Chapter 20: One-Horned Demon (3)

“What should I do?”

Blake was the guild leader who had led his team to the top. Yet he’d always been more of a skilled player than a strategist. He was great at following his advisors’ plans—or even surpassing them—but he rarely came up with those plans himself.

With a clear path laid out before him, he could accomplish a lot.

But when it came to dealing with people, it was a different story.

Sure, he had a presence that attracted others, and many admired his talent, but his past showed he wasn’t good at building those relationships.

Vargar looked at the young man, surprised that Blake had opened up so honestly. His initial shock faded into a warm smile.

“Your old wounds must still ache,” Vargar said. “You did well, Blake. Really well. I would have acted the same in your place. A week-long friendship can’t stand against something that might change your fate. Even close dwarven friends might betray each other for the piece you’ve obtained.”

“Then… there’s no problem?” Blake asked, still feeling uncertain.

The old dwarf stroked his beard. “Every life has its troubles. But you promised to visit my home. That’s more than I ever asked for. I trust your word is stronger than diamond.”

Though still unsure, Blake felt much better.

He had finally given something back to Vargar for all his help.

He would hold onto that promise and one day visit the dwarven kingdom as a skilled blacksmith, able to forge items the world had never seen.

As he thought more about it, he realized how much Vargar stood to gain.

The dwarf had placed his faith in Blake’s future, and if things went well, his kingdom would gain a strong ally—someone who could help connect dwarves and elves.

“Take your time with the fragment. I’ll look over the gatekeepers’ armor,” Vargar said.

“Alright.” Blake nodded and returned to the golden chamber.

There, he picked up the light fragment of the Lost King’s first crown and viewed its details:

[The First Piece Of The 12th Lost King’s Crown (Ancient)—When his kingdom fell, the 12th Lost King broke his crown into seven shards and scattered them, knowing his family’s forging tradition would end. Each shard holds flexible power and is needed to craft The Aegis. The titles—The Spiritual Blacksmith and The Limitless Enchanter—are required to forge the first piece into an item.]

[You have found one of the key parts of The Aegis.]

[You have received a new quest!]

[Forge The First Piece Of The 12th Lost King’s Crown into an item (Legendary)]

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

[Reward: Based on your performance]

Suddenly, the white stone heated up. In an instant, the black box around it melted into a hazy mist.

New system messages appeared before Blake’s eyes:

[The White Obsidian Furnace has heated up in response to your quest.]

[You now have temporary ownership of The White Obsidian Furnace.]

This strange, magical method of forging caught Blake off guard.

He hadn’t expected to use such a furnace yet, but he wouldn’t back down.

It seemed the quest wanted to test him right now, to see how far he could go.

As more details on The White Obsidian Furnace came to him, Blake removed his helmet and gently placed it on the white stone.

It didn’t melt. He could now control exactly what would melt on its surface.

The furnace offered such fine control that returning to a normal smithy would feel disappointing.

He set the crown shard near the demonic mask and whispered, “I’ll melt it into my helmet and shape it into a horn.”

He glanced at Sol, who perched nearby, enjoying the furnace’s warmth.

Behind him, Beatrix emerged from his shadow and watched the sealed doors. She stood ready to strike down anyone who dared to interfere.

With these two by his side, Blake smiled softly. “Don’t be surprised,” he said.

He gripped his hammer and swung it.

“BLAKE!”

Sol froze, his tiny eyes wide. Beatrix turned her head, likely just as shocked.

Their master’s forging rang out loudly, sounding more unusual than ever before.

–

A few hours later, the grand doors opened.

A small, glowing orb shone brighter as it drew closer. Soon, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows, the orb perched atop him.

Clad in black armor, Blake emerged. The room’s glow dimmed now that he had turned the piece into an item—the horn on his helmet.

Sol clung to it like a prized treasure.

Having finished checking the gatekeepers’ armor, Vargar greeted him and noticed the horn. It matched the demonic mask perfectly.

He smiled. “A fine spot for the first fragment. It’s lost its rainbow shine, so I guess it’s an item now, eh? What’s its name?”

Blake nodded. “Hubris.”

His gear now matched Beatrix’s armor as it obtained a new skill.

Hubris reflected his chosen name—Superbia, the sin of pride.

His katana and equipment embodied that pride. Unsheathing the blade meant fighting as he always had, savoring excitement he could never fully escape.

His armor, Pride’s Second Coming, hid his identity, allowing him to partake in the excitement of this world.

And Hubris?

It turned him into The Hollow King.