Chapter 522 – The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

“I was wondering which contestant was representing the Rubytongs,” Asterios said as the crowd took in the announcement. “None seemed outstanding enough to guarantee their win.”

“This must have been their plan all along. An all-out brawl to tire out the sole survivor and then pit him against a fresh contender.” Noir snarled. “They are pushing it extremely close.”

From what they could see amongst the spectators, she was correct. More and more people had already gone past the initial confusion at the unprecedented changes and were starting to grow frustrated. A different format of the challenge could still fly, but adding another one where the ruling party held a clear advantage?

The seams of bullshit were ready to burst.

“Should we step in, then?” Miria raised herself from the edge, cracking her neck.

Asterios studied their dwarf friend below. Garm was biting his nails nervously, but he didn’t seem panicked. It was clear the family head hadn’t expected another battle. Against a completely unknown creation that seemed a visible upgrade from the previous iteration at that.

He then leaned towards one of his peers and whispered something. The other guy jogged away.

~He instructed his subordinate to contact us and request help if things spiral out of control,~ Umbra conveyed the distant conversation. ~They can’t back down now, so their representative will fight. The suit should be enough. But, they don’t want to risk the life of their clan member in a rigged contest.~

“Tell him we’ll be ready,” Asterios said. “This trial will be much more difficult. Golems don’t feel pain. Everything depends on how advanced the logic state of that thing is.”

The message reached the patriarch as seen by his sudden flinch. After recovering from the little surprise, he strolled into the arena to stand next to the Power Suit. Complete silence blanketed the field once more as the two dwarves stared each other down intensely while flanked by their creations.

At least assuming the Battle Form imitation was the bold speaker’s creation.

A few whispers were exchanged between Garm and his friend behind the armor before he spoke up.

“Fine. We’ll play your game. It will be entertaining to see you knocked down a peg, Finnidas. Would have been better if your daddy decided to finally show his face after all those years, but beggars can’t be choosers.” Truvi’s grandpa grinned viciously. “Better watch your back. There is no rule against attacking the wielder.”

The man introduced as Finnidas scoffed. “You don’t know your place, Garm. I’m more than enough to handle all of you here. There’s no need to bother the Grand Patriarch.”

“If our great leader is even still alive…” Garm squinted.

The other dwarf turned red. “I’ll tell you who won’t be by the end of this! You and your whole clan! Open this thing up and prove you haven’t been operating the armor from the sidelines from the very beginning!”

Patriarch Garm snorted and rapped his knuckles against the suit. Something whirred inside, and a few pieces of the front plate slid aside, revealing a jungle of structural beams, piping, and lots of machinery. Behind all those, the figure of a quite sweaty man could be spotted through the gaps. The same one who had guided the Power Suit before.

“Now, good luck.” Truvi’s grandfather scoffed, turning around. “You’ll need it.”

The armor closed up, and the two Golems squared up. Finnidas remained on the field while Garm retreated into the section dedicated to his family. This one rule was impossible for Rubytongs to jump past without starting a riot right this instant. And the Hammertingle clan had just proved they weren’t trying to.

There was no signal that would start the bout. The crimson Golem launched a fiery breath at the onyx Power Suit without warning. It sputtered a little at first, but quickly adjusted the flow of the condensed fire to the point of it resembling one long candle flame that stabbed into its opponent. A loud hiss filled the air, and the armor’s protective plates heated up nearly to white in a blink.

The Golem intended to cook the wielder alive.

Thankfully, the heat dispersion system inside the Power Suit worked overtime to prevent that from happening. Sure, it wouldn’t last forever, and every next second of doing so resulted in permanent damage to the whole thing, but it bought the dwarf handler time to come up with a counterplay.

Ast’s party watched as the wings on its back shifted a little, revealing two sizable holes concealed beneath the membranes. They looked like sliced-off tips of two big pipes angled towards the ground. As thick steam wafted out of them, it quickly became clear that they were additional vents to guide the hot air outside.

And they were starting to shake.

Suddenly, the wisps of smoke turned into literal jets of milky-white mist, and the Power Suit shot into the air, leaving a cloudy trail behind its frame. People gasped at the sight, and those who were positioned behind the black armor threw themselves aside before the intense fire breath gave them more than a mild tan.

“It flies now?!” Miria’s jaw dropped in amazement.

“It flies now.” Asterios chuckled, just as astonished.

Up in the sky, the Power Suit spread its wings to their full capacity and threw itself into a spinning motion as it began to fall. When it retracted its wings, the rotations sped up by whole magnitudes, turning the armor into a man-sized drill. The red Golem had barely any time to recover after its flaming attack and got struck directly by the full weight of its opponent’s descent.

