Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

His hideous face, disfigured by dark necrotic blotches, pockmarks, and wound seeping with pus, was reflected in the small orb he was holding as close to his face as he could, so he didn't have to recognize his own reflection.

“So they finally announced it to the world...” he mumbled. His chapped lips broke, and a small stream of blood flowed down his chin, which was covered in a scraggly, unkempt beard.

In the crystal sphere, it showed a recording of the Tower Master's Speech and the ensuing Q&A. He saw the crowd of members of Minas Mar in the background and felt his chest tighten when he thought about them. He had failed to be there when they really needed him.

~ Stop sulking like this. Your precious Tower Master said that he would call you if you were needed. ~ Sol'Fiam, the ugly sun, reminded him with a scoff. This made Ray feel even worse, Seth didn't even ask him for help... was he already forgotten?

After becoming the saint of the god of magic and curses, Sol'Fiam had him run all around the continent, searching for dungeons and sources of dark power and miasma to absorb. His appearance had sharply deteriorated, as his, and the god's power kept growing.

By the time he finally heard the news of what happened surrounding Y-City, all of it was already over. Now he was plagued with guilt, on top of the insecurities concerning the change in his appearance.

He had left without saying anything. Although he trusted Seth, what would the others say, if he returned now? He wasn't there in the time of their need, selfishly following the quests of Sol'Fiam. Would they even recognize him and accept him back as a member of Minas Mar? This wasn't about his ugly appearance as the Saint of Sol'Fiam, but he felt that he betrayed their trust.

~Gosh, you can just say you didn't dare to return with your hideous face or something. They will understand.~

The sunken figure jumped up, revealing a massive build, covered by the dirty rags reeking of sweat, blood, and other uncomfortable substances.

“What are you even saying? What kind of weak excuse is that? Saying something like this would more likely offend them, than anything. They wouldn't make a fuzz about me looking like a half-rotten bodybuilder, but your dumb excuse would make it seem like I didn't trust them!” Ray lashed out. Sol'Fiam simply didn't understand the people of Minas Mar.

~You didn't go, because you were not contacted. How is it your fault?~

“Are you telling me to tell them, that it's Seth's fault for not asking for help, that I didn't come? That's an even weaker excuse than the last one,” Ray mumbled aggravated.

~B-But it's true, isn't it?~

“...Sure, but it wouldn't help me explain anything...”

~Ugh, if you don't like any of my suggestions, why don't you just trust your great Tower Master, huh? After all, I'm just your god, he's your boss. All of your worries are completely senseless as long as he gives everyone a good explanation.~

Listening to the revelation of his god, this time some of his doubts were actually cleared up. Sol'Fiam was right, Ray needed to have faith. Faith in Seth. He needed to trust the Tower Master that he would clear up the misunderstanding.

It wasn't the time to worry about his return. He needed to work hard, so he would be able to return in the first place. He had to continue and gather strength, for himself and his god, so that Sol'Fiam would be able to bless a material and Ray could return to Seth to gain a holy weapon.

“I have rested enough. What is the next place, Sol'Fiam?”

~...Are you serious? Did you seriously just resolve to believe in your boss, more than in your god?~ the ugly Sun asked incredulously. What kind of saint did he attach to...?

“Well, one of them has proven to be a lot more reliable, than the other,” he poked at the god's use during their journey so far, which was barely a bit better than being a compass for evil energy.

~Fine! Do you want reliability? I can sense for more strong sources of dark power in the closer vicinity. If we successfully manage to absorb those, we can start looking for the seed material, I will bless. Then we can make a trip back to your awesome boss and ask him to make a holy armament for you. Happy?~ the god exclaimed indignantly.

“Happier than you might expect,”, Ray answered with a smile. “Okay, what's the closest one?”

~...~

…

---Chrona, Chrona Empire---

Prince Hardwig of Chrona was also looking at a small orb. It was one of a special pair of orbs that were able to transmit messages across the Pathworks. The small orb, whose other half he had given to Leana, had suddenly turned on and broadcast the scene of the announcement.

The little blacksmith had actually reached the point of being able to make legendary equipment, but Leana even allowed him to go public with it. Was his little sister bragging about his possible brother-in-law? Or had she a less innocent reason to let him know about this?

After listening to the whole press conference, Hardwig mused about the tournament they had announced. Did his little sister tell him to take part? Although Chrona was not hurting for legendary items, it wasn't like one could have too many. Maybe she also meant to help them spread the news?

From the reports, it was highly possible that most of the members of Minas Mar had stepped on the Path of Legends. They would now begin to spread their name and gather fame. There was a lot he could do for them, as the prince of Chrona.

No matter what, the clearest message was to prepare. He wouldn't be the only one to get this message. Not just external forces that may decide to intervene, but Hardwig's and Leana also had to be mindful of their political enemies, if they wanted to help Minas Mar and prosper together. Although his sister was not part in the contest for the throne, Hardwig was.

Fostering a good relationship to a source of legendary equipment, was almost as good of an achievement, as scouting someone like Seth. So maybe, this was actually a gift from his cutest little sister?

Putting aside what he was working on, Hardwig left his office. There was a lot of stuff to take care of.

…

---Spatia, Durnham Duchy--

“It's actually him...” the girl mumbled as she looked at the recording one of their subordinates had brought them.

The girl was Natina Durnham, the Champion of Kali, heiress to the Durnham family of Spatia. She instantly recognized the face of the man, who had forced her to do shameful acts with his demonic voice.

She had managed to gain a lot from infiltrating the Evaluation of Chrona. Especially he corpse of an ancient dragon that was almost at the legendary realm had helped her family prosper once again, in the Society of Spatia.

Although she had broken many rules and revealed her origins, Spatia was a place were strength made right. Had she failed, she and her whole family may have been beheaded, but she had brought an absolute powerhouse, which lead to them being promoted to a Duchy.

Since then, she had even managed to nurture the undead dragon with her growing skills to the point it reentered the legendary realm, giving her one of the highest standings in Spatia, without being a legend herself.

However, despite rising so high, despite gaining so much, there was one smudge on her great narrative, the man that had pushed her back. Even with her new authority, she had a hard time finding out who and where he was. It was hard to the point, she suspected other forces in Spatia had actively hidden his identity and whereabouts from her.

But nobody was able to hide this from her. She had finally found him!