The Tournament and the Brass Fortress

"Boom!" A pillar of fire soared into the sky. Raging tongues of flame swept across the arena, reducing the opposing player on the field to ash. A woman with slender dragon horns and golden, slit-pupil eyes gave a gentle wave of her hand, and the flames vanished into nothingness. She turned around, bowed slightly, and offered a curtsey of acknowledgment toward the stands. The commentator's voice rang out with impassioned fervor. "Another hearty, exhilarating match—an absolute crushing victory!" "Let us congratulate contestant Xiaye Qiuyu on winning this match!" The audience erupted into roaring cheers. Fanatical fans hoisted LED support signs, waving them incessantly. "Qiuyu, my beloved waifu!" "Ahhh, I love her so much!" "Qiuyu is amazing! Gorgeous and badass! I'm completely smitten!" "She's my wife, so of course she's extraordinary." "Xiaye Qiuyu is your wife? Stand back, my piss is yellow—let me piss on this brother to wake him up!" "Dammit, she's clearly my wife!" ... "Greetings, esteemed spectators and contestants!" "Today is the third day of the preliminary rounds. As you can see, everyone's enthusiasm remains sky-high. The contestants in this round are exceptionally distinguished as well; they are..." The commentators' voices echoed across the competitive arena. The preliminaries were in full, blazing swing. Most of the formidable celebrity players advanced with undefeated streaks, while quite a few dark horses emerged from the masses. Several iconic moments had already been born: Yuye Chengchi summoning the "Undead Starter Trio" to gang up on an opponent; Tiansheng Zhankuang cleaving a max-level paladin, shield and all, clean in two with a single swing; Charlotte executing a textbook spell counterattack... Still, with nearly one hundred thousand participants in this tournament, one hundred and fifty-four local divisions had to hold matches over twelve days. On average, each arena had to host fifty matches a day. Those contestants who secured early advancement naturally began preparing for the knockout stages. Dossiers on professional players were already fetching exorbitant prices on the black market. Yet as a highly watched "pro player," Mantou was fretting over his weapon. Having won three matches in a row, he had already secured his qualification in advance, freeing him from worry over a spot in the knockout stage. In his second match yesterday, however, he had suffered a "suicide attack" from an artificer player. The guy had charged at him clutching a body full of electromagnetic bombs, nearly blowing Mantou out of the sky on the spot. Fortunately, Noodles had reacted with blinding speed, whipping around in midair to carry him out of the blast radius. Though Mantou escaped unharmed, the relatively rare-quality Redscale standard lance that had accompanied him for so long was destroyed in the fight, paining him to his core. Consequently, he sought out a Machine Cult player, hoping to buy some gear from them. "You want to buy a cold weapon?" Zhandi Lunyiren's tone sounded utterly baffled. "Wouldn't buying a semi-automatic rifle be way sweeter? I have knock-off M1 Garand rifles here, plus lightning element projectors..." "No way. You just don't understand the romance of a lance charge!" Zhandi Lunyiren felt a bit disappointed, though he still remarked, "When it comes to cold weapons, what the Machine Cult produces isn't the highest quality." "By the way, if you want to get your hands on cold weapons, let me recommend a place: the Brass Fortress." "The cold weapons forged by the fire dwarves there are the absolute best. They've even turned out artifacts of Very Rare quality." "Oh?" Hearing the words "Very Rare," Mantou—who had never once pulled anything good from loot boxes—brightened instantly. "Where is this Brass Fortress you're talking about?" "The Elemental Plane of Fire." ... A day later. The Elemental Plane of Fire, Brass Fortress, outside the Imperial Agency. "So many people." Holding the freshly issued travel permit for the Elemental Plane of Fire, Mantou gazed at the bustling crowds and watched the busy fire dwarves, a delighted expression on his face. At the center of the city stood a towering, majestic statue of the dwarven deity. The small cottages cast from brass were remarkably exquisite, and the rhythmic clanging of smithing echoed everywhere. Further in the distance stood factories billowing steam, evidently newly built and carrying a distinctive imperial flair. *Is this the place where divine artifacts are forged?* It matched his imagination perfectly. "Still, these fire dwarves look so similar, like they were carved from the same mold." Mantou spotted a blacksmith shop just ahead, bearing a sign that read "Gino's Weapon Workshop." Several exquisite pieces of gear were displayed on the weapon racks, and every single one was a "rare"-grade weapon, including his favorite long lance. "Let's check this place out first." Mantou pushed open the door and entered the workshop. A fire dwarf appeared before him, causing his eyes to go wide and his jaw to nearly hit the floor. "Holy crap?" "Anime?" His shock was hardly unwarranted. The fire dwarf before him bore no resemblance whatsoever to the stereotypical stocky, full-bearded dwarf. Instead, the figure looked adorable. With a round face, huge eyes, delicate features, and a tiny, slender frame, the dwarf wore a frilly little skirt cast from brass, complete with a brass bow on the back and brass twin pigtails. *You call this a dwarf?!