Advent of Dragonfire [A LitRPG Adventure]

Chapter 228 - Artificial Arena


The sound is the first thing that pulls at my attention. The recognizability of it is difficult to ignore.

Clink! Followed by a roar of cheers.

I realize as soon as I step into the room that the dance floor and the strobing lights cut off by the heavy door behind me only constitute a fraction of the building's massive interior. The sound of metal colliding with meat pulls me closer to where Jasper walks ahead toward a domed cage of iron in the middle of the huge room. People crowd around the cage, staring down, bright white light illuminating their faces, casting them in the visage of cheering devils. Dovik vanishes from my side, reappearing at the edge of the cage and spooking some of those near him. He takes one glance down before looking back up at me, a strange smile on his lips.

The sound grows louder as I near, a beastial snarl screeching up from inside the dome. Then, I see it, and the sight steals my breath.

The domed cage covers a pit, the circular walls descending twenty feet to stop at a bed of sand. The walls of the pit glow with a light whiter than the sun, a light that sucks away all color from the inside of the pit and casts harsh shadows across it. Two combatants face each other inside. One is a lizard monster as big as a horse, washed entirely pale by the harsh light beaming off the walls. Two of its six legs drag behind it as it circles close to the walls, sneering at the thing standing almost unmoving in the center of the pit. For a moment, I think the black trailing behind it is its shadow, only to realize that it is leaking blood from a myriad of cuts in its side. The blood falls to the sand, leaving black stains upon the grain. There are many such patches on the sand, all from that monster. They have to be, since its opponent cannot bleed.

In the middle of the pit stands what at first glance appears to be a dwarven man. The man is covered in enchanted armor, all powerful enough to distort the air with the fluctuations of mana running through it. Peering through the haze of magic, tasting a banquet of different energies on my tongue, I just can barely make out the face inside of the open-faced helm, or, rather, the lack of a face. Inside the heavy helm covered in glittering jewels that shine like diamonds in the harsh light, the face of the being is entirely smooth, stripped of all features. When it moves, its plated foot pushing aside the sand, it walks in a stilted manner. It raises its fists as it approaches the monster. Two long and scything blades curve from the heavy vambraces it wears, the left one still dripping black blood. As it approaches, the monster snapping at it, I finally realize what I am seeing. That thing is a golem, a golem wearing tens of thousands of gold worth of enchanted armor, standing in a fighting pit against a rank two monster. It doesn't appear to be losing.

The lizard monster hisses again, lashing out with a claw as the golem approaches. There comes a clang as the claws rake over the golem, knocking it back and to the ground, but the monster trades blow for blow. Before the golem is knocked out of reach, its arm whips forward far faster than its poddering gait would indicate; the blade on its arm cuts a deep wound in the monster's leg. As it stands once more, a shallow cut runs through the chestplate of the golem, and I notice several such scrapes across it. The monster limps back, now three of its legs too damaged to put its full weight on, hissing all the while.

"This is what I wanted to show you," Jasper says next to me, pointing down at the sand where the golem picks itself back up and starts to lope forward again. "You said you wanted to be an enchanter focusing on equipment."

"I did." I can't take my eyes off the fight below.

"Well, this is how we show off our enchantments," Jasper says. "This is how we advertise our wares."

My eye tells me that the monster below is just over the threshold of the second rank; it is no simple thing to kill. Its strength is prodigious, and it looks like it can be quick when all of its limbs are working. Yet, for all of that, it doesn't appear to stand a chance against the golem as it continues to walk forward and swing its enchanted blades inexpertly. Soon, the hissing turns to yowling, and the yowling to whimpering. As the monster grows more pathetic, the golem presses its advantage more and more.

I have no sympathy for it. Were it free, it would tear a hole through the city in a dash to slaughter as many people as it can. It is a monster. It deserves death.

It doesn't take much longer for the golem to finish off the creature. When it can no longer stand, the golem proceeds to stab it in the side, over and over. Whatever matrix of enchantment that motivates the humanoid construct seems to lack any understanding of vital points; it just stabs away until the lizard stops moving. Even then, it doesn't really stop. When it is clear that things have come to an end, a section of the wall below opens up, a dwarven woman running out and waving a wand. The golem stills, falling to the side and splashing into the sand. Three other people run out of the hole in the wall, two working to drag the golem away while two stand in the middle of the sand, soaking up the cheers from the crowd above.

"You said we," I say back to him. Jasper is wearing a smirk when I turn to look at him.

"That I did. Do you want to meet my team?"

"I very much do."

