Rise of the Living Forge

Chapter 356: Fantastic

The stands were awash with thunderous applause. People cheered and roared in approval as the melee battles continued. The tournament was already onto the third round. As fun and chaotic as the mass battles were, they didn’t tend to last very long. That made each one all the more entertaining.

And with all that excitement, there was opportunity. Nobody wanted to just sit around and watch a good fight without something to put in their mouth. That would be like trying to forge a blade without ever quenching the metal.

Food and a good show walked hand in hand. Of course, there was more than food that went well with a show. There were always people that were interested in something a little more… exciting.

And when there were people like that, there was someone to provide it.

“Hot dragon meat logs!” an old woman croaked, hobbling down the paths between the stands, leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden staff for balance as she fought desperately to keep the over-stuffed wicker basket on her back from dragging her to the ground. “Burnt cheese crisps! Pickles! Potions that will permanently and irrevocably alter your view of the world and make all the flashy bits of the fights look a hundred times flashier! All just for a small price!”

“How much?” A portly man asked, eyeing the old woman. “And is the dragon meat log…”

“Not a real dragon,” the old woman said. “Unless you want it to be.”

“I was actually more wondering if it’s a log made of meat that came from the body of a dragon, or… well… you know? Dragon meat?”

The old woman stared at him.

He coughed into his fist, then fished out a gold coin. “Here. Dragon meat log, please.”

“One meat log, coming right up,” the old woman proclaimed. She bucked the wicker basket on her back, somehow managing to launch free a rather tasty-looking slab of meat packed between two slices of soft bread. She caught it, then held it out to the man, swiping the coin from his palm a moment later.

The man licked his lips, already having forgotten the vendor. Nobody ever paid attention to them after they’d gotten what they wanted. They were just another piece of furniture.

And so the old woman was off, a smile pulling at the corners of her weathered lips as she slipped through the crowd. Today was going quite well. If the woman was honest with herself, she truly didn’t need the coin that much.

There weren’t all that many things left in life that she wanted to buy — but there was something a little too fun about charging idiot nobles that had no clue what their coin actually bought ludicrous prices for their food.

She’d already made enough money today to retire a small family for several years. The food flew from her basket like it was possessed — and there seemed to be no limit to either her sources or the number of people willing to buy from her.

The stands were huge, after all… and it wasn’t like anyone could run away from her marketing. Their size also helped hide the fact that the old woman was most certainly not one of the salespeople hired by the Secret Eye.

In fact, they didn’t even know she was there.

The old woman found a considerable amount of amusement in that.

Nobody ever paid attention to the service workers.

I do wonder why nobody’s bought any potions yet, though. Quite the bummer. I spent so much time brewing them for this specific occasion. I used to love getting blasted out of my mind on distilled newt poison. This younger generation is lame.

The old woman continued through the crowd, hawking her food and making a fortune that would probably cause just about anyone who wasn’t an adventurer to weep tears of envy. She had absolutely no plans of stopping. This was just too fun.

I should have gotten into the business far earlier. Scamming nobles is delightful. They’re like plump partridges. I just want to eat them — no. No. No eating. Just selling food. Control yourself, now.

The old woman’s eyes drifted through the crowd. It was a sea of expensive silks. Weapons and armor that cost as much as a mansion. The collective gathered in the stands was staggering.

And then she blinked.

Within that ocean of gold waiting to deliver itself to her was a woman wearing a hand spun cloth dress. Immense amounts of effort had clearly gone into its creation, but by a seamstress who was nowhere near up to the standards of the ones that had made the garments worn by the rest of the crowd.

And, more than that, this one seemed old. As if it had not been used for quite some time; as if it had been dug up from deep within a closet for a special occasion.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

The woman wearing the dress sat near the edge of the stands, her view partially hidden behind a pillar. Every other seat next to the woman was empty. After all, nobody wanted to pay this much money for a terrible view.

Some of them weren’t even that bad — but the woman sat right in the middle, possibly in the worst seat, nonetheless. She was leaned to the side, squinting down at the melee with a strange mixture of concern, excitement, and nervousness in her features.

How odd.

The old woman rather liked odd things. And thus, she found herself standing behind the rather odd woman just a few moments later.

“Can I interest you in a bite?” the old woman asked. “I’ve got quite the number of—”

“Oh, no. It’s quite okay,” the woman replied with a hearty, kind voice. “I’m just here to watch. My son is in the tournament, you see!”

“You couldn’t possibly watch a fight without a good meal,” the old woman said. “Perhaps a discount—”

“I’m afraid I didn’t bring any coin with me. The seat was rather expensive, and I couldn’t possibly allocate any more for mere food. I’ve brought a bit of my own packed lunch to last me through the tournament. Thank you, though.”

Well that’s no fun at all.

“Perhaps I could interest you in something else, then. I have a number of potions. Wouldn’t you like to know how your son is going to do?”

