The dical staff rushed the arena floor the mont the match was officially called. They loaded the unconscious and mutated body of Jarek onto a heavily shielded stretcher and hurried him toward the restricted underground dical bays.
Glen did not wait for the dics to check on him. He turned his back on the VIP suite and walked toward the competitor tunnel. His hands were empty. The twin silver swords he had taken from the fallen A Rank Hunter were gone reduced to piles of rusted gray dust on the arena sand.
When he pushed through the glass doors of the competitor lounge the room was dead silent. Again.
Caleb Sterling was standing near the entrance his wooden staff gripped tightly in his hand. The Gravity Mage had lost his relaxed easygoing smile.
"Glen" Caleb said his voice low and serious. "What was that? That black energy. It felt like the air was dying."
Isla stepped up beside Caleb her green eyes scanning Glen from head to toe. She noticed the missing swords and the faint black residue staining his fingertips.
"It was an infection" Glen said keeping his voice casual as he walked past them toward the catering table. He grabbed a clean towel and began wiping the dark sludge from his hands. "The Valor Guild decided to play dirty. They pumped that kid full of so kind of illegal combat stimulant. It lted my swords."
Isla narrowed her eyes. She knew it was more than just a stimulant but this was not the place to interrogate him. There were too many ears listening.
"You are unard" Isla stated stating the obvious. "The third round starts tomorrow. You cannot fight the top sixteen rookies in the world with your bare hands Mcdonald. Not even with your physical stats."
"I am aware Sinclair" Glen sighed tossing the dirty towel into a bin. "But I am also broke. I put the entire three million credit payout from the Hobgoblin core into a secure trust for my mother’s dical bills. It covers her for the next five years but it leaves with exactly zero liquid cash. Unless you know a place that gives away high tier weapons for free I am going to have to start punching people."
Isla reached into her combat duster. She pulled out a heavy leather pouch and tossed it to Glen. He caught it feeling the dense warm weight of the object inside.
"The Colosseum has an elite rchant pavilion set up for the tournant" Isla said. "Let us go shopping."
Ten minutes later Glen Isla and Caleb were walking through the bustling rchant pavilion located on the upper concourse of the stadium. The area was packed with wealthy guild executives elite hunters and master alchemists selling their wares.
As they walked past the glittering stalls Glen reflected on the absolute absurdity of the world economy.
The entire global financial system was built on blood and glowing rocks. Monster cores were the ultimate currency. When Glen was a porter in Sector Nine he used to harvest E Rank sli cores. They were the size of marbles and sold for fifty credits each. Barely enough to buy a tube of synthetic nutrient paste. D Rank cores the size of golf balls sold for five thousand credits. That was enough to pay a month of rent in the slums.
But the price scaling was not linear. It was exponential just like the Hunter ranks themselves.
The gap between an F Rank and a D Rank was the difference between a normal human and a professional athlete. But the gap between a C Rank and a B Rank was massive. A B Rank Hunter could level a small building. An A Rank could destroy a city block. And an S Rank like Evander Buchanan was a walking natural disaster.
Because the power gap was so massive the price of the cores reflected that reality. A standard B Rank core was worth ten million credits.
"Welco to the forge" a gruff voice called out interrupting Glen’s thoughts.
They stopped in front of a massive stall displaying rows of beautifully crafted weapons. The rchant was an older man with a thick gray beard and a leather apron. He was a B Rank Blacksmith.
"I need a sword" Glen said placing his hands on the glass display case. "Sothing durable. Sothing that will not lt or shatter when I channel a massive amount of kinetic energy into it."
The blacksmith chuckled. "You are the Mimic kid right? I saw your match. You hit hard. You need a weapon forged with a high density core. I have a beautiful broadsword here forged with a standard B Rank wind core. It is light fast and sharp enough to cut through steel."
"How much?" Glen asked.
"Ten million credits" the blacksmith smiled.
