Jacob looks as Nimirea and her newly-acquired subordinates scour the room for the key, moving at incredible speed.
āAre we really not doing anything?ā Zibrek asks, looking at a very calm Jacob, who just scratches his chin and shrugs in response.
āWe should fight, lad,ā Boomgar says, narrowing his eyes. āIf we must lose, letās lose with dignity.ā
Dignity
.
As if an invisible hook pulled on the corner of Jacobās mouth, a grin appears on his face.
āHey, you two,ā Jacob says.
Nimirea ignores Jacob but the two new Champions turn.
āYeah, you do realize youāre serving the purposes of the literal Leader of the Dark Champions?ā
The red-skinned Goblin licks his lips, exposing pointed teeth, and tilts his head.
āSo? We were paired together for this trial. You couldnāt take care of the Dark Champions if they came at you with their hands tied behind their backs.ā
Filrāetk seems very satisfied of himself after insulting Jacob.
āSo, your dignity is subordinate to how you get to win over us.ā
Filrāetk takes out a large sword from an Interspatial Ring, larger than his diminutive frame, and stares down Jacob.
āThe rules donāt say I canāt teach you a lesson, Fake Champion.ā
Jacob raises his hands and keeps his smile on, āI didnāt mean to insult you. Iām just asking a question. Are you aware that youāre helping your future enemy?ā
Narfikara, the gunslinger Dwarf, stops looking and appears conflicted now.
āSheās stronger than you,ā Filrāetk says with disgust in his voice. āYouāre supposed to lead us, the real Champions, and yet you're pathetically weak.ā
āHey!ā Boomgar shouts. āShut your trap. Youāre talking to our Leader.ā
āYour Leader?ā Filrāetk asks. ā
Your
leader? Dwarf, if you havenāt noticed,
I
am the Champion that you could never be. Youāre just as pathetic as your old leader. I canāt wait for a better one to replace him. A slug would be better than himālook at him, a supposed Guide who couldnāt figure out a Trial such as this one.
Pathetic
.ā
Boomgar takes out a bomb from his Interspatial Ring but Jacob puts a hand on his shoulder.
āIf you have time to talk so much, keep looking. