As Zoga watched his son shatter the hardest stone in the kingdom, he stood frozen, unable to utter a word. In his lifetime, he had never imagined witnessing such a miracle.
I turned to Chintrumma, "Get your body accustomed to that power. Train as best you can. Tomorrow, you'll face Heiman, and time is running out."
"I will definitely defeat him," Chintrumma replied with confidence, beginning to practice alone in the open field.
Zoga and I left him alone to give him some space for practice. At that moment, I discussed the next day's match with the father. I asked, "Is there any Black Iron left here?"
"There is, but it's under Heiman's control."
"Do you know where his house is?"
Zoga guided me to the front door and pointed west. "His house is about seven blocks from here. If I may ask, what do you need the Black Iron for?"
"To forge an anti-Broja shield. I'm going to his house now."
In an instant, I vanished from Zoga's presence. I was hovering above Heiman's rooftop. Peering through a gap, I found this man's abode was just as grand as Zoga's. Numerous corridors and rooms sprawled throughout, but it felt darker and more desolate, as if the owner lived alone.
I swiftly searched for some place where Heiman kept the Black Metal before being caught by someone. After slipping through the chimney, I opened room after room, inspecting every storage space. Finally, I arrived at a slightly smaller room at the back. Beneath the wooden floor lay a box made of the same material. Upon opening it, I discovered a substantial supply of Black Iron. After getting what I needed, I returned to Zoga's house.
Well, technically, this was theft. But considering this society values strength over morals and ethics, I doubt it could be deemed a crime.
Upon returning, I displayed the Black Iron before Zoga. Yet instead of awe or surprise, the old man looked perplexed.
He tilted his head and said, "You want to make an anti-Broja shield with all this metal, but what will you use? This metal has seven times the hardness of titanium. Only Heiman has the tools to shape it."
I smiled and replied, "Don't worry about it. I don't need any tools."
Zoga scratched his head in confusion. I placed all the Black Iron on the floor and began channeling celestial energy. Gradually, the metal heated up, turning crimson, then melting. I continued to heat it until it became thin enough for armor.
During the process, I asked Zoga, "What's Chintrumma's size? Will this suit him?"
Zoga nodded.
Once I was satisfied with the shape, I focused on crafting the armor as perfectly as possible for comfort. After five hours of continuous energy channeling, I finally finished. The sun was beginning to set, casting a melancholic glow over the kingdom of Adlan.
I brought the armor to Chintrumma, who was still diligently training. He was combining energy channeling with new, more practical techniques. It seemed he had taken my advice to heart and was improving his weaknesses.
Zoga then called, "Chintrumma, could you come over for a moment?"
The son ran toward us, his eyes widening at the silver armor in my hands. He examined it carefully from top to bottom.
"What is this?" he asked.
I explained, "This is anti-Broja armor, made from Black Iron. It can withstand radioactive attacks and extreme heat, like Broja. Give it a try."
Chintrumma took the armor inside. Moments later, he returned, wearing the gleaming suit that was the hardest metal known. It fit him perfectly.
"This armor feels comfortable," Chintrumma said, admiring himself.
"Now continue your training while channeling energy into this armor. Your strength should increase significantly," I instructed.
Chintrumma began to practice his moves again. This time, every motion produced a sound like thunder, and the wind whipped around him like a tempest with each strike. The armor effectively acted as a conductor for his energy. Zoga smiled, pride evident as he clapped softly from the edge of the field.
As night fell, I told Chintrumma for time to rest and recover his energy. Despite his immense strength, rest was still essential. To ensure his victory in the match tomorrow, he needed to be in prime condition.
"Thank you for all your help, Rhinggamana," Zoga said. "But you and your lady should rest as well. I've prepared two empty rooms for you. Or would you like to share a room tonight?"
Kwanita and I exchanged glances filled with uncertainty. Finally, she blushed and said to Zoga, "Thank you, but I think we'll take the two separate rooms."
"Very well then."
The next day, as the sun began to shine down on the majestic buildings throughout the Adlan kingdom, preparations for the tournament got underway. Since the leadership of the country had changed, some new rules had begun to be implemented. Including the decoration of the stage where the sparring arena had been decorated to his taste. It seemed like the man had high confidence that he would win this match.
One by one, the audience began to arrive. Today was much more crowded than yesterday. Old, young, merchants, and ordinary spectators were all present to fill the benches that had been provided. There were even some people who placed bets on the winner of this match. Many were betting on Heiman's victory, though most of them sympathized with Chintrumma. There were still a few people who placed bets on Zoga's son.
Kwanita, Zoga, and I found seats with the best view of the match. Soon, Heiman leaped onto the stage in his usual flamboyant manner, donning a luxurious robe made from the softest animal fur. Cheers erupted in his favor as he strutted around like a king. In contrast, Chintrumma ascended the arena steps like an ordinary guy, his confident smile evident.
Heiman looked down at the young man, saying, "Since yesterday, I've been thinking about you and your father. I've come to a conclusion: I'm sure a little brat like you only dares to challenge me under the advice of that white-haired guest over there, am I right? You have no ability to defeat me, not even your father!"
Chintrumma replied casually, "You're quite chatty today, Heiman. Unlike yesterday."
"That's because I believe I will defeat you easily. But if I won outright like yesterday, it would be a boring match. Let's make this match interesting."
Heiman pointed sharply at me from the stage, shouting, "Since this guest dared to meddle in our internal affairs, I want him to participate in this battle! Let's spice things up with a wager. If I win, the woman sitting on the lotus flower beside him will become my wife—how about that?"
"What!" Kwanita gasped, taken aback. "Wait a moment, why am I involved in this?"