The other woman paused. “What? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The Secret Eye have some of the greatest mages in the Kingdom of Lian. I am no exception to that standard. Would you like a glimpse into the future? I could tell you how your son will perform in his battle.”

“Is such a thing possible? What’s the point of the tournament if it can be done?”

“A future that never happened is no future. This only gives a slight inkling of what will happen.”

And if I’m being honest, the potion really just gives a vague indication of their general life force. If her son does well, it’ll end up growing stronger because he’ll be happy. It’s a parlor trick more than anything. It’s not seeing the future. It’s just reading probabilities… but mortals understand so little about magic that they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

The woman fidgeted in her seat. “Oh. I’m a bit of a wreck right now. I’m so concerned for him. He’s worked so hard for this. My nerves could use a bit of relief. How much is that potion? I’m afraid I don’t have much…”

“It’s on discount!”

This potion normally goes for well over a thousand gold. Idiot mortals are always so obsessed about the future that they’ll trade away almost anything to get a look at it, even if that look is nothing but pseudo-truths. It’s wrong just as often as it isn’t, but they’ll convince themselves they just interpreted it wrong.

“Truly? That’s fantastic! I’ve got five silver. It’s all I was able to allocate for this trip. Is that enough?”

The old woman’s eye twitched. She was quite certain the woman before her was telling the truth. There would have been a time where she suggested an… alternative method of pay, but she’d been scolded more than sufficiently with regard to that.

I just want to see someone buy one of my potions. I’m starting to fear that I’ve become impotent. Selling it to this woman is like wasting the crown of a king on a rat… but I’ve never much liked kings.

“What a coincidence,” she said. “This potion is only 1 silver.”

“One silver? That’s far too little. Would you be so kind as to share your name with me? A silver surely can’t cover the ingredients that went into your work.”

The old woman blinked. A wave of confusion washed over her.

Why is she asking for my name? Nobody cares about a vendor’s name.

But a response was needed. She was so confused that she didn’t even try to lie.

“Esmerelda,” the old woman said. “And I have a special technique. The ingredients I use are actually all incredibly cost effective. There is no cause to be concerned. A single silver is more than sufficient.”

“How lovely,” the other woman said with a delighted smile. She fished a silver coin out of a rather sad looking purse and held it out. “In that case, I can do nothing but thank you. I’m Penny.”

“Pleasure,” Esmerelda said. She took the coin from the other woman slipped it into her pocket before bouncing a yellow potion free from her wicker basket. She popped the cork off, then paused. “Why haven’t you moved to one of these other seats? They’re clearly free.”

“Oh, I didn’t pay for them. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Trust me. They don’t mind,” Esmerelda said. “Nobody is using them. No point to waste a good view.”

Penny fidgeted in her seat. “Perhaps. Maybe I will move.”

Esmerelda doubted it. She could see in the woman’s eyes that she wouldn’t. That just wasn’t the type of person she was.

Gross. Anyone this kind must have been dropped on their head a few too many times as a child. What do you get out of being so concerned about others? A shit view, that’s what.

“Let’s get you the results of that future,” Esmerelda said with a fake smile. She put a hand on Penny’s shoulder. “I want you to focus your thoughts on your son. Then speak his name aloud.”

Penny nodded.

Esmerelda tipped the potion back into her mouth, swallowing it in a single gulp.

“Arnold,” Penny said.

Power coiled down Esmerelda’s throat. The air before her shimmered as brilliant gold lines visible only to her eyes twisted to life, guided by the thoughts flowing through her from Penny.

Almost instantly, they shifted to form the face of a young man, likely in his 20s. Curly hair, bright eyes, not exactly attractive but far from ugly. Esmerelda couldn’t keep herself from being impressed.

Forming an image so quickly was rare. To have such a sharp impression meant that Penny cared quite deeply for her son. For the magic to respond at this speed proved the intensity of her emotion.

Right then. Let’s see what the little brat does. He’s clearly not winning the tournament, but I imagine even a few wins should make him quite happy. Even one would be an enormous achievement for most adventurers.

The lines turned gray. Every trace of the gold light that had infused them evaporated. They froze the boy’s smile in place before crumbling away like dust in the wind.

And that was that. The potion’s power had been spent.

“Well?” Penny asked nervously. “How will Arnold do?”

“Fantastic,” Esmerelda said as an unfamiliar feeling set itself in her stomach. “He’s going to be thrilled with his performance.”

Penny let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, that’s so good to hear. Thank you, Esmerelda.”

“Of course, of course. Enjoy the tournament,” Esmerelda said, turning and leaving without waiting for a response.

The malaise in her stomach only grew stronger.

She’d lied.

While the potion could do nothing close to truly reading the future, there was only one situation where the person who it was focused on would have no response at all.

Arnold was going to die.