Planet Dazeth.
The heavy banging of metal against metal resonated through the air. There was a particularly rhythmic cadence to it, one that matched the breath of a behemoth of a man swinging four hammers at once.
While the entire galaxy seemed to be crumbling, Thalrik was busy in his forge. He didn’t even particularly like to craft, but there was something about forcing metals that refused to twist in the hands of others into submission that made him practically purr on the inside.
Every time he swung a hammer, he imagined an opponent—and yet, rather than being a seething mass of destruction, there was something oddly… beautiful about his movements.
Despite his four arms moving in unison, each one hitting the same exact location again and again, leaving blurs in the air, there wasn’t the slightest hitch or interference between them at all.
Maybe if he had been going slowly, this wouldn’t be much of a feat. But the speed he moved with left howling winds in the air that played like the chimes of a flute, each concentrated pulse of wind being pulled through the anchor holes in his weapons.
It was nothing short of beautiful, as a harmony played out through the steaming air.
Until he was suddenly interrupted.
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
The tranquility of the red giant vanished, and he bared his teeth, canines flashing with what almost looked like blood as he turned. Even though the one who interfered with him was a D-Grade Elder, he still maintained the same level of fury, remaining mere moments away from attacking him with everything he had.
“Something has happened.”
The elder waved away the aura coming from Thalrik.
“What? Did we find him? Can I go bash his head in now?” Thalrik asked coldly.
“The situation has changed. Follow me.”
Thalrik watched as the elder turned away, shook his head, and threw his hammers with such force they blew the roof off, all before finally following after him.
…
“What? You’re saying that I get to just fight them one-on-one? This is perfect!”
Thalrik’s eyes blazed with light, but he didn’t seem to catch the uneasiness of his elders. Well, what “seemed” to be the case and the truth were two completely different things.
“Thalrik.”
A gruff voice stopped Thalrik’s tirade in its tracks. A behemoth that must have been at least five or six meters tall sat on a throne, thick bands of gold wrapping around his four bulging biceps. He leaned his large face on two fists, looking toward his son with a very unamused light.
“For once, drop the act. I’ve grown tired of it.”
Thalrik looked toward his father, frowning for a moment and then shaking his head.
“The details don’t matter.”
“They do,” Patriarch Dazeth said coldly. “This time, our hand is being forced by the Petals of the Seeing Thorn. What do you think that means?”
“Sylas Grimblade’s True Chosen mark ended up in their hands? So what. Soryntha is an ant.”
“I said I’ve grown tired.”
Thalrik rolled his eyes, and his demeanor changed just the slightest bit again.
“They had a plan to make her stronger, I get it. But what I really want to know is what you useless old bastards got up to that you got yourselves fucked over like this?”
“… We’ve tried many things to get rid of the Thryskai over the years.”
“Yeah? And none of them have worked, apparently.”
A few old men coughed lightly and turned away.
Despite how things looked and the backing of the Thryskai, the Trakar actually had a very clear advantage should things continue to play out like this. They were the last that would want things to end up in a one-on-one-on-one battle like this, but since they had accepted, it could only mean that the dirt the Petals of the Seeing Thorn had was quite good.
“You will take this seriously and display the might of your true self this time. It’s no longer time for games. We must win this.”
“I will,” Thalrik shrugged. “Zoryx is a joke who only knows how to scheme and play around like a little schoolgirl. He has a pretty smile and is nice to everyone, and he thinks that makes him the most elite mind in the galaxy when he’s just an ant dancing to someone else’s tune. I bet the Main Clan is already putting him on a nice little leash right about now.
“But that isn’t really the main problem. The short timeline they set is the real problem. They want to hold this in three days, which makes no sense if they want Soryntha to participate. That means that whatever method they’re using to boost her is either short-term, or they don’t want us to think of a countermeasure for it. Which only really leaves a few things that it could be.
“I bet that sexy Matriarch lady is screwed by now. You think I have a chance with her? I’ve never fucked a D-Grade before. You old ladies are so stingy—what are you protecting anymore anyway?”
BANG!
“You watch your mouth, boy!”
Thalrik put his four hands up and feigned fear.
“Elder Zelta, you still have some pep in your step. How about you spend a night or two with me?”
“Boy!”
“Stop calling me boy. If I take off my pants, you’ll be calling me daddy instead.”
“Alright, enough Thalrik. Don’t antagonize your elders.”
Thalrik pouted but eventually acquiesced. However, there were quite a few elders in the room not privy to the real Thalrik who were looking at him now as though he had four heads instead of four arms.
“… Thalrik…” Elder Haedzza tentatively asked.
Thalrik’s eyes lit up. “Are you going to take me up on my offer?”
The elder ignored the words and asked her question instead. “What do you mean by what you said about the Matriarch?”
Thalrik blinked. “… So uneducated. Well, the best method of deciding someone’s potential is looking at their parents. Normally, though, it isn’t a perfect one-to-one, and talent tends to dilute the further from the source it gets, but it’s accurate enough.
“But, there are organizations and powers with particularly good control over Blood and Bone Essence that know how to use it to revitalize potential lost through the generations.
“There’s no secret that Matriarch Valeria is far more talented than her daughters have ever been. Right about now, she’s probably being sucked dry for all she’s worth.”