Before I can even turn to follow Jasper, several dog-headed individuals exit from a new hole that opens in the walls of the pit. They tower over the dwarves and use harsh tones and polite words to clear the pit. When at last the golem has been dragged away, one of the dog-headed women grabs the slain monster by its tail and begins to drag it behind her back through the hole they entered from. Another golem comes marching into the pit before the cleanup is even fully done, this one wearing a complex mesh of leather armor that looks to be made more of buckles and belts than anything else. It holds a crossbow in one metallic hand, the loaded bolt sizzling with barely restrained magic. As soon as the dog-headed crew is gone from the pit, the wall closing behind them, another section of the wall opens to release a monster that looks like a cat had an affair with a blade-armed monkey. The screeching is horrendous, made only worse as the monster leaps on the golem and starts pummeling it.

I see Jasper a few steps away when I turn, looking back at me and nodding for me to follow. We leave Dovik at the cage's edge. The man is smiling so manically down at the brutality below that I think he might jump in. I would pray that he doesn't, but I am running low on friendly deities. Maybe I should learn more about this Faethian goddess.

Faces float past me as I follow Jasper, all staring beyond me, faces lit by the unnatural light inside the pit, looks of glee painted on their faces. They cheer for every hit, whether it be monster or construct that lands the blow. A part of me, an old part that grew up on a farm and went to the chapel at least twice a week, wants to judge them for their blatant enjoyment of the brutality. I can't help but scoff at myself and throw away the hypocritical thought as soon as it springs. This doesn't really compare to my recent hunting trips in terms of brutality. If they bring out a beast with a high enough fire affix, I might give everyone a real show.

Another doorway leads out of the back of the room, opening to a long strip of open space three times narrower than the arena we just left. People scurry with the nervous speed of performers waiting to head to the stage, moving between square bays set apart from each other. Each bay holds inside it more enchanting equipment than I own, and there are no idle hands about. Most of the people inside each of these bays stand around a golem, a construct of metal in the vague shape of a man. Some work on affixing enchanted equipment to the golems, while others work at taking it off. Some even work on the golem directly, their hands reaching inside to fiddle with the interiors.

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Jasper leads me past three bays on the way to our obvious destination. I see the two standing in the bay long before we get there. It isn't difficult, given that they are standing and waving for Jasper to hurry up.

"This is where we are working this week," Jasper tells me as we approach the bay. "I'm certain that you will like what you find." He stops just before the bay, holding out his hand. "Miss Devardem, this is…"

Before he can continue, a stonespeaker woman steps out of the bay and brings her face so close to him that for a moment I think they might kiss. Jasper freezes, staring down at her as she sniffs him. "I knew it," she growls, thrusting a finger in his face.

"Please, don't do that," Jasper tries, slowly pushing her finger away.

She points in his face with her other hand, this time bopping him in the nose with her pointer finger. "You were drinking," she growls. "I told you that if I caught you drinking before a match again, I would be piloting." Behind the woman, a dwarven man chuckles, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

Jasper pushes her hand away again, leaving him holding both her wrists. "It was just one drink."

"Oh," she remarks. "I don't recall an exception for just one drink. I'm sorry. I must have misheard you."

Jasper sighs, letting her arms go and stepping away. The woman doesn't waste a second in pointing in his face again. He ignores her, turning to look at me. "Miss Devardem, this is my sister, Gaz."

Now that he says it, I can see the clear resemblance between the two. While they both have the same slate underlay to their skin, Jasper has black whorls running through his, while his sister has a pattern that looks more like sandstone. In a way, the woman, whom I now can see is clearly a few years younger than Jasper, reminds me of Bali. I should have spent more time with her in Danfalla, should have spent more time with a lot of people.

I couldn't have stayed there, not in that city.

"You can call me Charlene," I say, offering the woman my hand. Her eyes flick between my hand and my face for a moment before she shakes it.

Her expression morphs entirely, the exasperation vanishing to be replaced by good cheer. "So, you are the one that he keeps going on about, one of those fancy ladies he met during his vacation abroad."

I snort a laugh. "I'm not fancy at all," I tell her.

"Ah, well, if you didn't grow up elbow deep in greas,e you are pretty fancy by local standards," Gaz says. "Thought you would have been a firespeaker from the way he went on about your hair."

"And this," Jasper says, cutting in and motioning to the dwarven man watching this play out with unmasked amusement, "is Tatus."

"Tatus Algareed," the man says, giving me a slight bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Devardem."

"Tatus is our chief designer," Jasper says, motioning to the man and then behind him to the golem standing still in the center of the bay. The construct is a machination of what appears to be steel and some synthetic material that has a red and glossy sheen. Its height is somewhere between that of a man and a dwarf, and it currently stands naked other than a pair of shining, almost-golden greaves. "If you want to learn about armor crafting, he would be the one to listen to."

