Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

---Little Gamma---

The first day of the Pythian Games. The massive stadium finally opened its gates. Taken along by the colorful crowd he was flooded into the wonder of architecture. The central plaza was surrounded by ranks and booths that towered into the sky. Enough seats to fit a whole city or three...

He had stayed at Little Gamma for the past few days and had to admit, that the blacksmith and his people had outdone themselves. Seth had surpassed his expectations by far. Although they didn't have a chance to meet yet, the blacksmith had sent him tickets for special seats.

Back then, he would never have expected that the man he came to know as a bard and blacksmith would become the leader of such a massive organization, to the point that they would even organize an event of such scale and offer a legendary item as a prize.

The first days were reserved for the contests of artistry, something he knew he had no talent in. Polter was a warrior whose only goal was the tournament, which would be the final of the Pythian games. As such, the dwarf used his stocky build to find his way through the mass of people and find his seat in one of the VIP Booths prepared for special guests.

Since he didn't partake in any of the earlier events, he took his time to enjoy the seats he was given. There was still an hour before the time of the first act, but the stadium was already filled to the brim. With interest, the dwarf looked at the other people he could spot in the seats of honor and adjacent VIP booths.

The most eye-catching one had to be the Arch Lich who was peacefully sitting between a handful of other undead and two dark elves. ”Undead and Dark Elves... Are they a delegation from Arget Nore?” the dwarf realized surprised.

Apart from the flashy undead, his eyes stuck to the old men in exotic, colorful robes. He had stayed long enough in Little Gamma to know that they were martial masters from the Voracious Cloud Continent, a world with a mysterious space bridge to Urth.

Once Polter stepped into the arena, they were a group of people he had to be wary of the most during the tournament. He had heard a lot about their weird and unique fighting techniques and magical powers. he was confident in dealing with people from the system worlds, even if they came from Chrona or Spatia.

“Hey, Polter, you are here, too?” someone asked as they sat down beside him. it was a familiar voice, but it had been ages since he heard it. When he looked over, he saw a muscular, handsome human, sitting beside him leisurely.

“Caleb?” the dwarven warrior asked surprised at the reunion with an old companion. Caleb, the Wyvern Knight who led their team during the evaluation. The dwarf doubted that this was a coincidence.

“Are you also here for the tournament?” the dwarf asked him, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course, you also couldn't resist trying to get your hands on a legendary item, right?” Caleb commented jokingly.

“To be honest, I'm also using this as a way to get out. A small vacation from my old man..” the dwarf said leisurely. Although they had not seen each other for a while, they had gone through life and death with each other. Their trust was unwavering, at least Polter didn't fear Caleb would rat him out to his father.

“Haha, I understand. Although it would be great to win, I doubt I can make it. My goal is getting my name out there for the last push,” Caleb explained. The Wyvern Knight was now lv.93 and he had done his homework. he needed to collect fame for the time once he reached lv.100.

The Pythian games were a massive event, despite being held by a newly added world. there were not just VIPs like them or leading figures of forces that had a stake in Urth, but there were many noble visitors looking for entertainment. Not to mention the transmission across the whole of Chrona. It was THE chance to get one's name out there. A good performance here could open a bright future.

They talked for a while longer, catching up on what they did and experienced after the evaluation until a great fanfare interrupted their conversation. Someone appeared at the center of the arena, standing on a hovering platform.

“Haiyoo! This is your favorite host, Umi Kaldrobs speaking! In the name of Minas Mar, I was given the honor to present the first Pythian Games of Urth to you, the denizens of the Pathworks!” she spoke upbeat into a stick she was holding. Her voice was magically amplified and transmitted across the Patchworks. Leana and Mary had done their best to get most major broadcasting channels of Chrona to broadcast the event.

“Wow...” Caleb exclaimed breathlessly. “Huh, what's wrong, Caleb?” the dwarf asked a little confused about his reaction.

“Don't you know who that is?” the Wyvern Knight asked, but quickly answered his own question.

“That's Umi, THE Umi. One of the most popular and famous broadcast hosts. There are even rumors that claim she is close to becoming a legendary actress,” the man gushed. Polter could only look at him with pity. He was convinced something had short-circuited in the knight's brain. While the dwarf feared for the man's sanity, the host kept going.

“Many of you have already heard about the Pythian Games in Olympian Myth and Religion, but these are a unique version. Why? Well, why don't I introduce you to the name-giving deity of our event?! A big cheer for the guardian deity of Little Gamma, Python!” the attractive host exclaimed and shifted away from the stadium's center.

The whole place shook like an earthquake, when the earthen floor of the arena broke open and a massive, armored snake towered into the sky, her imposing and terrifying gaze wandering over the grow. Python was revealed to the world, live and in color on television.

Python's presence silenced the stadium, as everyone could only stare at the golem snake that had just burrowed out from the foundations of the stadium.

“C-Correct me if I'm wrong but... did that thing grow since last time?” Caleb asked an octave higher than his normal voice. Polter couldn't speak, he could only nod slowly. The dwarf also felt like she had become even bigger than before. After a moment of silence, it was broken by the uproarious cheers of the crowd.

At first, it was only people from Little Gamma cheering. Many of them had witnessed situations when Pythong saved travelers or defended the city from monsters, or cultivators. Their genuine cheer caught on and before long, the adventurers and players in the stadium were also cheering.

Seeing the reaction, Python lowered her head, giving a polite bow to the audience before vanishing back into the earth, not leaving even a single displaced rock. The center of the stadium looked like it had never been disturbed. After Python was gone, Umi returned to the center of attention.

“Before we begin with the first contest, let me iterate the program for today and the following event. Urth's Pythian Games are split into two sections. The first will be the traditional contests of artistic skills. We will witness artists compete in theater, poetry, lyrics, and music.

They will compete in front of a panel of famous judges invited from all over the Pathworks, who will award them points based on their performance,” she paused for a moment.

“The second segment will consist of physical contests. From timed races to contests of strength and endurance. We will slowly ramp up the action until we finally reach the two main events of the Pythian Games, which I'm sure everyone is looking forward to.

A great obstacle race that will make even S-rank adventurers shiver. Especially since there are no rules! And, of course, the great martial tournament, where the winner can earn a legendary weapon!”

The cheers of the crowd were like the roaring of ocean waves. This was what they came for. The Martial Tournament would be a competition of skill and accumulation, but the Obstacle race was a brutal contest of schemes and ruthlessness.

“Now that the official stuff is out of the way, let's begin with the first discipline today!”

At the head of the oval stadium, opposite the entrance to the arena floor, was the private booth of Minas Mar. Below it, a row of banners now fell, revealing the panel of judges. A whisper traveled through the crowd. Most people who came here from the Pathworks knew at least one or two of them.

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