chapter 73

Chapter 73: Setting the Stage

The hurried patter of footsteps echoed through Reyn's workshop as he darted back and forth, muttering under his breath. Liora sat perched on a stool, her chin resting on her hand, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Up the stairs, down the stairs, to the vault and back," she murmured, her tone teasing. "He's going to collapse at this rate."

Reyn barely registered her comment, his focus locked on the components in his hands. "It has to be perfect," he muttered, dashing past her. "The stabilizer crystals, the weapon cores—wait! Did I pack the energy regulator?!" Without waiting for an answer, he bolted toward the stairs again.

Liora shook her head, stifling a laugh. "Worse than a kid on festival day."

Curiosity eventually got the better of her. As Reyn made yet another frantic trip to the vault, she followed, her footsteps echoing softly on the stone steps. She hadn't spent much time in the lower levels of the workshop, and the sight that greeted her took her breath away.

The vault was immense, its walls lined with shelves crammed full of weapons, glowing crystals, and intricate blueprints. Her gaze was drawn to a corner where an assortment of handheld weapons sat paired with oddly shaped crystals. Some of the crystals pulsed faintly, as if alive, while others radiated a steady, muted glow.

"What is he even planning?" she murmured to herself.

By late afternoon, the rhythmic clatter of hooves outside broke the workshop's chaotic silence. Reyn, his arms laden with tools and components, greeted the arrivals with a wide grin.

"Perfect timing! Come in."

Kael stepped inside, stretching as he surveyed the organized chaos. "Busy as usual, I see," he remarked. His gaze shifted to Liora, who was leaning against the workbench. "And who's this?"

"This is Liora, my best friend," Reyn introduced. "Liora, meet Kael. He's been helping me with some... higher-level tasks."

Kael offered a warm grin. "So, you're Reyn's best friend? I've heard a lot about you."

Liora raised a brow. "All good things, I hope."

"Mostly," Kael said with a chuckle. "Though he did mention you're the reason he hasn't gone insane yet."

"That's because someone has to keep him grounded," she replied with a smirk.

"You don't look like a blacksmith," Liora noted, studying him.

Kael laughed. "I'm not. I hunt monsters—and occasionally destroy the things Reyn makes, so he can rebuild them even stronger."

Reyn rolled his eyes. "You mean you 'test' them to destruction." Turning to Alarcus, who had entered behind Kael, Reyn continued, "I'll need your help tonight. Setting up the trial field is going to take both of us if we want it ready by dawn."

Kael leaned casually against the wall. "And what about me?"

"You can go back to hunting or weapon testing," Reyn said with a sly grin. "I even made something to record your progress. Alarcus can handle the paperwork later since I know how much you love that part."

Kael laughed, shaking his head. "Testing it is. But I'm sticking around for the S-CRY-ed story tomorrow morning at Eleanor's Hearth. They started it today, and No way I'm missing that." He started toward the vault, pausing at the entrance. "I'll be working on the Hades section. Don't wait up."They started it today, and no way I'm missing that."

Liora blinked. "The what story?"

Kael turned, his expression animated. "The storyteller's debuting this new tale at the Hearth. It's supposed to be about these two rivals with insane powers. One's a brawler who smashes everything in his way, and the other uses a golem to slice through anything."

Reyn added with a grin, "It's a big deal. The storyteller is trying to turn it into a tradition, like some of the older legends."

Kael leaned closer to Liora conspiratorially. "You should come with me tomorrow. It's going to be wild."

Liora smirked. "Alright, I'm in. But it better live up to the hype."

The workshop fell silent as night blanketed the city. Cloaked in garments that shimmered faintly with enchantments, Reyn and Alarcus moved with purpose, their spatial bags bulging with equipment.

"Keep it steady," Reyn whispered as they navigated the streets toward the square between the knight and mage academies.

"Are you sure this is the best spot?" Alarcus murmured.

"Absolutely," Reyn replied without hesitation. "It's central, accessible, and symbolic. This trial isn't just about strength—it's about equality. Noble or commoner, anyone can prove themselves here."

Alarcus nodded, the weight of Reyn's words not lost on him.

They worked in near silence, their movements precise and practiced. Reyn carefully arranged tools and components, while Alarcus connected the trial weapons to their corresponding crystals. The crystals hummed softly, casting eerie patterns across the cobblestones.

Hours passed as they labored tirelessly, activating safeguards and double-checking every detail. By the time the first rays of dawn pierced the horizon, the square had been transformed into a stunning trial ground.

Alarcus stepped back to admire their work, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's impressive. You've outdone yourself."

Reyn wiped sweat from his brow, his grin equal parts exhaustion and pride. "Let's hope the world thinks so too."

As the city stirred to life, the two vanished into the morning mist, leaving behind a challenge for anyone brave enough to take it on.

The morning sun bathed the city square in soft light as the trial grounds came into view for the first time. Five pedestals stood far apart in a wide circle, each marked with a distinct elemental symbol: fire, lightning, wind, ice, and earth. The pedestals were made of polished blackstone. Crimson dragons curled around the base of the fire pedestal, while jagged lightning bolts danced along the lightning one, etched in gold.

Atop each pedestal sat a uniquely shaped crystal, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.

A beautifully crafted sign stood at the center of the trial ground, its golden script catching the morning light:

"This is the Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales' Trial Ground. These trials are for the worthy to test their capabilities and character. Each trial requires two participants, but only one will receive the divine artifact crafted by the blacksmith. Do you have what it takes to claim your legend?"

At first, the square was empty, save for the quiet hum of magic that radiated from the pedestals. Then, the sound of boots on cobblestone echoed through the stillness as a pair of city guards on patrol approached, their curiosity piqued.

