The Stray Smith

by Born of Prayers

"A Sword is not Strength. A Sword is not Skill. A Sword is not Fellowship." These were the tenets of the Craftknight. And for the amnesiac Welf, they became a truth upon his time spent in the City of Swords as part of a story involving eight apprentices, four swords, and what lay at the bottom of the Labyrinth of Wystern.

5. Chapter 4: Preliminaries - Part 1

Pratty was a bundle of excitement and nerves as she paced her room when the day of the preliminaries arrived. Or, specifically, their set of preliminary matches. There were enough applicants that it was going to be more than a hundred rounds to get one victor, meaning you couldn't pack all of them into a single day.

The excitement was the chance to finally put what she had been practicing all week into action. The time spent in the Labyrinth had resulted in her getting better with her weapon, and she felt that she herself had gotten stronger. She could even kill a Slime in two stabs now, so it was the time to take her first steps in following after her father as a Craftlord.

The nerves came from the fact that she could always fail. She could always get so completely overwhelmed that she didn't last five seconds. It would be humiliating for her not only as the daughter of the former Craftlord of Iron, but also as an apprentice of Master Bron if she failed so badly.

Would Mother be disappointed in me for not living up to Father's legacy if I fail? Her lips furled into a frown as her feet paused at the thought. It had been a few days since she last saw her mother and she hoped she was doing well alone at the house. She wanted to visit her after the match, but the thought of doing so if she lost left her feeling sick to her stomach.

"Kutty!"

"Ow!" She brushed her cheek where her Guardian Beast punched her abruptly. Kutty punching her was nothing new since he could be a little terror when he wanted to be. But she didn't think she did anything to warrant it this time. "What was that for!?"

The wind-hued Magical Beast drifted slightly lower to her pocket and pressed against it. "Ku…"

Her bubbling emotions dwindled as she knew what was in that pocket. She pulled out the protective charm that had once been her father's. Her mother had made it for him when they were younger, and he was never harmed when he had it according to her—it was the one day he didn't have it on him that he died.

Kutty then snuggled into her hair like he was trying to affectionately rustle it. His fur naturally tickled, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. In fact, it reminded her of how her father used to do so.

Pratty remembered one time after she had fallen into the water when she was younger. She didn't know how to swim yet so, when he had pulled her out, Pratty clung to her father for dear life and cried into his chest. But he would brush her head and tell her everything would be alright.

That was the same sort of feeling that she got from him now.

"Are you trying to get me to calm down?" The wind-toned Guardian Beast purred in acknowledgement. "You didn't have to punch me, but I get it. Panicking now won't do any good. I'll just have to do my best."

Pleased that he had gotten his message across, Kutty drifted off the top of her head as she grabbed her favorite helmet and slipped it onto her head. Then she checked on her weapon before sheathing it. Last, she tucked the charm back into her pocket and then clapped her cheeks before heading out of her workshop and down the stairs.

She discovered the rest of the apprentices were already on the First Floor. Bron had mentioned at Breakfast that he wanted them ready to depart at the same time, since that meant they would be able to get into the Tournament Hall at the same time without risking anyone being late. She pointedly chose to ignore that he was staring at her when he mentioned that.

Sanary was sitting on a box that was pushed up against the wall with her legs crossed. She had her Iron Saber in her hands and was polishing it with a cloth. Her eyes only flicked up from the blade long enough to see it was Pratty coming down before returning to the weapon.

The twins, Ariel and Mariel, were both off by the entrance to the forge. They had what appeared to be a sketch pad with what looked to be some complicated jargon written down next to the image of a drill. One of them was making gestures while pointing to it, while the other shook her head as if to state whatever it was wouldn't work.

Caizo was nearby them and had a pensive look as he listened into their conversation. Pratty recalled that his Guardian Beast was a Mechanoid called Rygel, so he probably would be able to make a drill if they spent time on it. Even so, he still his axe slung on his back with a little hook that let you insert the handle portion and then twist it so that it wouldn't come out without doing the reverse motion.

Trish was also in the process of talking to that Razzy kid. Her spear was slung across her shoulder with a leather sling that could switch the anchor point, so that she could shift it around to a comfortable length. She was standing there smiling and nodding her head as she listened to the child go on about something, making punching motions with their Novice Knuckles.

The only one missing was Welf.

