for the road where they had the best chance of coming out alive.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder.
Just what am I planning to unleash on the world?
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