The entire area quivered from the crash, a big cloud of dust rising from the point of impact. A figure was launched out of it and tumbled over the field for a bit, revealing itself as the crimson Golem. It was noticeably dented, but already getting up to continue the battle. The obstruction disappeared as the Power Suit swung one of its wings to create a gust of wind, stumbling a little from the brunt of the force that its driver had experienced.

“Too bad Blackie can’t just fly around infinitely.” Miria pouted. “He would have it in the bag, then.”

“Blackie?” Noir blinked at her.

“The Power Suit is black, isn’t it? The name is cool, but it’s a mouthful. Just like the Crimson True Dragon Battle Form Golem. So, Blackie and Crim. Short and simple.” The panthergirl tilted her head at the Dragon woman cutely.

Noir snorted, choosing not to comment further.

Down in the arena, Blackie and Crim entered close-quarters combat. The latter didn’t have a dedicated weapon, but its arms were much longer and ended in sharp claws, so it wasn’t exactly at a disadvantage. On the contrary, the Golem was aware of its size and used it effectively against the bulkier but shorter Power Suit, swiftly dodging the maul and going for counterattacks.

Fortunately, the metals it was made of didn’t seem vastly superior to the alloys the Hammertingle family had come up with during their partnership with Asterios. The scarlet claws left only shallow marks in the onyx armor. Every swipe was still powerful enough to make the Blackie stumble, but the protective layer held. The only way to bypass it was to get through the extremely thin slits that vented the steam out.

In comparison, the crevices between Crim’s red plates were wide enough to thrust a fist through them. Although that wouldn’t be the best idea, as the visible crimson energy filling up the insides was noticeably volatile. To be perfectly honest, fighting against these weird Golems that the Rubytongs had come up with was actually more like fighting against spiritually enhanced Living Armor.

Especially since there seemed to be a core somewhere in that energy. But it was harder to reach than the one the Power Suit’s operator luckily overloaded during the qualifiers.

Which was what Blackie was planning to do this time too.

When the chaotic melee came to a brief pause as his maul threw Crim’s arms upwards, he abandoned the weapon, grabbed the draconic imitation by the throat with one thick hand, and made a fist with the other. The familiar blade wrapped in lightning slid out above it, and he quickly drove it into the gap at the collar.

The Golem spasmed under the powerful current, bluish arcs jumping between the two of them and the ground. But, while it was temporarily immobilized, it soon became clear that this was not enough to cause an explosion. Whatever this upgraded version of the Fe-Line was, it boasted much higher durability and resistance to lightning attacks.

Suddenly, claws wrapped around the suit’s wrist that housed the hidden sword. In a flurry of motion, the crimson puppet dislodged the blade and maneuvered its path so finely that it swung towards its owner. The armor’s elbow bent to its limits, which were still enough for the lightning-clad edge to slam into the shoulder joint, currently exposed from the awkward angle. It bypassed the scaly plates and sliced cleanly through the internal body, severing the whole limb.

Gasps traveled through the audience as the arm was tossed away, a visible hole in the Power Suit’s side. The smart Golem targeted it immediately, but the armor’s operator fought back, covering his weak spot in desperation. He was fully on the defensive now, and Ast’s team tensed up, expecting the moment to separate the two to arrive at any second now.

A quick swipe of Crim’s tail and Blackie landed on his back. Instead of claws, fists now rained upon his front as the Golem barraged him with a downpour of punches aimed at one singular point. Bit by bit, a dent appeared and started growing deeper. Right above the spot where the owner’s face sat inside the armor. His opponent must have perfectly memorized it from the short flash it had gotten during Finnidas’ outburst.

However, things weren’t as lost as they might have seemed.

The Power Suit’s wings spread out, and one of the exhausts at its back came to life again, spewing out lots of steam. Without the second one active, it threw the armor into a spinning motion that sent sparks at the contact of the deadly wingtips with the Golem’s shins. The rotations became so fast that the friction began heating up the contact point and pushing through.

Fortunately for Rubytongs, Crim reacted the moment its legs were halfway cut, abandoning its assault. Blackie fired up the other vent and stopped sooner than anyone expected. Then, with a burst of mist from both slanted pipes, he was pushed to a standing position with a deafening thump. His heavy feet stomped over the draconic imitation’s toes, and he extended his remaining hand to the side, snapping his fingers. The maul flew into his hand with a metallic thunk.