He was missing at Breakfast too. Normally, she at least saw him at Breakfast even if he hadn't been at Dinner the day prior. But the fact that she hadn't seen him then meant that he was probably still working on his weapon. If that was hours ago then…

The door to Bron's room opened before she could think on it further. The Silver Master drew their attention with a loud clap of his hands and then barked, "Alright, time's almost upon ya now! Line up and ah'll give ya the notices sent by the folks at the Central Tower this mornin' about yer opponents!"

They moved to form a line in the center of the room, with Pratty standing at the rear of it behind Razzy.

Bron's eyes skimmed over them all for a moment before he took notice of the absence. "The stray's still not down 'ere yet? I told 'em not to be draggin' his heels after skippin' out on Breakfast!"

"I can go get him!" Pratty offered. "I'm sure he's just—"

"I'm here," his voice came from atop the stairs before Pratty could come up with some excuse for his absence. The red-headed smith came lumbering down the stairs still dressed in his dark clothes. Slung over his left shoulder was a blade that was about as tall he was. "Just doing some last-minute polishing so it'd be presentable."

"You finished it!" Pratty broke from the line to inspect it up close. The dark grey steel ran the length of a rigid spine that sloped down steeply to the sharpened edge, unlike before when it had been more gradual. It had a wider bevel than she expected, and both the guard and grip were plain. He had shaped them to fulfill their function without any sort of embellishments or decorations.

"It still needs its final test," Welf said with a slight smile before his expression flattened out. He then turned to Bron and held it out. "If you would, Master?"

The unspoken meaning was lost on her as until Bron's expression scrunched up. The Silver Master then wordlessly drew his very large hammer and reared it back. Pratty finally caught on when she saw the twins and Sanary covering their ears and moved to do the same.

GONG!

The sound of a massive mallet molded from Mystic Ore mashing mercilessly into the blade left her to nearly jump up in shock. The impact was notable as Welf, who had more than once been shown able to lug a heavy blade around with little trouble, struggled when it nearly came out of his grasp. The blade sported a spidering fissure that spread out from the impact as well.

Pratty was horrified at the sight, knowing how long he had been working on that. "Master, you almost broke his weapon!"

Welf, on the other hand, only grinned. "It didn't though. Did it?"

"Hm." Bron's face scrunched up, but he returned the grin. "Didn't even crack the core steel. Acceptable."

She looked between the two like they had lost their minds. Then she grabbed her hair tails sticking from the horn slots in her helmet and let out a frustrated huff. "Is this some sort of macho guy thing!?"

Welf finally explained things to her. "Basically, if I had made it out of a monosteel or screwed up the forging then that would have been a fatal fracture. The entire blade would have shattered completely. But because I got everything perfectly, it only cracked the outermost layer without touching the core—bad, but not fatal for a Wysternian Craftknight's weapon."

The Silver Master reached into his smith's apron and pulled out what looked to be some kind of band and a round clip meant to be placed on a shoulder belt. He then tossed them to Welf. "Yer gamblin' paid off this time. I only held back enough ta not break yer arms."

"But… Master, what if you had broken his weapon?" Pratty asked. "There isn't enough time to make a new one, so it did break…"

"Then he woulda lost on a technicality," Bron said simply. "Ah keep sayin' it—I don't work with second-rate smiths. If it couldn't handle that much, it didn't live up ta the standards we set. An' he was the one who asked me ta test it."

"He's right, Pratty." Welf finished attaching the band and then slung the blade over his shoulder to his back. It snapped into place with an audible sound. "This blade has a purpose outside of the match. It needs to be able to live up to that."

Pratty still didn't get it fully, but ultimately let it go and got back in line as Welf joined right beside her. Bron then handed each of them an official notice that came sometime after Breakfast and was addressed to them individually. She opened the envelope and said, "I got someone called Omugi…?"

"Someone named Chaves for me," Welf said, face scrunched up in thought. "Never heard of him."

"Both of those are members of the Gold Guild on the Second Floor," Bron said. "Can't say whether or not ya'll win but do yer best either way. I'll be here waitin' for ya ta get back."

Razzy looked up from the notice in surprise at that. "You're not coming to watch us?"

"No time," he answered, tilting his head back to the main forges before setting a large hand on the child's head and brushing it. "'sides, ya spent the week preparin' an' sharpenin' yer skills outta my eyesight. Ah'm confident yer gonna come back with good news. All of ya. Now, git goin' before ya end up late."