Chintrumma interjected, "Stop, Heiman. They have nothing to do with our issues. This is solely between you and me."
Heiman replied, "I didn't want to drag them into this either. But that white-haired man intervened first. And that woman beside him, who always follows him wherever he goes, is very beautiful. I fell in love with her from first sight. Her beauty keeps me up all night."
"You're insane!"
"What can I say? I've been single for too long. A great king like me deserves a beautiful couple."
Chintrumma looked at me from the stage with a questioning expression. I merely nodded slightly to give my approval, alleviating his doubts.
He then asked Heiman, "And what if you lose?"
"Well, I'll relinquish my throne and return to being a blacksmith, just like before. For the rest of my life, I'll devote myself to blacksmithing and completely withdraw from the martial world."
"Very well. I accept it!"
"Then it's settled. Let the match begin!"
The audience erupted in cheers, accompanied by the beating of drums that quickened the heart. Heiman shed his grand robe, taking his fighting stance.
Kwanita then asked with a pleading eye, "Wait a minute? Are you serious, Rhinggamana? Are you really going to allow me to be a wager in this match?"
I gently ruffled her hair, assuring her, "Don't worry. Everything will be fine; you have my word."
Kwanita's face remained anxious, fear clouding her thoughts about how this match would unfold.
Once both fighters were ready in the arena, the match began. Heiman was the first to attack. He used his close-range fighting techniques, blindly trying to land punches on his opponent. But Chintrumma easily dodged them. In his eyes, the man's movements were extremely slow and weak. Even if the punch hit him, there was no way it would harm him.
In a single flick of the hand, all of Heiman's attacks were knocked away with ease. Several times the big man was knocked down by the dainty blows from the boy's hands. As he tried to get up, Heiman's anger grew. He tried to jump up and hit Chintrumma with his body directly. But the result was unexpected. With just a light slap on the forehead, the man fell back to the floor.
The crowd laughed at Heiman's strange expression. His eyes squinted sideways, like those of an autistic person. When he got up, he wobbled in an indeterminate direction due to his out-of-sync vision. With a vigorous shake of his head, his eyes instantly returned to normal. His anger was getting to the maximum point. He felt deeply insulted by the treatment of Zoga's son.
Heiman yelled, "You little brat! Take this—Broja's spell!"
Remembering yesterday's incident, where seven people were instantly vaporized into dust, Chintrumma was still hesitant to accept Broja's magic power directly. He immediately crossed both hands in front of his face when Broja's rays hit him. The result left Heiman wide-eyed in disbelief. His signature move did nothing. Let alone causing wounds, even his attack was unable to make Chintrumma's hair fall out by a single strand.
Heiman shook his head in confusion. Out of curiosity, he increased the power of the tool at his waist until it reached fifty percent power capacity, then shouted, "Why don't you just die!"
A huge spherical energy shot towards Chintrumma. The young man's confidence was already unshakable. He set up a stance, then channeled his energy towards his chest where Heiman's attack was targeted. When it hit him, there was a collision between the power of his armor and Broja's energy.
A powerful explosion reverberated throughout the arena, hollowing out the stage in an instant. Rocks from the sparking attack were thrown freely into the sky, hitting the bleachers. Many screamed and fled to safety to avoid the rocks that suddenly fell from the sky.
With the stage in ruins, Heiman and Chintrumma moved outside the arena. The crowd quickly formed a circle, eager to witness the battle up close. Only my seat, alongside Kwanita and Zoga, remained untouched amidst the chaos.
Heiman's rage intensified as he saw his ultimate technique being toyed with by a mere child. "Screw all of this! If I can't win the match, then you all shall die with me!"
The man was about to exert all of Broja's power to the utmost, but I prevented him by saying, "Heiman! Don't you dare try to unleash Broja's full power. You'll be roasted to death, along with everyone around you."
Heiman shot back defiantly, "Silence, one-handed man! If you disagree, come and stop me!"
I can confirm that if Heiman unleashes all of Broja's power, mass extermination will occur. Everyone in this place would vanish without a trace. I then said to the lady beside me, "Kwanita, it's time for me to act."
When Heiman tried to set Broja's power to one hundred percent, I moved at lightning speed to release the device on his belt without him noticing. As soon as the device changed hands to me, I immediately squeezed it to pieces while reducing the radiation that had begun to almost explode until it was gone.
"What happened? Where's my Broja device?" Heiman said, frantically feeling around his waist. As a result, some of the remaining equipment still stored there emitted a green gas and sounded as if he had farted.
Laughter erupted from the crowd, relishing his misfortune. He soon noticed my presence behind him.
With a mix of rage and desperation, he yelled, "You! This is your doing, you strange-haired man! I will never forgive you! Take this!"
While crying like a desperate baby, the man tried to hit me blindly. His tears were falling as if each blow was representative of all the humiliation he'd gotten today. I didn't dodge any of his attacks. I just stood by doing nothing, letting this man channel all his anger. The punches themselves had no effect on me. I barely felt anything.
Eventually, he exhausted himself. He sat down on his knees in front of me like a loser. I then said, "Be aware of yourself, Heiman. Your strength is best used as a blacksmith. There is no need to use it for other things. You are the best blacksmith here. Put all your best skills where they belong. The sooner you realize where you belong, the sooner you will stop being humiliated.
I tried to raise my hand to encourage him to get up, but he spat on my hand as he ran away. From a distance he then shouted, "I will return with greater power! One day, I will definitely defeat all of you!"
With that loser gone, today's match was over with Chintrumma coming out as the winner. All the audience cheered to welcome the new leader. And the strongest cheers of all were those who bet on Chintrumma's victory.