Chapter 127: The Carnival

*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Kingdom of Satar, Capital City Parthanon*

*Click. Click. Clack.*

Demir finally finished his new and improved armor set. Unlike the junk parts he had made in Safe Hollow, now he had the budget to get rare metal mixes. He had crafted a six-piece set with magical defense, each piece carefully forged and enchanted.

The Reinforced Steel Chest Piece sat on the anvil, gleaming. B grade, with a vitality rune attached giving ten percent vitality boost, plus a vitality stone adding five to his vitality stat. Fifteen percent physical damage reduction and additional stat bonuses made it his finest protective work yet, finished with a two percent general damage reduction enchantment.

The matching head piece, shoulder guards, leg pieces, and hand guards all bore similar enchantments. Each piece was B grade with five percent physical damage reduction, vitality bonuses, and the same defense enchantment.

But the true prize was the set bonus. When he wore all pieces together, trace amounts of mythril inside the reinforced steel gave him ten percent magic damage reduction as a passive skill.

The marketplace didn't have enough vitality stones for the whole set, but he had managed to get one bead enchantment on each piece. Making them all from the same material had granted him the passive skill.

But one thing remained to experiment with. He was still a little afraid to try, but he was also determined.

Marco leaned against the workbench, watching nervously. "Are you sure you want to test this on your precious sword?"

"I am." Demir took a breath. "Ready the beads, please."

He put his orichalcum sword on the anvil and started to enchant the damage bead to the blade. The white light flashed, then red, then yellow, then blue. His hammer swung true. Right after that, Marco handed him another heated bead.

Marven was eating her nails at the corner. Demir had never seen her this nervous.

"Marv, you're making me nervous too."

"I mean, I've never seen more than one enchantment on equipment. We could have gotten a higher-degree enchantment instead."

"Those are too expensive. Later, maybe, for better equipment." He watched the bead begin to glow. "This is a mini-game. What could go wrong?"

But the second enchantment turned out to be much harder. The flashes were happening too fast, and Demir was catching his charged swings at the last possible seconds. His arms burned. Sweat dripped into his eyes.

Finally, he thought he had it. The bead flashed another color.

"Oh, shit..." He had missed. Not expecting the final flash to come so soon, the bead puffed into air. Another gold, gone.

Marco sighed. "I guess enchanting another increases difficulty."

They tried again. This time Demir managed to catch all the new flashes, adjusting his timing. He managed to implement the second damage increase bead to his sword. Wolf's Vow now gleamed with doubled enchantment power.

"Okay, ready another one, Marco. I'll try the third."

But the third enchantment was beyond Demir's speed. The flashes came in bursts so fast they blurred together. Three beads shattered into nothing before they gave up.

"Four percent damage increase to Wolf's Vow is enough for now," Demir said, wiping his brow.

The trio packed their stuff and started their walk to the Tournament Coliseum. The below-fifty tournament and above-fifty tournament were going to happen at the same time, with the below-fifty matches arranged just before the real show, an official had explained.

---

When they arrived at the arena, it had already transformed into a giant carnival.

Street vendors lined every thoroughfare, selling food on sticks and entertainment of every kind. Jugglers tossed flaming torches. Musicians played competing melodies from different corners. Fortune tellers sat in silk-draped booths promising glimpses of glory to come. The smell of roasted meat and sweet pastries filled the air.

Most people crowded at the windows of nearby shops, checking out the latest crafts and weapons on display. Marco pulled Demir toward Quarnion's place to look.

The shop was crowded with customers, people pressing against each other to see Demir's work displayed in the front window. His swords caught the light, their enchantments making them glow faintly.

Marco's jaw tightened. "It's all your work. And that bastard tried to mug us, kidnap us, and didn't even pay our share."

"Come on, Marco. We can't dwell on that. Plus, Turbo will get our share."

Marven approached from a nearby stall, carrying three cones. "I really missed outside food. Finally, something resembling our ice cream!"

They each took one and licked eagerly.

They almost spit it out simultaneously.

"What the hell is this?" Demir coughed.

Marco made a face. "I think it's just butter."

"Noooo..." Marven's eye twitched. "I will kill them."

Turbo and Kirious were approaching from the distance, waving hands. Turbo's gang walked behind them, smiling and showing off their newly forged weapons.

Turbo struck a pose when he reached them, turning to show off his uniform. "Guess what we've been hired as." He gestured to his crew. "Security for the west gate. An honest business."

Kirious snorted. "A chance to steal prizes, you mean."

"Shut up. We decided to transition to security. Less pay, but at least our employer doesn't want us dead afterward."

"Only their enemies," Kirious muttered.

Turbo looked around at the crowd. "We'll be at the west gate for the duration of the tournament. I can't watch the games, but good luck from now on, Demir. You deserve to win." He let out a little laugh. "I mean, not physically. But for your good heart."

Kirious clapped his hands. "Okay, enough glaze. Go to your post." He turned to Demir. "Let's get you signed up."

---

When they reached the gates to sign up, two guards stopped them. "Only contestants from here on."

Demir said his goodbyes.

Kirious pressed forward. "Come on, the boss man loves me. Let me just enter as well." He produced two silver coins, but the guards pushed Kirious back to Marco's side.

Alef and Lysara were waving from upstairs, calling Marco and Marven to their booth.

When Demir entered the registration area, he saw a couple of players waiting to be processed. The area wasn't that big, a historical reenactment place with stone pillars and faded tapestries. But there was an out-of-place wall and a small window that clearly didn't belong to the original architecture.

Demir felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw his old customer, the baker Ouz.

"So you really came."

Demir smiled. "I said I would."

"Good luck, Demir. I hope we only meet at the final."

Demir looked around. "How do you think they determine if we're below fifty?"

Ouz shrugged. "That small window over there. They have something inside, and they put a cable to your temple. Then they know your level."

Demir nodded as if he understood, but he guessed they must have some device like Marco's glasses.

When Demir's turn came, he approached the window and bowed slightly. A voice from inside came, flat and bored. "Name and level?"

"Demir Strovan. Level twelve."

A black cable touched his temple from inside, but Demir couldn't see the operator through the darkened glass.

"Actually level twelve... and master smith, et cetera, et cetera. Okay, you can race in below fifty. Next!" The voice called out, and the cold cable was pulled from Demir's temple.

Demir walked two steps away, trying to understand. *They can see my level. My title. Everything.*

*I need that device*, he thought.