The dismissal led to the apprentices filing out of the Silver Guild. They began their walk along the stone pathways that would lead them into the heart of the City of Swords. Along the way, Pratty was still eyeing the sword that Welf had made. She could see through the cracks of the dark grey steel there was a lighter colored metal beneath it.

Welf spotted her glancing at the damaged blade and gave her a reassuring look. "Don't worry. It'll take an hour at best, but by then it'll be as good as new."

Pratty mulled that over until Kutty landed on top of her head, having decided that flying the entire way wasn't worth the effort. "The design is different compared to your original one. That had a sharper point and thinned a bit as it got to the top. And why'd you mention it wasn't a monosteel?"

She was curious because it was different from how they forged their own weapons. At least the Novice Weapons that she, Trish, and Caizo had. She was pretty sure if her blade had taken a hit like that it would have snapped clean in two.

He pulled the weapon off his back and flipped his grip into reverse so that he could face the edge forward while holding it to the side for her to see. "After getting a feel for how hard the bodies of the pumpkins were and running into that sword trying to kill me, I figured it was pointless to try to stab anything with such a broad blade. Anything small enough could get around it and piercing points work better with thinner and narrower blades in the first place, which tend to be more prone to breaking. So, I decided to shift the profile so that it leveraged the weight to make carving through enemies more effective and expanded the bevel since that determined the cutting power."

"And because the spine runs along the entirety of the blade up to the end where it curves down, it's structurally sounder. You also used a laminate method… but not completely, otherwise it wouldn't have slightly bent under that blow."

Pratty's gaze shifted when she heard Mariel's comment. It was then she noticed the others had gathered around them. They were all listening in and observing the weapon.

"That's right," Welf admitted. "The outer layer is composed of pure Water Ore since that had the most flexibility and durability, so it can handle impacts better. The only time it'll crack like this is if the softer metal compresses in on the harder core. But because it wraps around the spine some of that force gets transferred to the other side rather than going through the Fire Ore core."

Ariel shifted her glasses as she took that into consideration. "And because it's a jacket rather than a layer, that also means it'll cushion the edge somewhat when it hits a harder surface. It won't chip as easily since it'll pass into the softer spine, so it won't wear out as fast."

Pratty's lips pursed as she tried to follow along. "So… basically, instead of combining the ores you instead kept them separate and then put them together like a hotdog in a bun? And because of that it won't break as easily?"

"Yeah, basically." He gestured to the cracks that had already started to shrink ever so slightly. "To make sure it could stand up to another Spell Sword, I needed to test it against something just as hard or harder. That's why I asked Master Bron to take a swing at it."

It clicked when she recalled his entry test into the guild. "Oh, right! All his tools are made of Mystic Ore like your hammer is. Since that comes from them, it only makes sense for him to use one of them to see if it was able to stand up to them."

Welf nodded as he slung the blade back over his shoulder. "With that said, I didn't expect him to do that much damage in a single blow. Yeesh."

"What did you expect asking Master Bron of all people to hit it?" Ariel's tone was both mocking and inquisitive. "Even if he had been holding back, you were basically challenging someone of his abilities to test your blade personally. I thought you were basically just asking for him to withdraw you from the tournament until I saw it was still in one piece."

It was the way she spoke that annoyed Pratty on her friend's behalf. It was like she was saying that he had been stupid doing so. Sure, it did seem a little stupid at first. But after hearing his explanation Pratty at least knew the reason why he wanted to do it.

"That's a bit much. Welf might have expected the hammer to do some damage, but you make it sound as though Master Bron could smash the entire thing in a single blow."

Ariel opened her mouth for a moment to retort. But then she stopped herself as the gears in her head began to turn. Finally, she put her hands on her hips and said, "You don't know, do you?"

Pratty pouted. "Know what?"

"Of course she doesn't." The blunt voice belonged to the red-haired swordswoman who was keeping pace beside them. Her arms were behind her head, and she had one eye open to peer at the other red-headed smith appraisingly. "And I'm guessing you and the kid don't know either considering the looks on your faces?"

Razzy took being addressed as a kid openly about how you would expect. "I'm not a kid! And I know Master Bron is a great Craftknight!"

The sigh that Sanary let out and the way Ariel pressed a hand to her forehead got the point across that there was something they were missing. Pratty turned to her other friends for answers. She saw Caizo pointedly looking away from them, as if he didn't want to be involved. "Trish, do you know what they're mocking us about?"