Caleb whistled softly. "Ten million. You could buy a private island for that."
Glen sighed. Ten million for a standard B Rank weapon. If he wanted an A Rank weapon forged with an A Rank core the price would easily exceed fifty million credits. S Rank weapons were not even sold for money. They were priceless national assets traded only between governnts and the highest guild masters.
"I do not have ten million credits" Glen said flatly.
"Then you are in the wrong stall kid" the blacksmith grunted turning away.
"Wait" Isla said stepping forward. She pointed to the heavy leather pouch Glen was holding. "Show him."
Glen opened the pouch and pulled out the massive glowing yellow crystal. It was the B Rank boss core they had harvested from the Obsidian Chira in the Whispering Ruins. The mont the core hit the glass display case the ambient earth mana in the area spiked.
The blacksmith stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes went wide with pure unfiltered greed.
"A B Rank boss core" the blacksmith whispered leaning over the glass. "Pure earth affinity. Flawless density. This is a masterpiece of nature. Where did you get this?"
"We found it" Glen smiled his dark cocky smirk returning. "What is it worth to you?"
The blacksmith wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "A standard B Rank core is ten million. A boss core of this purity? I could forge a masterpiece with this. I will give you twenty five million credits right now."
"I do not want credits" Glen said tapping the glass. "I want a sword. The best sword you have in the back room. Sothing heavy. Sothing unbreakable."
The blacksmith hesitated looking at the glowing yellow core and then back at Glen. He nodded slowly. He reached under the counter and pulled out a long rectangular wooden box. He opened the lid.
Resting on a bed of black velvet was a single longsword. It was not flashy. It did not glow with elental light. The blade was forged from a pitch black tal that seed to absorb the light around it. It was thick heavy and brutally simple.
"I forged this five years ago" the blacksmith said his voice filled with reverence. "I used the core of an A Rank Ironclad Behemoth. The tal is so dense that most hunters cannot even lift it let alone swing it in combat. It has no elental affinity. It cannot shoot fire or ice. It is just pure unbreakable mass."
Glen reached into the box and gripped the hilt.
The mont he lifted the sword he felt the incredible weight. It was easily three tis heavier than his old silver swords. But with his Level 15 physical stats and the passive strength boost from his Abyssal Juggernaut Armor it felt perfect. It felt like a weapon ant for crushing armor and breaking bones.
"I will take it" Glen said swinging the black blade in a slow experintal arc. The air whistled as the heavy tal cut through it.
"The core is yours" Isla told the blacksmith pushing the yellow crystal across the glass.
As they walked away from the stall Caleb stared at the massive black sword resting on Glen’s shoulder. "That thing looks like it weighs a hundred pounds. Are you sure you can swing that fast enough to hit an A Class rookie?"
"I will manage" Glen smiled.
He fell a few steps behind Isla and Caleb. He wanted to test sothing. During the fight with Jarek the system had granted him a new passive trait after he devoured the demonic anti mana.
He opened his status window.
Passive Trait: Void Touch.
Description: The user can channel a microscopic fraction of The Lost into their physical strikes. Upon direct contact the user can accelerate the decay of inorganic matter.
Glen looked at a discarded piece of scrap tal lying near a trash bin. He focused his mind channeling a tiny spark of the dark energy he had consud. He reached out and tapped the scrap tal with his bare finger.
The tal hissed. A patch of gray rust instantly blood from the point of contact spreading across the surface and turning the solid iron into brittle dust in less than two seconds.
Glen pulled his hand back his dark eyes widening in realization.
He could not just steal skills anymore. He could destroy weapons. He could rot armor with a single touch. The demonic fragnt he had eaten had given him the exact sa terrifying power that had lted his silver swords.
He looked up toward the VIP suites where Elias Vance and the S Class Dragon Knight were watching the tournant.
"You wanted to see a monster" Glen whispered to himself a cold terrifying smile spreading across his face. "Just wait until tomorrow."
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