A vicious uppercut came next, further intensified by a gust of flame from one of the Dragon heads atop the maul. The blow connected with the puppet’s snout hard enough that the partially sliced shins gave up, and the body bent towards the pavement. The positions from just earlier had reversed.

But, instead of hammering down the fallen construct, the Hammertingle representative flicked something along his weapon’s shaft. Shockingly, the head of the maul came apart, the two Dragon faces falling off, turning the maul into a spike topped with a glowing crystal. Blackie twirled the pole and stabbed the pointy tip into a gap in the Golem’s front plate.

It started resisting immediately, but one foot of the Power Suit moved to keep it down. The armor’s holder summoned the first Dragon face just like he had summoned his weapon, then snapped the draconic jaws around one of Crim’s flailing forearms, which immediately slammed into the floor like the thing weighed a ton. The same thing happened to the other forearm, the draconic mockery lying spread out on the field.

Everyone watched with bated breath for the finishing move.

And they weren’t disappointed.

The Hammertingle warrior grabbed the protruding spike and the armor’s red glow intensified greatly, puffs of fresh steam flowing freely in a circle around him as power surged from the suit into the weapon. Golden flashing arcs, multiple times stronger than the previous lightning, snapped between three specific points. It was the tip of the spear and the two draconic clasps.

In seconds, the Golem’s plates heated up considerably from the unruly energy. Bit by bit, its power source was going out of control, targeted not by a single discharge but by a continuous assault of three simultaneous streams of lightning. This draconic construct might have come after the Fe-Lines, but it seemingly was not fully immune to lightning.

As expected, the thing blew up after reaching its limits.

The aftermath settled on its own this time, and the audience peered into the receding ashes until the battered frame of the Power Suit appeared amidst the carnage. Nobody even twitched in suspense, and then, the armor stumbled back, falling onto its ass, announcing that the contestant inside was still alive.

Cheers exploded from all around, and the very air shook with their ferocity. The fight itself might not have been spectacular, but the meaning it carried reached the hearts of all mountain dwarves. This was the end of a single family’s dominion over their kin. The Rubytongs had finally been bested.

“SILENCE!” A booming voice cut through the celebrations, silencing the spectators.

All the eyes slid towards Finnidas, bruised and battered, his robes torn in many places, even though he had kept his distance from the center of the clash. He wore a furious expression, twisting his face into an ugly mug.

“Now, now, friend.” Patriarch Garm emerged from the crowd and approached him slowly. “I hope you are interrupting this joyful moment to make it even merrier by announcing the winner of this Clash.”

“That’s enough!” The other man jabbed a finger his way. “The verdict is suspended! You are under suspicion of relying on outside influence to gain an upper hand in the contest! Nothing made in Wintercrown can damage our clan’s secret alloy!”

“Nothing?” Truvi’s grandpa raised a brow at him. “Are you saying that not a single family amongst our kin is capable of producing that metal even after years of research? Or that the only way to achieve it is to collaborate with an outsider? Just like you did?”

Finnidas tensed visibly as the Hammertingle Patriarch was starting to hit concurrent nails on the head.

“We did no such thing!” The Rubytongs’ representative shook his fists. “We’ve gotten where we are through our own wits and effort!”

“Yeah? And that’s why you chose to build a Golem closely resembling that of a True Dragon’s humanoid frame?” Garm crossed his arms over his chest.

“Like you are the one to talk!” Finnidas laughed openly. “You can’t lie that your armor doesn’t! It even has wings!”

“That it does. And I’m not denying anything.” Truvi’s grandfather smirked. “They are both made from the same thing, aren’t they? Terrasteel quenched in True Dragon blood, tempered countless times in Dragon Fire, straight from a live and hearty specimen.”

The man’s eyes bulged out. “Nonsense! How could you even tell such a ridiculous thing?”

The smirk grew into a full grin as Garm glanced high over his shoulder. “It takes one to recognize one.”

Up atop one of the roofs, Asterios sighed to himself and stepped past the edge.

Just as Finnidas was preparing another rebuttal, a loud roar echoed through the area. A massive shadow launched itself from within the city, pausing above the gathered people to spread its wings. Everyone watched the smoking silhouette dive towards the ground and strike the pavement, a gust of black mist rolling over the stone floor. Slowly, the shadows dripped down from the creature like they were liquid, revealing an ominous Onyx True Dragon standing behind the Hammertingle clan head. A reverberating growl escaped its vicious jaws as it directed its vertical pupils at the man opposite them.

“Where is he?” Asterios spoke in his deep tone with a lazy drawl.

“What?” Finnidas took a step back. “W-Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me, dwarf.” More smoke puffed out of Ast’s nostrils. “The red bastard you are sheltering in that mountain. Bring him here this instant. You won’t like it if I move instead.”