"Well, we thought you would know considering who your father was, so we never really thought it needed to be brought up…" Trish trailed off for a moment as she pressed her hands together. "Master Bron isn't just a great Craftknight. He was a candidate to become a Craftlord."

Her mouth hung open as she briefly overlayed the image of the burly man standing next to the likes of her father and the men who had been on stage a week ago. Somehow, she found that incredibly hard to believe. "Really?"

"Specifically, he was considered a candidate to become the Craftlord of Amber along with Master Lubert," Mariel chimed in. "For some reason he chose to give up his candidacy, so which one of them was superior was never settled. But everyone recognizes his skill, hence why the Silver Master carries such weight within Wystern and other places that his weapons are shipped like Vance."

Razzy crossed their arms and frowned. "He was always a strict master, but he never told me anything like that."

Welf let out a low hum. "I suppose it makes sense looking at some of his completed pieces."

"Honestly, how did you get into the Silver Guild without having a clue?" Sanary questioned them—or rather, Welf. "Master Bron's standards for apprentices are strict because there are so many people who want the chance to study under him. His friendship with Master Shintetsu means that the clueless girl gets a pass, and the kid is obviously a relative of his. But you pretty much showed up out of nowhere."

"Miss Amariss introduced me to him," he answered plainly.

She recognized the name from how her expression shifted. "…In other words, you're here because Lady Amariss asked him to take you on?"

Her accusative tone was blatant enough that Pratty could tell she was all but saying he only got in because her mother asked him to… which was also true. But that didn't give her the right to be so mean about it. Master Bron had tested Welf with the graduation process and he passed on his own, so he was just as qualified as any of them to be there.

"That's a bit hypocritical coming from you, isn't it?" But before she could speak up in his defense, Ariel did so while wearing a smug expression. "Of all the people complaining about nepotism you are the last one to talk."

The hostility shifted from Welf to the older of the twins. "…You wanna say that again?"

Ariel responded to the attention by drawing up on herself and grinning in a manner that reminded Pratty of a cat. "You act so proud and like you're better than everyone else, but the best you can do is make an Iron Saber on your own. So naturally when someone beats you at something, you get prickly about it. Must be hard when the only reason you're here is because your sister probably asked Master Bron to accept someone with your subpar forging skills."

For the first time Pratty caught the older girl not merely looking annoyed. But she seemed genuinely angry. Her entire body was trembling and one of her hands had already reached for the grip of her sword. "…Take that back. Now."

At the same time, the older of the twin girls had snapped up her protective mana-veil. Her right hand was wrapped around the grip of her drill. She was leaning forward as if getting ready to lunge and strike, meeting the glare with a daring wry grin. "Make me."

"Enough," Welf spoke in a tone that was surprisingly sharp for him as he stood between them with arms out. He then exhaled and changed his tone to one of normalcy. "We're not enemies. Regardless of how we got here, Master Bron has clear standards and already said that he wouldn't be given special treatment just because of any relationships past or current. There's no reason for us to not get along outside of the competition since we're all part of the same Familia—"

He cut himself off abruptly at the strange word. Then his brows deepened in thought as he stopped walking. It was like he had gotten lost in his own world as he looked down at the ground and covered his mouth.

Sanary stared at his pensive expression with one of confusion. Then she let out a heated breath before removing her hand from her weapon. "Whatever. I can deal with her in the arena."

"I'd like to see you—" Ariel cut herself off when her sister set a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. She settled for stomping her foot once and then marching forward, not willing to let Sanary get ahead of her while her sister followed.

That left Razzy to look confused about the sudden hostility and its end. She muttered about talking to her uncle later before shrugging and then running ahead. It was less out of competitiveness and more not wanting to delay getting to the Central Tower.

As for Trish and Caizo, they remained behind with Pratty. She had an inkling about why he was doing it, but she wasn't sure if it was something she should tell others since he hadn't. So, she covered for him by saying, "He's probably just tired from working all this time without a break. I'll get him something sweet and then we'll catch up at the Central Tower. You guys go ahead."

They reluctantly left. Once they were out of earshot, Pratty motioned for Kutty to get off her head since she didn't want him punching Welf for no reason. Then she leaned close and asked, "Did more of your memories come back?"

"…Familia," he answered. "I felt such a strong feeling towards it that I didn't want to risk it slipping away. But I just can't pin down why. It feels really felt important, but I still can't grab hold of why in the end."

