Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

The two combatants of the final round of the semi-final had entered the arena, facing each other. On one side was Ibelin Godfrey. looking like the spitting image of a crusader with his great helmet, mail armor, and unique surcoat. The only thing spitting in the face of the image was his modern weaponry consisting of heavy firearms and explosives.

As if deliberately trying to be the exact opposite was Bartholomew Mathias, the chosen of Baldur, God of Light and Peace. Contrary to his opponent he was almost completely naked and unarmed. Solely the pair of trousers he wore protected the billions of viewers from witnessing his dangly crown jewels.

Despite looking like opposites, if one compared their fighting style so far, they were more similar than one would expect. Both relied on an overwhelming defense, reliant on holy skills while dealing powerful attacks in melee and long-distance combat.

“Ready? Then-begin!” Umi announced the start of the battle. The chosen of Baldur immediately charged forward closing the distance. he was met by a hail of gunfire. However, the bullets could not penetrate his defense and bounced off. ultimately, his fist struck the crusader's shield, creating cracks in the invisible barrier.

“Before you ask, I will not show you the courtesy of agreeing to a Holy Duel, “ Bartholomew informed his opponent, as he punched the shield several more times, ignoring the bullets bouncing off his abs.

The Holy Duel, which allowed the crusader to fight in the name of his god and would increase his power tremendously, was the reason Ibelin was able to best Lyca in their previous fight. Although Bartholomew seemed like a battle freak, he was obviously not stupid enough to play on hard mode this late in the tournament.

Godfrey stayed calm, relying on the shield. Although it was cracking, it didn't seem like it would burst anytime soon.

“Hmm. Thank you for your consideration, but don't worry. I will still win,” he said with solemn confidence. The machine gun in his hands vanished and something else appeared in his hand, shining in a blinding golden light. Even Bartholomew was forced to let off of the barrier and take some distance

“ Let me introduce you to my holy lance, Ma Deus,” he revealed and the light condensed. It was a massive machine gun as tall as himself and with a barrel as thick as his wrist. The upright standing firearm fell forward, landing on a materializing tripod.

The moment it connected, an ear-shattering shot was fired that echoed through the stadium. The arena shook with dust rising into the air. Not even Seth was able to follow the zooming projectile that left the barrel, ripping a chunk off Bartholomew's side without even losing speed. The chosen had tried evading in the last moment, preventing it from piercing his stomach.

Godfrey was quite unique on Urth, as he was one of the few who had not converted to the ways of the System. One could say that he was the peak of the way of Y-City, where people had been forced to strive for a fusion of magic and science.

As technology stopped working in Ypselon at the beginning of the apocalypse and they refused outside interference from the Pathworks because of the early invasion of the Muir Empire, it was the only place where people like Ibelin could come from. Although Beta had a similar fate in the beginning, they fell too early.

How much he would have liked to appraise Ibelin's guns, but they had all been enchanted with a power that blocked appraisal. The blacksmith would have loved to know where these guns came from, or whether the person who made them was even still alive. He would have already been happy learning how they blocked the appraisal.

According to Leana, there were several ways to block appraisal, the most common being a specific skill being involved. However, these skills were incredibly rare and books or scrolls containing them were not even sold on the Auction house. At least there was none, ever since Seth had gotten his VIP status. Allegedly there were also some enchantments with the effect, but not even the Chrona Empire had someone who knew an enchantment for blocking the appraisal of an item.

It was just a short thought, that was drowned as the machine gun did what was expected of it, firing. Umi's commentary, the murmurs of the audience, everything fell silent as Ma Deus started speaking in rapid fire. A dust storm rose from the arena as the stadium was shaken by the guns roars and the stream of bullets pelted Bartholomew.

A layer of light covered the champion's body, barely deflecting the stream of bullets, as he was helplessly pushed back under the impact of Ibelin's attack. With a roar, Bartholomew exploded in a nova of searing light, blowing away bullets and Ibelin.

The radiant light made it hard to look at. Unlike in the previous fight, when he became a well-defined silhouette of white light, the light was spread out, actually hiding his figure in the brightly illuminated area.

“Haha, how about this? Can you still hit me?” Bartholomew taunted confident in his skill. It was true, not even the audience far away was able to see him with their bare eyes. But Ibelin stayed calm, as he pulled something from his inventory.

“Don’t worry, I can deal with it,” he said smugly, putting on a pair of shades, on top of the great helmet’s eye slits. Equipped with his pair of shades, the holy lance Ma Deus started roaring again, breathing out shower after shower of holy high-caliber bullets.

They vanished in the brightness, many playing a rapid staccato when they exploded on the opposite side of the barrier that covered the arena and protected the audience from the powers of the participants.

“Urm, do you think the barrier can hold on?” Mina suddenly asked a little concerned. She had zoomed in on the perspective of a golem eye, that was observing the barrier, which was slowly forming cracks after being repeatedly shot in the same spot by the overblown weapon.

“Don’t worry, even if it breaks, that’s just the first layer,” Luf informed her calmly. The wise death bride had already thought of this. Like the arena floor covered in <Mithril>, the barrier had also gotten an upgrade during the transition to the final battles.

Although they were prepared, it didn’t mean that they would have expected participants below level 100 and without legendary items to exert this amount of damage. It would have been a reason for concern if Ibelin had the buff on top of firing the holy lance. At that point, he may have posed a threat to the barrier and maybe even the audience.

However, this was not the worst-case scenario. The barrier cracked, but it didn’t break. Ma Deus dealt just enough damage to overcome the self-repair function in that small area. Watching the spectacle, Seth’s curiosity about the maker of those firearms only grew.

After all, who was able to create such powerful armaments and be able to stay hidden from their eyes? Well, it wasn’t like they had been actively looking for a gunsmith, but one would have expected to hear about them through rumors.

“Solar Spear!” a shout suddenly echoed through the arena and a giant spear materialized from light shot toward the crusader. It seemed like Bartholomew finally decided to counterattack. The magic attack the size of a bus crashed into Ibelin’s invisible barrier, finally crushing it to smithereens and directly hitting the holy cannoneer.

Tightly grasping his holy lance, Ibelin was catapulted away and rolled a little further across the arena floor before finally coming to a halt.

“I finally got through the shell,” Bartholomew spoke, breathing heavily. The light had dimmed and revealed the severe bruises and wounds that covered his body. But Ibelin didn’t react. The crusader was mumbling something, lying on the ground.

“… that with it thou mayst blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy. 1.”

“What are you mumbling about? Is it the last prayer for your god?” Bartholomew asked with mild mockery in his voice.

“2” the solemn voice of the crusader was transmitted through the speakers in the stadium, confusing the audience. Why was he counting? Batholomew realized that his counting probably didn’t mean anything good, but by the time he wanted to make distance, it was too late.

“3.” He threw something at the Chosen of Baldur, who was not standing far away.

The whole arena was swallowed by an explosion. Roaring flames and black smoke surged against the barrier that barely managed to contain the final attack of Ibelin Godfrey. Umi Kaldrops was spared from suffering, as she was just outside the barrier when it happened.

It was impossible to see what was happening in the arena. All they could do now was wait for one or both of them to appear in the medical wing, or for the smoke and fire to subside.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.