“Wait! You are mistaken!” The man waved his arms desperately. “There’s no one like that! I swear!”

Asterios let out a cacophonous laugh, flashing him all his massive fangs. “Is that what you believe? Or what you’ve been told by your elders? Doesn’t matter. I can smell his power in your toys. And that doesn’t make me happy.”

“You really thought you could fuck around with a True Dragon without it coming to bite you in the ass?” Garm shook his head in disappointment. “Fools! Fools, all of you!”

He then spun around and faced the silent spectators, who were frozen in fear, aware that their little homes wouldn’t provide much safety in front of an ancient threat like this.

“Listen up, people of Wintercrown!” Garm shouted as loud as he could. “For almost two decades, we’ve been lied to! We’ve been manipulated! Made into idiots! Just so these bastards can hold onto the fragment of authority they had wrenched from our hands with the help of an enemy! And not just any enemy! Not even the enemy of our race, but the whole godsdamned realm!”

Everyone listened intently, many already having their doubts for a long time.

“The proof lies right here!” He gestured at Ast’s haunting frame. “This other True Dragon has only shown up at our doorstep to hunt the one they conspired with! We are lucky it’s only interested in its prey, else our home would have been reduced to rubble long ago! And all of this is only happening because, even with everything that they had already altered within our sacred traditions, they couldn’t abide by the new rules they themselves set!”

Taking a few breaths to compose himself a little, the man spread his arms wide.

“Are you going to let them ruin our legacy even more? To endanger our people? Our children?” Garm snarled to himself. “Now is the time to forget the rivalry and gather up! Only together we can uproot this vermin that has occupied our basement! Only together can we reclaim our rightful place in the tunnels of the Miner’s Descent!”

As he finished, silence stretched through the air. The speech might have been emotional, maybe even rallying, but there was one big problem that stood in front of its full effect. People might have been angry with the Rubytongs, but they were much more scared by the True Dragon currently sitting in the middle of them.

An almost maniacal laughter finally broke the spell.

“Took you long enough to figure this out!” Finnidas continued cackling, then grew deathly serious. “And you could have remained blissfully unaware—and alive—if only you had kept your heads down. I really hoped it wouldn’t have gotten to this, but you leave us no choice. It’s long past time Wintercrown was born anew, free of its old, stifling mold. Just like a Phoenix, from ashes, and rubble.”

He reached into the loose sleeve of his garb and pulled out a tuning fork the size of a shortsword.

“Farewell, brothers and sisters.” The man aimed the tip at the ground. “We’ll build a better world with your glorious sacrifice.”

With a manic smile, he struck the pavement. A pleasant but also dreadful note sang through the air as the metal prongs vibrated. Seconds passed without much else happening, and the spectators started glancing around, expecting something. And so did the person with the tool in hand.

“What?” Finnidas examined the fork and struck it a few times more.

“Are you looking for these?” Asterios flicked a claw at him.

Shadows pooled between them and brought up a full cache of colorful vials. Shouts and screams rolled through the audience as many instantly recognized the solutions inside. The trial ring widened as the front rows of the gathered pushed themselves back.

“Are you crazy?!” Finnidas hastily squeezed the prongs with his meaty fingers, silencing them.

“Why not try again?” Asterios snickered.

Before the man could answer, a hand shot past his face and stole the tuning fork. He whipped around to watch a black-haired woman stroll away from him with deadly grace, a dark tail proudly swaying behind her tight hips.

“These boxes have been spread all over the sewers underneath the city,” Asterios explained, roaming his gaze over the dwarves around them. “It looks like some of you are already familiar with the liquids inside the vials, but let me demonstrate for everyone else.”

Noir flicked the fork with her finger, producing a much louder hum than the dwarf man had.

The cache blew up into a chain of explosions that kept expanding the radius with each blast. Asterios didn’t let it spread too much, sending out his shadows to wrap around the whole thing. They kept flickering with a few flashes pushing through for about half a minute, then the hazardous reaction stopped.

Faced with the reality of what had been said and shown, the crowd erupted just as hard.

Then, the ground shook violently, and everyone’s eyes shot towards the fortress. Its stone facade crumpled at once and came crashing down, revealing the same coppery metal Asterios had already seen underground. The entire Stone Citadel wasn’t stone anymore. It looked like the Rubytongs had enough time in their twenty years of rule to make a few upgrades.

“You are really dumb if you thought that was our last card!” Finnidas smacked himself in the forehead, discarding a second tuning fork. “Well, I guess it’s time for Plan B. It won’t be as clean as the other one, but at least we won’t have to reconstruct the whole shelf. See you never, blockheads!”