"What in the world is this?" one guard muttered, running a hand over the carvings on the fire pedestal.

"Some kind of prank?" another suggested, though his wary glance at the glowing crystals betrayed his doubt.

"Does this look like a prank to you?" the first guard snapped, pointing to the elegant craftsmanship.

Before they could investigate further, the distant sound of chatter and laughter signaled the arrival of students from the nearby knight and mage academies. Drawn by the strange sight in the square, they approached in groups, their excitement mounting as they read the sign and marveled at the pedestals.

"Did the Duke commission this?" a mage instructor asked aloud, his voice tinged with awe.

"No way," another replied. "This is... something else. Look at the detail on those carvings!"

Reyn and Alarcus stood at the edge of the crowd, blending in as much as possible. Reyn's hands were in his pockets, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. Alarcus leaned in close. "Looks like you've got their attention," he murmured.

Two mage students, curious and emboldened by the murmuring crowd, stepped toward the pedestal marked with a flame. Their movements were cautious at first, but as they neared, an invisible tension filled the air.

Suddenly, the crystal atop the pedestal pulsed, and the faint hum of magic became a deafening roar. A large, fiery-red magic circle flared into existence above the pedestal, runes glowing with an intense heat. Gasps erupted from the crowd as the circle grew brighter.

"What's happening?!" one of the students yelled, shielding his eyes.

From the circle descended a towering, mechanical figure cloaked in roaring flames. It was Brynhildr, the summon wielded by Sazh in the legendary tales of Final Fantasy XIII. The fiery summon moved with mechanical precision, its crimson armor gleaming like molten steel.

The crowd recoiled instinctively as Brynhildr landed with a ground-shaking thud.

"Is it alive?" someone whispered, their voice trembling.

"More like... it's waiting for something," another replied, eyes fixed on the massive summon.

One of the braver guards stepped closer but quickly backed away when Brynhildr turned its fiery gaze toward him. "That thing could flatten us in a second," he muttered.

Brynhildr's glowing eyes locked onto the two mage students. Without warning, it launched into action, its bladed arms sweeping toward them with calculated precision. The students barely managed to cast defensive spells in time, their barriers crackling against the heat of her attacks.

The fight was relentless. Brynhildr's movements were a blend of grace and ferocity, its strikes designed to test their coordination and endurance rather than outright harm them. Occasionally, it paused to cast a glowing aura over the students, mending their injuries before continuing its assault.

The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and murmurs. Some were impressed by the challenge, while others were intimidated by the prospect of facing such a powerful opponent.

"Did you see that? It healed them!"

"Did you see how it healed them after every attack?" another pointed out. "It's not just a summon; it's a judge."

"I want to try, but class starts in an hour..."

The students and teachers alike couldn't tear their eyes away from the battle. Even those who had initially planned to observe from the sidelines found themselves inching closer, drawn by the spectacle.

Despite their best efforts, the students' magic couldn't match Brynhildr's overwhelming power. Their spells fizzled against its flames, and their stamina began to wane. After several grueling minutes, one of them collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

Brynhildr stopped abruptly. It gazed at the fallen students for a moment, as though assessing their worth. Then, with a flash of light, she turned back toward the pedestal. Her fiery form dissolved into embers, the magic circle disappearing with her. The flame-shaped crystal atop the pedestal dimmed, returning to its original soft glow

The crowd erupted into murmurs.

"They failed," someone muttered.

"Did you see how it fought? It was like it was holding back."

"I'll come back after class," one knight student declared.

"Me too! I want to try the wind pedestal."

"Do you think we'll get in trouble if we're late for lessons?"

By midday, word of the mysterious trial grounds had spread like wildfire through Greyhold. What began as hushed murmurs among city guards and students soon became the talk of the streets, markets, and taverns. Everyone, from merchants to adventurers, had heard of the five pedestals that had appeared overnight and the strange, fiery guardian that had tested two mage students.

Excitement filled the air as people speculated about the origins of the trial grounds and the identity of the elusive Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales. Some marveled at the craftsmanship of the pedestals and crystals, while others were captivated by the promise of a challenge.

Even the Duke, Roland Storme, caught wind of the event during a council meeting. He leaned back in his chair, a small frown crossing his face.

"It's sooner than I expected," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Smith certainly works quickly."

One of his advisors, a burly man with a salt-and-pepper beard, raised an eyebrow. "You knew about this, Your Grace?"

The Duke nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

As the day wore on, the square between the knight and mage academies transformed into a makeshift arena. Spectators began to arrive with chairs, blankets, and even small carts laden with food and drink. Vendors seized the opportunity, setting up stalls to sell roasted meats, fresh bread, and spiced cider.

Families gathered, children tugging at their parents' sleeves and pointing at the towering pedestals. Groups of adventurers, armed and armored, debated which trial they would attempt first.

"I'm telling you," one burly adventurer said, slapping his companion on the back, "the earth pedestal's got my name on it. I'll smash through whatever it throws at me."

"Good luck with that," a mage retorted, smirking. "Did you see what happened to those two students? If the fire trial is that intense, I can't imagine what the others are like."

Despite the growing crowd, a sense of order prevailed, with city guards stationed nearby to maintain peace. Many onlookers treated the trials as entertainment, content to watch others attempt the challenges rather than risk themselves.

By evening, the trial grounds had become a hub of activity. Groups of spectators cheered and groaned as challengers stepped forward, some succeeding in activating the crystals while others failed to meet the requirements.

A noblewoman with her children whispered excitedly about the craftsmanship of the pedestals, while a young blacksmith apprentice sketched the intricate carvings, hoping to learn from them.

The Duke, watching from a distance with his guards, noted the energy of the crowd. "He's not just testing individuals," he said quietly. "He's testing the spirit of the city itself."