* *The legendary bronze-cast fire spirit?!* *This is clearly a bronze-cast loli!* Before long, however, the diminutive fire dwarf spoke in a gruff, booming voice entirely at odds with the cute appearance, crackling like roaring flames: "Are you... a Starfallen?" Gino's expression instantly turned furious. Yet when such wrath appeared on that dainty face, it looked more like peculiar petulance. "Are you going to ask why I look like this too?" Mantou desperately suppressed his laughter and nodded. Gino roared, "It's all you Starfallen's fault!" "Some damned bastard swapped out the molds in the fire dwarf foundry just to satisfy his own filthy desires, making me turn out like this! I don't have the robust body of other fire dwarves, nor do I have their handsome full beards. I've been mocked by other fire dwarves ever since I was born!" "He even said I had the cutest appearance—that rotten scoundrel, I want nothing more than to smash his skull flat with a bronze hammer!" "By Moradin, it's all because of you Starfallen that I became the scrawniest, ugliest fire dwarf in a hundred years!" "Pfft..." Mantou couldn't hold back a burst of laughter. "What are you laughing at!" A loli dwarf speaking in a gruff, baritone voice—it was virtually impossible not to laugh at such a spectacle. After venting his spleen, Gino crossed his slender arms and grumped, "Starfallen, what did you come here for anyway?" Mantou said, "My weapon broke. I want to forge a new lance." Gino gave a cold huff, turning his sullen face aside to deliberately look away. "Go find somewhere else. Starfallen aren't welcome here, and I don't serve your kind." Mantou didn't feel insulted in the slightest; he was still stifling a laugh. *What kind of fire dwarf tsundere loli is this?* *This is fantastic video material.* Forging a weapon while getting content for a video—killing two birds with one stone. Truth be told, that weeb from the Machine Cult had truly pulled an outrageous stunt, swapping the molds and treating the casting of fire dwarves like manufacturing anime figurines. With that thought, Mantou wiped the grin off his face and said solemnly, "Although we're both Starfallen, I'm not him." "Taking out your anger on me because of his misdeed isn't fair. Do you really want word getting around that Gino is a petty fire dwarf?" Gino lowered his head, twiddling his fingers nervously. After a long silence, he mumbled softly, "What you said... kind of makes sense." "I'm sorry..." Gino's voice was as faint as the buzzing of a mosquito. Fire dwarves were an honest, upright race. They adhered to rules, rarely lied, and were quick to acknowledge their mistakes. "That's the spirit!" "Making mistakes is fine, as long as you're brave enough to admit them and actively make amends," Mantou said with a smile. He looked at the little fire dwarf, his tone turning impassioned. "Gino, since you were born this way and your appearance can't be changed, why not focus on bettering your inner self?" "A life is never defined by looks." Mantou's eyes shone brightly as he gave the pint-sized fire dwarf an earnest pat on the shoulder. "Whether an appearance is pretty or ugly doesn't matter; the goodness in your heart is what counts most! Looking like this only means you need to work harder to reinvent yourself!" He raised his arm and pointed into the distance, his voice ringing with conviction. "I believe that as long as you work diligently and treat others kindly, even without a brawny body, you can still become a great fire dwarf!" "I... you..." "You—you're right!" Gino clenched his tiny fists. Having never tasted chicken soup for the soul before, the innocent fire dwarf was clearly deeply moved. Had he not been an elemental creature incapable of shedding liquid tears, his eyes would likely have brimmed with them. "Mr. Mantou, you're not like them. You're a good Starfallen." "I'll forge the best equipment for you right now! I'll let everyone know that I, Gino, can become a great fire dwarf too!" "Awesome!" Mantou nodded with a grin. Fantastic! Two birds with one stone! He was getting his weapon made and bagging fresh video content at the same time—pure bliss! Suddenly, he felt a tug at his clothes. The petite fire dwarf spoke with slight bashfulness: "I feel like what you said makes a lot of sense." "Would you be interested... in meeting my friends? They'd probably be very happy to forge gear for you too." "Of course." Mantou turned around and was instantly dumbfounded. Several fire dwarves with utterly absurd appearances were walking toward him. One looked like a robotic cat, another looked like an overdone Korean plastic surgery model, another had been molded into Ultraman, and there was even a Transformer. The sheer variety of styles made Mantou wonder if he had logged into the wrong game. *Just which diabolical genius pulled this off?!* *What an absolute menace!* *And this guy's tastes were suspiciously broad, too.