"Maybe it's another way of saying family?" Pratty reasoned.

"That's…" He grimaced while his brows furrowed deeper. Then he let out frustrated sigh before standing straight. "Maybe. I'll think on it more later. Sorry for keeping you here worrying about me."

She shook her head. "It's fine. Besides, I got the feeling that if you hadn't stepped in just now things would have gotten bad."

"Well, I suppose I can understand where they're both coming from…" He crossed his arms and looked up towards the rim of the Second Level of Wystern. Since it was a bright day and the sun had yet to reach its apex, the light from it cast a shadow over the other side of the Lower Level. "Hopefully, they'll cool their heads by the time the matches start."

[-|-|-|-]

Sanary's head had not cooled by the time she faced her opponent in the preliminaries.

The arena where the matches would take place was hosted on a circular platform that stood over the rear section of the moat surrounding the Central Tower. Spectator seats were arranged in scaling rows all around it with a massive clockwork gear spinning in the background as it powered some mechanism or other within the building. That allowed a view downward from every angle so that the audience could bear witness to the events that transpired from a safe distance.

Being unable to retaliate for Ariel's earlier mocking had only served to stoke Sanary's temper and she was about to boil over as the words had time to sink in further. She and the twins had never been on good terms given their awful attitudes. But that was a personal attack on her skills as a Craftknight this time.

Fortunately, she had enough self-control that she wasn't going to blow up in front of an audience of attendees. But it did mean she was not going to pull her punches. More so considering her opponent had the misfortune of being a Drillmaster—who she decided to use as a replacement for her anger.

"Craftknight Sanary, will you be summoning your Guardian Beast?" Master Sakuro asked as he stood to the side. He was acting as the referee of the current batch of matches and her opponent had called out their own already.

"I don't need my partner for this one," she said, resting her hand against her sword sheathed on her back. It was a bold claim to be certain, but it was literally the first match of the preliminaries and everybody there was competition. Keeping her Guardian Beast out of the fight was one of the few ways to control the information she gave until it was necessary—and Rasho would probably complain about being called out for the preliminaries.

She was not in the mood to put up with him being cheeky.

"Very well." The Craftlord of Sapphire drew his blade into the air and hoisted it up. "Then, as Craftknights of Wystern, fight with honor and dignity. Let the First Round of the tournament begin!"

Sanary shot forward at her top speed while drawing her blade in a single, smooth motion. She could tell that her opponent hadn't trained in combat much from his stance alone. Better to end it as quickly as possible.

The Drillmaster's response was a stabbing thrust with the spinning point. It was more of a conditioned reaction after spending the week diving into the Labyrinth. Since stray summons tended to attack upon sight it was better to hit as hard and quick as you could without hesitation.

That was his biggest mistake against a trained opponent.

Sanary kicked off the ground and sailed over his head, keeping the blade chambered while leaving his outstretched hand to pierce empty space. No sooner than she landed behind him did she spin on the soles of her boots and swing down the chambered sword. The result was a clean cut straight against his unprotected backside from shoulder to hip.

He stumbled forward, barely avoided falling over. The lingering white streak in his defensive veil showed she had cut a large chunk out before it sealed itself back up. By the time he righted himself and turned around to face Sanary, she was already following up.

The red-haired swordswoman finished reorienting her blade and then unleashed an upwards diagonal cut. It was a reversal of the previous slash but had enough force behind it this time that he tumbled over. The only reason she didn't finish the three-hit combo while was laid out on his back was because his entire body flashed as his mana-veil hardened in response to the abrupt and accumulative damage.

Trying to cut through it was pointless due to how hard it was. Attempting to do so would only damage her blade. Not to mention it could be seen as a lack of self-control since piercing it would mean attempting to kill rather than subdue.

So Sanary twisted on her soles again and faced the Spirit that had been floating next to him. It was his Guardian Beast and had a body that was round like a balloon and its lips were pulled back to reveal sharp teeth. She could smell the ozone from an impending lightning strike and knew she had to deal with it.

"Get lost!" She put as much strength as she could into her arms as she brought the overhead chambered blade down upon it. Instead of cutting through it, something made a lot harder than you would expect due to being bound to a Summonite Gem, the Spirit was spiked into the platform. Her red eyes watched its body contorted as it flattened out against the solid surface of unmoving stone before springing back into the air even higher in a rolling tumble. Then she turned her attention back to the Drillmaster that had gotten back onto his feet.

