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B2 Chapter 35 - Competition
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 09:48:10 +0000 UTC“Lucca, over here!” Senith waved her arms. Testing was just about to start. Her brother looked lost while he looked around the stands, examining his surroundings.
Knowing her brother, Lucas probably wasn’t lost at all. He tended to wander around on purpose, searching for anything that looked interesting, scanning the area for strong ethereal presences. Strong hunters tended to act weird like that.
With Senith waving her arms, however, Lucas had no choice but to acknowledge her. He smiled and joined her on the front row seats.
“You’re late, airhead,” Senith said. “Don’t you know how difficult it is to fight for these seats?”
“I had things to do,” Lucas said. “The show is mostly waiting anyway. No use showing up just to sit around for nothing. Has Anthony shown up yet?”
“I think they’re about to introduce him,” Senith said. “The runesmiths have all gathered.”
Senith glanced again at the line of contestants. Her heart was beating. Not because anything particularly thrilling was happening, but because of a certain young girl standing alongside the best runesmiths of Shivenar. Senith still couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Vivi did say she was a runesmith, Senith recalled. But who could have thought she was this good?
“Huh?” Lucas said. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes, staring intently at the runesmiths. “Is that Vivi?”
“What?” Senith asked, head snapping to him in surprise. “You know her?”
“I met her in Vanhalla,” Lucas said. “That girl stands with the same posture.” He squinted. “That’s definitely the same girl. Vivi. She’s a wild one.”
Senith’s heart skipped a beat. Lucas didn’t recognize people by their faces, or by their outfits. He remembered his friends and peers from the way they used their feet. He recognized stances, techniques, or even just patterns in the way people walked.
And Lucas knew Vivi. He had noted down her way of standing. Something about Vivi was special enough for Lucas to remember her.
Lucas was smirking. “This damned witch. She’s a runesmith?” He sat down, his eyes now fully intent on watching the competition. “Looks like I should have come early after all. Which one is her sword?”
Before Senith could answer, the announcer’s loud voice echoed across the square.
“The first of this year’s special guests!” the announcer called. “A renowned runesmithing beauty expert of over forty years of experience—give it up for Kenrith Cambell!”
***
Runesmithing beauty expert? Vivi thought. Kenrith Cambell was a plump man with long curly hair, wearing a colorful royal robe. He waved at the audience upon his arrival. A seat was already picked for him—he headed directly to the judges’ rectangular table as if entering a buffet.
“Looks like he’ll be assessing our runesword,” Lucius said.
Beauty expert… Vivi repeated. She couldn’t believe such a title could exist. This is nonsense. If a customer thinks a sword looks good, it looks good. What matters is strength and durability.
The organizers seemed to disagree. Kenrith Campbell was treated as if he was some sort of genius. The announcer interviewed Kenrith over the amplifier. The beauty expert explained how he would be assessing runeswords not only through the beauty of their physical appearance, but through the artistic meaning of the runesmith behind the carving knife. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The runesmiths merely waited, standing respectfully, as Kenrith boasted. Luckily, it only lasted for a few minutes.
“Thank you, Kenrith,” the announcer said. “It is an honor to have you. The Luminary’s light be with you!”
The crowd cheered.
“They must have a strength test as well,” Lucius said. “We’ll dominate that one. If anyone half competent tests your sword, we—”
Lucius flinched, pausing his sentence.
Suddenly, a new presence filled Vivi’s sixth sense like a tidal wave washing over the square. The next arrival was not a nobleman or a king, but a man whose presence was like a sleeping boss monster’s.
“Our second special guest,” the announcer said, “the most talented of warriors, who happened to be passing by at the right time. A hunter of many nicknames and legendary achievements, a master of ether, and most importantly, a lover of runeswords. The Storm Devourer, Anthony Ailman!”
The crowd went crazy. The overwhelming dominance of the hunter’s presence filled Vivi’s sixth sense. Anthony Ailman was a relatively normal demon by appearance—he showed up wearing a simple wanderer’s cloak and light leather armor. His long brown hair was tied in a ponytail. His scorched skin appeared clean; a bath and washed clothes was all that separated him from a total hooligan straight from the blight.
