Chapter 172: Arsenal’s Fury
Chapter 172: Arsenal’s Fury
While Leon was busy forging weapons to earn money, a luxury car crossed the border into Delvan from a neighboring country.
Inside, a middle-aged man sat in the rear seat, quietly watching the scenery pass by through the window.
Across from him sat two men dressed in expensive business suits. One was focused on the laptop resting on his lap, his fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard. The other leaned back comfortably, calmly admiring the view outside.
After a while, the middle-aged man finally broke the silence. "Marcus, did everything go according to plan?"
"Yes, Mr. Donovan." Marcus nodded without looking up from his laptop. "Elena took the bait. The Golden Heart is as good as ours."
"Make sure she has no way out." The person with the surname Donovan said. His voice remained calm, yet it carried an unquestionable authority that filled the car.
"She won’t." Marcus smiled confidently. "I’ve already made arrangements to ensure that no weaponsmith in Delvan will help her. As for Karen..." A cold smile crept onto his face. "She’s as good as dead."
"How cruel of you, Marcus." The other young man in the business suit finally spoke, his eyes still fixed on the scenery outside.
"You promised her limitless wealth, yet now you’re talking about killing her. Didn’t you love her?"
Marcus let out an awkward laugh. "Young Master, you must be joking. Love? That’s nothing more than a distraction. Besides, getting close to her was part of the plan from the very beginning."
"True." The young man nodded with a faint smile. "Who would’ve thought she’d betray her own best friend for a relationship that started barely two months ago?"
"It wasn’t just love," Marcus replied. "Money played an even bigger role. Without the promise of wealth, a woman like her wouldn’t have spared me a second glance."
"Indeed." The young man continued. "For people like them, money is everything. If only Elena knew what she has with her..."
He paused for a brief moment. "That single herb is valuable enough to ignite a war between every clan in Summitas Valley."
"It’s a good thing she doesn’t," Marcus replied thoughtfully. "While the royal family is busy preparing to awaken the prince’s bloodline so he can become immune to fire, we have to secure that herb first."
He closed the laptop with a soft click.
"Only then can the Young Master refine the Solar Eclipse Pill. Once it’s consumed, you’ll gain complete immunity to fire for three hours. Entering the Red Horn’s nest will be as easy as taking a walk. No matter what, we must obtain the Blood Dantian Pill before the royal family does."
A heavy silence settled over the car as it continued speeding forward.
Meanwhile, back at Hunter’s Arsenal...
After Leon went upstairs, the first floor slowly filled with people until it was teeming with the crowd. At the center of the marketplace stood a large stage. Several metal slabs of different sizes had been placed upon it, while a massive crowd surrounded the platform. Excited discussions spread through the gathering like wildfire.
"Who do you think will become this month’s best weaponsmith?" one man asked.
"Do you even have to ask?" another replied with a snort. "Of course it’ll be Julius from Raging Claws. He’s held first place for the past two years. Raging Claws isn’t the most sought-after weapon shop in Delvan for nothing."
"That’s true," a third person chimed in, "but Ghost Blades has been giving them a tough fight these past three months. Their new weaponsmith, Sheila, is no ordinary person."
He looked toward the stage with anticipation.
"She only arrived in Delvan three months ago, yet she’s already pushing Julius to his limits. No one can say for sure who’s going to win today. What if she finally forges a weapon superior to Julius’s?"
Murmurs filled the air as excitement and anticipation spread through the crowd. Under countless watchful gazes, twenty people stepped onto the stage.
Standing in front of the platform was a man holding a microphone. An overwhelming aura radiated from his body. Even from a distance, anyone could tell he was an S-Class Hunter.
He raised the microphone and smiled.
"Alright, everyone. Just like every month, it’s time for the Arsenal’s Fury." His voice echoed across the first floor.
"Today’s results will show you which shop crafts the finest weapons... provided you can afford them." He chuckled. "If not, there are plenty of other shops to choose from."
From his words alone, it was obvious that weapon forging had become more than just a profession.
It was a competition.
A competition for prestige.
A competition for customers.
The better a weaponsmith’s craftsmanship, the greater their reputation would become, and the wealthiest Hunters would naturally flock to their shop.
The title of Delvan’s Best Weapon Smith was something every weaponsmith dreamed of claiming.
The twenty people standing on the stage were all among Delvan’s finest weaponsmiths, ready to showcase their craftsmanship before the gathering in hopes of attracting even more customers.
"Alright, everyone!" the S-Class Hunter announced. "To keep the competition fair, every participant will be judged using the same two weapons as always — a sword and a shield.
We’ll begin with the sword. Let’s see whose blade cuts the deepest and the cleanest!"
The moment his words fell, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers. The commotion was so loud that it finally caught Leon’s attention despite him being busy forging on the second floor. He paused for a moment and noticed that every other forging chamber had been emptied.
The girl beside him smiled helplessly as she glanced toward the source of the noise.
"Ah... It’s that time of the month."
"What do you mean?" Leon asked.
"You don’t know?" She looked at him in surprise. "It’s Arsenal’s Fury. A monthly competition where weaponsmiths showcase their craftsmanship."
She paused for a brief moment before continuing, "It’s held every month because no one wants to remain below someone else in the rankings for long. Of course..." She shrugged. "The rankings rarely change."
"Oh?" Leon’s eyes lit up. "A competition for weaponsmiths? How much is the prize money?"
"Prize money?" The girl blinked before laughing. "There isn’t any."
Leon frowned, his excitement dampening. "There isn’t?"
"Nope. The reward is reputation. The rankings themselves are worth more than money. The higher your rank, the more customers you’ll attract. And naturally, more customers mean more money."
’Yeah... maybe for them,’ Leon thought. ’But I’m not planning to become a full-time weaponsmith. I’m just here to make some quick cash. What’s the point of entering a competition that doesn’t even offer prize money?
What a buzzkill.’