Fear took hold in his eyes as he saw her rushing him down once more. He thrust right for her head, only to have his arm jerked down as she pivoted out of the way and slammed the sharpened edge of the sword onto his outstretched arm. He didn't lose the limb, though from the pained expression he made it was easy to tell that he was feeling the bleed-through, but he did end up having his upper body jerked forward.

That gave her a clean shot at his unprotected head and Sanary took it.

"GAH!" A very short-lived cry of pain was followed by the hearty sound of a body hitting the ground again. The light shrouding his body quickly dissipated into the air like dust being scattered in the wind, showing he was tapped out of mana to keep his defenses up. Not that was conscious enough to actively try.

She exhaled before turning to Master Sakuro, stationed to the side with his sword resting against his palm and the point against the ground. The Craftlord observed her fallen foe until it was clear he was unable to battle further. Then he declared her the victor and she felt a lot better.

She walked up the stairs and off the platform as a set of Central Tower Officials came to haul her unconscious opponent away.

[-|-|-|-]

The match that had followed Sanary's had been an actual battle between equal apprentices.

Trish had managed to defeat her opponent, but it was a narrow thing. The purple-haired spear-user had only won because of the reach of her weapon and the fact that her Guardian Beasts could replenish her mana, so she took a lot more effort to make yield compared to Sanary's opponent. She essentially won a battle of attrition in the end.

Then it was Welf's turn to take the stage for the Third Round.

The first thing he noticed when he set foot on the platform was that his opponent was a very large person. To the point where he overshadowed the stairs leading to his side of the Central Tower from Welf's position at the opposite edge. Sure, it might have been a trick based on depth perception, but for him to probably be around the same age as Welf he was as large as Master Bron.

He was dressed in a green leather jacket and pants, flame retardant but still having black marks from sparks dancing across the surface. Steel-toed boots supported his bulk, he wore a crossed harness strap that stretched around his broad frame, a thick pair of brown gloves were around his hands, and metal plates were affixed to his shoulders. His face was also nearly completely hidden, the lower half covered by a high collar to hide his mouth and his eyes covered by a pair of steel-grey goggles, while his light brown hair stuck out with a pointed pompadour that cast a shadow.

Retaining his role as the referee, the Craftlord of Sapphire gave them both an appraising glance before he decreed, "We will now commence the Third Round of the tournament. Craftknight Welf, Craftknight Chaves, please call out your Guardian Beasts if you intend to use them."

Welf reached for the Summonite Gem around his neck and felt the flame sleeping within it. The Fire Spirit had been tired given that she had worked late into the night so that they could finish, so he opted not to wake her from her slumber until necessary. Now was the time. "Urus."

Red flames rolled free of the gem and then bathed his upper body before slowly pulling away. Her figure formed over his shoulders, body twisting slowly as she spanned her incandescent gaze over the backdrop of the arena—from the crowd in the seats to the clockwork gear slowly churning. She then leaned over him with her arms wrapped around his neck and turned her focus onto the enemy in front of them as Welf pulled free his greatsword.

"I don't need a beast to handle this guy," Chaves said, declining to summon his own Guardian Beast as he pulled from his back what was probably the largest sword that Welf had the experience of seeing. And he was factoring in what may or may not have been within his missing memories. If Welf's blade was a large greatsword then his was a colossal sword that was more than twice the width and thickness.

In the hands of someone at an ordinary height it would be oversized to a degree of impracticality. But Chaves himself had taken advantage of his large stature to wield the large grey blade. It was almost as wide as the guy himself and nearly matched the height of his upper body.

Sharpening that must have been a nightmare, Welf couldn't help but think as he took in its profile and width. But then he felt a question from Urus brushing his mind, concern about having to fight something that large with the blade they just made. He was quick to reassure her it would be fine. "Don't worry, I have an idea on how to deal with it."

Seeing as Chaves had chosen not to summon his own companion and Urus had seemingly settled into place, Sakuro asked, "Are you both ready?"

"Yes," Chaves answered.

Welf nodded. "We're ready."

Sakuro drew his own blade and held it aloft in the air. "Then, as Craftknights of Wystern, fight with honor and dignity. Let the Third Round of the tournament begin!"

Welf rushed straight towards the mass of muscles at the signal.