He tapped his foot and disappeared. And not just him alone, the entire Rubytongs delegation fell through some kind of a trapdoor, clearly set up as their escape route. It was obvious where those hidden paths led.

But what was more important was what happened above the ground.

Numerous faraway explosions rippled through the air, and the same number of dusty trails extended from the cliff, just like when the draconic imitation had been called into the arena. This time, however, the projectiles were aimed all over the city. A shower of Golems fell upon Wintercrown in a merciless assault. Given minutes, they would make up a whole army.

“They intend to wipe us out with those monsters!” someone screamed and all hell broke loose.

“Damn it!” Miria blinked into existence next to Asterios. “We can’t just let them massacre everyone, Master!”

She looked between the newly unveiled castle walls and the civilian buildings on the opposite side. Asterios could sense the conflict in her mind. His cheery mate hated the thought of letting people die, but really didn’t want to abandon the pursuit of the Rubytongs, feeling like that would fail and disappoint him greatly.

As he was going to reassure her that their thoughts aligned on the matter more than she assumed, a humongous wall of shadows unexpectedly rose from the ground, right in front of the fortress. It surged, expanding to the sides as far as they could see, obstructing the cliffside. Then, its surface rippled in various points, and figures emerged from within the gloom.

First came Tina and Silvia, walking shoulder by shoulder. The Dragon Guard flew out from above them in a defensive formation, quickly spreading in the air. Not just the main force, even the second squad currently in training, both Lesser Dragons and their rider companions.

Second came Selene, flanked by Ronye and Lerisse. They didn’t stop, continuing to walk forward to make space for the Spiritual Fox troop Asterios had seen training in a hidden cave. All fifty adepts wore battle-ready expressions, hungry to prove themselves in battle.

Third came Bryn and Atra, flapping their feathery wings as they gazed upon the field with their observant expressions. About two dozen valkyrjas in full glimmering gear gathered around them, undoubtedly having been snuck in through the recently finished spatial gate. The angelic women seemed just as eager to pay Ast’s nation back for everything.

Fourth came Oria, Zoe, Grigorji, Ulgier, and Narmaya. Their otherworldly guildmaster led a contingent of beastfolk adventurers on their most likely first battle assignment in this dimension. As such, a few faces were anxious and unsure, but still prepared to lend aid. Many more appeared as grizzled and lively as those of well-experienced veterans.

Fifth came Althea, Phatru, Rusilthea, and Visenna, all in their full forms. They didn’t have any escorts as their charges remained under Tina’s orders during their military service. Perhaps one day, more Lesser Dragons would be let into Glimmervale without those contracts, but for now, the ladies formed their own small unit.

~We’ll handle things out here, love,~ Grea’s voice echoed in Ast’s head. ~I can see every single entity on the map, friend or foe. With my guidance, there’s no way we’ll lose even one person. Focus on the target. Squeeze some good answers out of those fuckers.~

Asterios hummed to himself, watching the combined forces depart into Wintercrown at once. He could hear Miria’s awed gasps and spotted the slight rise of Noir’s brows, indicating some level of approval.

~Very well. But you girls will have some explaining to do after we are done.~ He chuckled warmly. ~Umbra, get in touch with the resistance. Have them prepare their safehouses and spread their people through the sewers. Let’s evacuate civilians into the tunnels while our guys tackle the Golems in the city. Don’t pay mind to property damage, save as many lives as you can. That’s our priority. Help out with Shadow Movement if things start looking dire. Otherwise, let us give some experience to our new army.~

~Orders received, Master.~ His loyal friend went to work immediately, and Grea sent a confirmation through the bond too.

“Alright.” Asterios turned towards the copper citadel, his voice returning to normal. “Looks like the three of us need to infiltrate this reinforced fort. Ready for some action, ladies?”

“Yes!” Miria bounced on her feet. “Should we burst in through the front door and give them a good scare?”

“They are definitely expecting that.” Noir rolled her eyes. “We should find a different angle. As you recall, our scrying was obstructed, and I didn’t step inside just in case they could somehow sense the intrusion. We don’t know what might await us there. Besides more of those constructs.”

“Hmmm…” The panthergirl tapped her lip thoughtfully. “What about… the wall in the sewers that the dwarves found?”

“That’s… a rather solid approach.” The Dragon girl was ready to dismiss the idea, but found it more than sound.

“Good thinking.” Asterios transformed back to his humanoid form and scratched behind Miria’s ear. “Let’s give their back entrance a light knock.”