Lucius was shivering, hiding deep inside Vivi’s core. “Vivi… Don’t say anything. Under no circumstances do anything that annoys that man.”
He’s not an enemy, Vivi thought, but she was as frozen as Lucius.
“He’s a fourth elevation hunter,” Lucius said. “I forgot how insane they are.”
“Anthony,” the announcer said, treating the man far more casually than Vivi would have ever dared. “It’s a great honor to have you here—in Shivenar’s runesmithing competition. Is it luck that brought you to the competition, or have the competitors this year taken your interest?”
Anthony stood with a relaxed posture, examining the area without saying anything. His nonchalance didn’t seem to be an act.
Eventually, he spoke into the amplifier. “My team seeks runeswords. That is all.”
“A man of few words,” the announcer said with a grin. “As legends often are. Anthony has agreed to perform an important part in the assessment of today’s runeswords. He is, of course, test swinging each blade.”
The crowd cheered again. The announcer waited for it to calm down. “To test the best runeswords of the competition, a stone, even a steel column, will not suffice. For a true test, Shivenar’s scientists have developed a new material. Introducing: surgestone!”
A small new ethereal presence appeared in Vivi’s senses. Two men pulled a large handcart with ropes. On top of the handcart was a block of some odd gooey substance. It shone vaguely with ether, tinted a light turquoise. The handcart was dragged next to Anthony, where the cart’s wheels were kicked sideways, letting cart drop flat on the ground.
“Surgestone is a dynamic material, made of the same properties that surges themselves originate from,” the announcer said. “The upper levels of this block are soft. The further a sword slashes, the more resistance the slab offers. The lowest inches are indestructible, as hard as levelstone itself. Surgestone is the material used to determine the strength of the most proficient of runeswords. Allow me to demonstrate.”
He unsheathed a blade—a simple single-runed sword not from the competition. He went into stance, then slashed a heavy overhead swing at the surgestone block.
The sword slashed four inches deep into the block, enough that the blade was submerged, but still less than tenth of the way through the entire block.
Upon contact, the surgestone blinked. A ripple of light went through the block. The material changed color from the mild turquoise to a slightly darker green.
“Surgestone changes color from the pressure it receives,” the announcer explained. “Green indicates slight damage—not nearly enough to cause harm to serious monsters. Green will grant contestants one point. Yellow is the next strongest, granting three points, followed by orange at six points. The strongest swords seek to achieve red, which will grant the sword ten whole points. For every five inches that the sword passes, another point will be added.”
He pulled his sword out of the block without much resistance. The slab repaired itself on its own, color turning back to turquoise, and the cut mark clearing itself.
Clever, Vivi thought. Grandpa would have loved to have some of this for himself.
“Let the judging begin!” the announcer called. “Kenrith, you may have the honor of picking the first sword.”
“Fancy,” Kenrith said. An amplifier had been placed to his clothes for his voice to echo. “Let us start with a new and upcoming runesmith. Nanse Swenlight, and her sword, Swansong!”
Nanse lowered her head. She a white-haired middle-aged demon, and the only female runesmith out of the ten alongside Vivi. She wasn’t large, but her hands and body were made mostly out of muscle.
A servant brought her sword to Kenrith’s table for examination. The judge examined it for half a minute, occasionally nodding and making satisfied expressions. He pushed ether through it and watched the flow of misty ether escaping, before he eventually spoke.
“A beautiful choice for a base sword. An adamantite shortsword. Some would call the choice easy. I believe it is efficient. The rune choice is peculiar; a flow rune combined with a crush rune. A cut with this sword will cause immense destruction. The lack of a strength or a sharpness rune is an interesting choice; it shows trust in the base sword. The runesmith must trust the adamantite blade to be strong enough to cut through without further assistance.”
Nanse had her head low. She was subtly biting her lip. Vivi only saw it because the woman was right next to her.