And in response Chaves' Sword came down with the intention to split him in half. It was a standard overhead chop. Taking advantage of the mass of the blade to deliver a crushing blow, the huge but otherwise plain sword would end the match as quickly as it began.

Urus' flames fanned wildly from her perch as the blade narrowly avoided her when Welf took a slight shift to the right with his leading foot. The impact of the steel smashing into the ground a hair's breadth ran up their bodies and served as a testament to its weight. But with the blade down, there was an opening for them to exploit.

Welf stepped forward and readied to swing his sword at the mass of muscles in front of him. But then his eyes spotted the twist of Chaves' wrists that shifted the blade from vertical to diagonal, putting the edge facing towards him. He changed his intentions from an overhead swing to a parry as he twisted his body while bringing it up from below.

Steel screeched. The scoop that was meant to cut from the waist to the underarm scraped its way along the rising edge. The stray smith put his back into it as he raised it up, leaving it to go over his head as Urus clung to his back.

The click of a tongue could be heard before Chaves reoriented the blade with his wrists so that it was horizontal and then swung once more. It was a decapitating strike meant to take off the head, but it sailed high the moment Welf ducked down.

There it is! Welf's muscles tensed as he took advantage of the opening as his opponent's arms went wide to the right due to the excess momentum. He swung his sword with all his might at the exposed underbelly and drew a streak as the edge ripped into the protective veil of his opponent, sheering away a portion of it.

The mountain of muscle was moved. Chaves took a step back reflexively in response before his rear leg braced itself to stand firm. He then repositioned the blade into a guard as the greatsword came around for a second swing that would cut him from shoulder to hip.

Steel screeched again. The broad side of the thick metal barely shifted on the impact as the thin edge carved a small groove into it in passing. Chaves then thrust it out just like that, shoving as hard as he could into the smaller frame of his opponent.

A surprised sound slipped out as Welf was sent staggering back, thrown off-balance by being bashed against the flat of the blade. He would have stumbled over if not for Urus, who slipped behind him and then pushed him forward. She acted as an anchor to keep him upright, which was what allowed him to react in time as Chaves went back on the offense.

The sharpened tip of the colossal sword shot forward to gouge out his heart. The stab went off to the side as Welf slammed his blade's edge into it, giving him just a bit of breathing room. But it was short-lived as Chaves twisted his body and blade—batting at the stray smith from the side.

Welf braced and raised his blade from the spine, catching the edge and letting slide. It went over his head once more and left Chaves open a second time. He thrust his own blade straight between his opponent's eyes as he called out. "Turn up the heat, Urus!"

The giant stumbled back while flailing the colossal sword in the process. They were wild swings meant to give him space if Welf decided to press his advantage while he regained his footing. But they were too high if anything, as they obscured his vision enough that he only noticed the Fire Spirit drifting closer once she was just before his waist.

That was when red light shone from the Summonite Gem around Welf's neck and Chaves only had enough time to use his blade as a shield before a pillar of fire erupted right in front of him. The Fire Spirit let her flames swell with such ferocity that the massive blade between her and him turned from dark-grey to bright-red from the heat sinking in. He chose to back off to escape the pressure and flames and that gave Welf the time he needed.

"Now, Enchant Flame!" He brandished his blade into the air as the gem shone even brighter and Urus' flames propelled the Fire Spirit back so that she could embrace it. She shared her flames, leaving the greatsword to bathe in them. The steel drank deep until its color turned a burning red hue even as she released her grasp and clung once more to her master's back.

Chaves' googles reflected the burning blade as Welf charged forward with the weapon chambered to swing. He opted to let loose with a diagonal slash meant to cut him down before he could get in range to meet his flesh with the flaming blade.

The colossal sword slammed into the ground instead as Welf had stopped short of the range to slash at his opponent's massive frame, instead choosing to drive the flaming blade into the spine of his opponent's weapon. It left a burning crescent tail to fill the space between them as Welf twisted his entire body to follow the momentum of the previous swing. That brought it around again. "I'm not done yet!"

Chaves raised his sword into a guard with the flat forward. The dense steel absorbed the hit, leaving his arms to buckle as the impact caused the magic from the enchantment to flare up. The giant could feel the fire licking at him from around the wall of metal even through his flame-retardant work clothes as Welf kept up the attack with another three hits before he tried to shove him again for some breathing room.

This time Welf saw it coming and pushed back. He braced his own blade with his forearm since he knew Urus' flames wouldn't harm her master after all. Their blades remained locked as the fire continued to burn between them.