"You interested in armor crafting, Miss Devardem?" Tatus asks.

"Yes, certainly I am," I say. A quick scan of the rest of the bay shows other pieces of enchanted armor lying on workbenches or stuffed in heavy, canvas bags. A golden breastplate lies on the nearest bench, the sheath of its top layer removed to expose the intricate enchantment array beneath the surface.

"Miss Devardem is planning to enter the academy when enrollment opens," Jasper says.

The dwarven man's eyes get a bit big at that. "Not cheap. Not cheap. The better you do at your initial evaluation, the cheaper it gets," he says. "If there is anything I wish I knew before going in myself, it would be that."

"I've been trying to figure out the best way to pass the enrollment for the last few weeks," I admit. "Mostly, I have been focusing on the piece I will show the judges. From what I have been led to understand, that will be a big part of my initial assessment."

"Surely it is," Jasper says.

"Most definitely," Tatus agrees. "The judges make their assessments based on a few primary factors: complexity, usability, understanding of…"

"I am so sorry," Gaz says, cutting off the man. She looks at me, biting her lip for a moment before steeling her resolve. "We are going to be called out soon, and we have not yet finished assembling our golem. If we don't do well tonight, that could really hurt us. It is a sincere pleasure to meet you. Jasper has spoken so much about you already, but "the woman sets a hand on my shoulder, "I'm going to have to ask…" Her face changes, looking down at her hand while she squeezes my arm. "Oh wow. What are you made of?"

"Gaz!" Jasper cries, slapping his sister's arm off me. I can't help but be amused by the brother and sister. "That is quite rude."

"No," I say. "I understand. You need to work. From what I saw, the monsters they capture for this little arena are not simple threats. If you don't mind, I would like to watch how you go about putting this together."

"Of course," Jasper says, answering before his sister can. By the look on her face, she was not going to give the same answer.

"I'm piloting tonight," Gaz says, turning and pulling a want out of a canvas bag. Without another word, she rushes to the golem, pulling open a panel in the chest of the construct, before beginning to work on the innards.

Jasper offers me an apologetic glance before he too gets to work. The three step into place alongside one another, working faster than I would have thought possible to assemble the suit of armor around the golem. Gaz works like a madwoman with the internal enchantments of the construct, her fingers a blur of precision as she manipulates the inner arrays that allow the artificial creature to function. As someone who has only ever read about constructs like golems before, watching one be worked on like this is more of a treat than I thought it would be.

All along the room of open bays, teams of enchanters exit with their equip constructs one by one, leading them out toward the arena. A half hour passes in a blur, and soon it is Jasper's team that is next up. The final thing they do is hand the golem its weapon for the upcoming bout, a staff made of corded copper wire wrapped in silver bands. I wish them the best of luck before returning to the arena proper.

Dovik is almost exactly where I left him, three empty drinks on the rim of the arena's wall in front of him while he holds a half-empty fourth.

"Took you a while," he says, sipping on his drink. "I didn't take that skinny guy for having that much stamina."

I punch his arm, hard enough to make him wince. "Asshole."

He shrugs. "You've called me worse," he says.

"No, I haven't," I tell him. "I am a perfect young lady, I will have you know. Not one prone to violence or profanity."

Dovik arches a brow at that. "Didn't you just call some guy a prick and then pat him on the head like he was a dog?"

"I didn't pat him on the head."

"That's not how I am choosing to remember it." He points down at the sand pit in front of us with the same hand he holds his drink with. "This has been a rather interesting display. I would think more of the metal machines would win, but apparently, they mostly lose."

"Not this next one," I tell him.

"Oh? You know something I don't?"

"Many things."

"Like how to water trees and church songs?"

"Are you drunk already?" I ask, looking at him.

He laughs. "Maybe. I don't have the same curse you do." He taps his chin while I roll my eyes and look back down at the arena. "How confident are you? This is Jasper's little metal man we are talking about?"

I nod. Across the arena, the wall begins to open, and a golem decked in golden armor begins to march out onto the sand, the sheen of its metallic equipment turning a pale white as it enters the light. "They put something good together."

"You know, I trust you." Dovik begins to wave a man over, handing him a fistful of coins to make his bet on the upcoming fight.

I don't take my eyes off the sand pit and the little golem down below. My understanding of enchantment is still that of a novice–at best–but if what I saw in those minutes as Jasper's team worked to put their creation together is proof of anything, then this will be an interesting match.

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