* "They're all victims of that bastard Starfallen," Gino explained. "Because of how they look, they couldn't fit into fire dwarf society either." "Holy crap, this is wild..." Mantou couldn't help muttering. He held out a hand. "Wait—" "Hmm?" The loli fire dwarf, who was just about to head off to forge gear, turned back with a curious look. "Would you guys be interested in branching out into a new business? Like guided tours and paid photo-ops for the Starfallen?" ... A few days later, Mantou appeared in the spectator stands of Division 1 in high spirits, decked out in brand-new gear. Singo looked at his armor and the cold glint of his lance, sounding a little stunned: "Did you rob a bank?" "What do you mean, rob a bank? My friends forged this specially for me!" "What kind of friends do you have who can forge rare-quality gear? There isn't much magic attached, but the base stats are through the roof." Mantou pondered for a moment before answering earnestly, "A little loli, a robotic cat, a plastic surgery face, a Transformer, Hatsune Miku..." Singo: "..." Mantou chuckled. "Don't sweat the details. Weren't we here to watch the matches?" "Isn't today Brother Zhankuang's round?" Singo said calmly, "Not just Tiansheng Zhankuang. Several pro players are having their final preliminary matches today too. It's a good chance to gauge their level." "What about Sister Qiuyu?" "She has too many fans over in the stands. If she showed up, it would turn into an autograph session. I'll send her the recording later." "Impressive." Mantou couldn't help giving a thumbs-up. Singo continued, "Unfortunately, none of the pro players seem to have revealed their trump cards yet." "Too many people registered for the preliminaries, so pros rarely run into each other. Most of their matches are total stomps, so you can't tell much." "Especially those pro wizard players. Take Charlotte, for example—he's been spamming Fireball non-stop, so there's no way to figure out his spell list." Mantou folded his arms and drawled lazily, "Sing-dog, you're still way too cautious. I never care about my opponents' situation." "Take things as they come; the main principle is fearing no one!" Singo shot him a sidelong glance and said coldly, "When you get your teeth knocked out later, don't go crying to the referee, regretting how you acted." The referee's voice rang out. "Number 12533, Tiansheng Zhankuang!" "Glory belongs to Tiansheng Zhankuang!" "Tiansheng Zhankuang, chop down everything!" A wave of thunderous cheers instantly erupted from the stands. Tiansheng Zhankuang was an established veteran pro who had made a name for himself across multiple games, and he boasted his own fan club in Elezerg as well. "Brother Zhankuang is here!" Mantou grew excited as well. Compared to being chased around by explosions on the field, he far preferred watching others fight from the audience. "Number 23335, Heiye Shipian!" Hearing that name, the stands boiled over once again, though this time it was not cheering, but public outrage. The players who had been pickpocketed by him were practically seething, wishing they could jump onto the stage themselves to administer justice. "Holy crap! Hei-beast!" "Good, good, good!" "From this moment on, I'm a Brother Zhankuang fan!" "Brother Zhankuang, chop off that head full of wicked schemes!" Soon, prompted by the referee, the bare-chested Tiansheng Zhankuang and the black-robed Heiye Shipian both stepped into the arena. Up in the stands, Singo commented mildly, "Now this is getting interesting. I've looked into Heiye Shipian. He might be scum, but his abilities in certain areas are quite formidable." Mantou grew curious. "Does that mean... Brother Zhankuang is at risk of losing?" "Of course not. Keep watching, and you'll see in a moment." The referee's command reverberated through Division 1's venue. "Match begin!" Heiye Shipian was a Level 8 rogue player who had chosen the Thief subclass. In his previous two matches, he had used Fog Cloud along with his high Dexterity and Fast Hands proficiency to run circles around his opponents, even stripping them clean of their gear. At that moment, Heiye Shipian peered at Tiansheng Zhankuang in the distance. *This guy... is a bit tricky.* *Still, a top-tier god like him must have plenty of good gear on him.* *Whatever. Muddy the waters first, then fish in the chaos!* He lobbed a smoke bomb forward, blanketing the arena in thick smoke that obscured all line of sight. "Hei-beast deserves to die!" "Damn it, I can't see anything!" "Dammit, typical Hei-beast, sabotaging the match!" Suddenly, a roar tore out from the smoke. "Aaaaargh!" A tremendous wave of force erupted outward with Tiansheng Zhankuang at its epicenter, scattering all the smoke and blasting away Heiye Shipian, who had just reached out to touch him. Heiye Shipian stared at his empty hands in stunned disbelief. "What?" "He—he didn't bring any gear!" "All he has is that axe!" "No matter, I still have tricks!" Smoke bombs, sonic flashbangs, disruption arrows, poison vials, and scrolls of Charm Person were hauled out from Heiye Shipian's robes in rapid succession, raining down on Tiansheng Zhankuang. The barrage of insidious, vicious status effects was enough to make anyone's skin crawl. What he had failed to anticipate, however, was that as a high-level berserker, Tiansheng Zhankuang possessed the "Mindless Rage" path feature, rendering him virtually immune to all forms of crowd control while raging. Under his beast-like combat instincts, the enemy had nowhere to hide! "Die!" With crimson eyes, Tiansheng Zhankuang hoisted his battleaxe, letting loose a frenzied battle roar as he brought it crashing down with venomous force. "Boom!" Blood splattered, drenching the black robe. The blow carried such overwhelming force that even the ground split open. "Hell yeah, battle!" Cheers more deafening than ever erupted from the stands—not just celebrating Tiansheng Zhankuang's sheer might, but rejoicing over someone's gruesome demise.