"BACK OFF!" Chaves' voice came out as a growl as he shoved harder to break the lock. He had no intention of being left on the backfoot just because his opponent had set their blade ablaze. So, he decided to end it now with a merciless overhead swing. "I'LL CRUSH YOU!"

Welf chose not to avoid the crushing blow meant to end the match. Instead, he braced the flaming sword and angled the edge before driving it forward. The blazing edge met with the thicker one closer to the guard—

SNAP!

—and the sound of metal snapping and heavy steel hitting stone seemed to cut off all other sounds as Welf, who had been staggering to the side and nearly lost his balance a second time until Urus steadied him. He let out a heavy breath as the flames wreathing his weapon died out and then said, "…Sorry, but you didn't leave me many options."

The apology received no answer from Chaves, who stood there with his arms held outwards at their full length. If anyone could see his eyes from behind his goggles, they would have caught sight of them staring wide and unbelieving. It wasn't every day that one had their weapon reduced to a quarter of its original length with the remaining end slowly dulling in hue from yellow to cooler colors.

Welf had determined that trying to get through Chaves' guard to strike him down would be too tedious in their first exchange. He could do it, but Chaves was competent enough that there was a chance they could trade hits. Welf was certain if that was the case then he would have likely been the one to come out worse due to the differences in their blades weight and size.

So, rather than dragging it out, he decided it would be simpler to break his opponent's weapon by taking advantage of its size and construction. The coloration and lack of flexibility only confirmed his suspicions that the weapon was a monosteel alloy rather than a laminate wielded together like his own. That meant it had the same fatal flaw that he had explained to Pratty earlier—that a single fatal weakness would be enough to break it.

In this case it was having the metal softening due to being exposed to such hot temperatures while striking at it. Urus use of Burst Flare had been meant to get the metal hot enough to get started and then by constantly using his enchanted sword to keep the heat on, he struck and carved into each time while letting other parts of it cool off. That made certain parts far weaker than the others until he made his final move by positioning his still burning blade to act as a wedge beneath the point of balance, which was higher up since the blade was so large it was more top heavy.

In the end, it basically snapped beneath its own weight.

Of course, if not for the jacket to support the shock it would have snapped my own blade in half as well. He looked down to the edge to see it had cracked along the exposed area due to the hardness of it. But it didn't go much further than that and so it would be able to repair itself in time.

"The match has been decided." The voice of the Craftlord of Sapphire sliced through the resulting silence of the first of what would be many shattered blades in the tournament. "The victor of the Third Round is Craftknight Welf."

"Looks like we did it, Urus." He smiled as he brushed the top of her head, fingers weaving through the passive flames. "Your timing was excellent."

The ghost of a smile could be felt gracing her expressionless face at the praise and affectionate gesture.

"…NO CONTEST!"

That was when a strained half-growl rang out from the massive frame of Chaves. He seemed to regain his senses now that the shock had worn off. Instead, it was replaced by anger as he gripped his broken weapon tight enough that the gloves could be heard straining as he marched towards the pair and called for neither victory nor defeat to be claimed by either of them.

"IT WASN'T THE QUALITY OF HIS WEAPON OR HIS SKILL WITH IT THAT LET HIM WIN! IT WAS BECAUSE OF HIS GUARDIAN BEAST ALONE! NO CONTEST! NO CONTEST!"

"Have you forgotten the three tenets of the Craftknighthood, Craftknight Chaves?"

Chaves took a step back at the stern voice of the Craftlord of Sapphire responded to the calls for no contest with a question instead. "N-No… it's him who relied only on his Guardian Beast to secure his victory."

"If that were the case, I would have called the match otherwise," Sakuro said plainly. "As it stands, you have lost this match fairly. Reflect on the tenets and you will understand why. Now, both of you please leave the stage so we may prepare for the next match."

Chaves turned his gaze from the Craftlord of Sapphire towards Welf, carrying an unspoken message from behind the googles that this wasn't over. Then he turned around and lumbered towards the stairs from which he had descended earlier. Welf kept his thoughts of someone being a sore loser to himself as he gestured for Urus to take her usual place before they took the opposite stairs themselves.

That left only the Craftlord himself, who brushed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses before announcing, "The Fourth Round will begin shortly. Will Craftknight Pratty and Craftknight Omugi please come to the stage?"