“It is a beautiful sword,” Kenrith said. “Beautiful enough that it hurts to offer it a number. I will offer it a solid six. Six out of ten.”
Nanse stayed bowed.
The sword was handed over to Anthony. Without waiting around, the hunter pushed ether through its runes. His expression didn’t change. He went into stance—his footwork was more impressive than the blade itself—and cast the sword into the block with the most beautiful swing Vivi had ever seen. The slab blinked, turning orange.
A demon with measuring tape rushed over to measure the cut, and another demon with some sort of ether scanner inspected the color change. They relayed the details to the announcer, who said, “Nine inches and a deep orange! Nanse’s Swansong scores seven points!”
The announcer moved to Anthony and said, “As is customary, Anthony has the right to allocate his personal score as well. How would you describe the feeling of swinging this sword?”
Anthony didn’t look impressed. “This sword would dominate small prey,” he said. “The rune combination is optimal for clearing hordes of lesser monsters. The short blade, however, makes the sword suboptimal for even that. This sword is not practical, and it’s not strong. My score is two points.”
The announcer blinked. “Blunt, but very truthful. Nanse Swenlight’s Swansong scores a total of fifteen points!”
Applause and a few cheers came from the crowd, but it was clear this was not the sword they’d waited for.
With the scoring done, the sword was returned to Nanse. She remained amongst the runesmiths with her sword.
The next examinations followed a similar pattern. Kenrith offered a lot of beauty points to just about every sword, praising them with pretty words. Then the swords were offered to Anthony, who appeared unimpressed at best. The most he offered was three points to Lowrey Eldwing’s sword.
Tobias Fing was the first runesmith to see any sort of respect from Anthony. With a beauty score of nine, having received over five minutes worth of praise from Kenrith Cambell, the sword cut thirty-three inches into the cube, almost halfway through, turning it pink.
“So close, yet still too far,” the announcer said. “Six points for the color of orange, though very close to red, and six additional points for the depth of the swing. Fing’s sword sits at an astounding twenty-one points, already two points ahead of Felix! Anthony, what do you have to say about Vengeance, Fing’s masterpiece?”
“A sword crafted in a week cannot be a masterpiece,” Anthony said. “However… This is a solid sword. A good one, even. I could use this as a backup. I will have to visit Fing’s smithy to see what his long-term projects look like. Six points.”
“Wow,” the announcer said. “That brings Tobias Fing’s Vengeance to twenty-seven points, taking the top spot by eight points!”
Cheers rang, and the sword was returned to Tobias. Further in the audience, Vivi saw people holding up small banners, one with a silly drawing of Tobias’s face next to a heart. They cheered his name.
Zack Vanhammer snorted and grinned on the opposite corner, muttering, “Not even red.”
The announcer moved to the display rack of swords. “Two swords remain to be tested. Perhaps the most interesting, or will one be the most disappointing?”
The announcer picked up Blossom. He brought it directly to the judges’ table and asked, “Kenrith Cambell, what do you think about inside-carving?”
Comments
Bob
He might also recognize how hard it is for a human to get from the 1st to the 5th level also it would be interesting if he knows enough to directly ask how hers compare to spirit blades
Jacob Maitland
Me yelling just get on with it ok but to be fair for another chapter of waiting for the results this one actually has quite a bit going on first of all (I called it) Lucas was Senith’s brother second of all that 4 ascension hunter first time we see someone at that level even the other bitch wasn’t that high and since he is a wandering hunter he probably knows what most human hunters are like so he will probably have some very high interesting moments with Vivi also remember at the start when Lusios was the reckless one and vivi was the cautious one yeah that’s pretty much been dead since Zand
Matizu
not gonna lie, I'm not sure where the hammer went 😂. Gonna need to look at things in editing
Bob
Can't wait to see the test. I wonder if Anthony will recognize her as a spirit wielder. It seems he has had exposure to them. Also does she still have the hammer there has been nothing about it for a while.I can see a rich Hunter wanting it as a specialized tool.Thank for the chapter.
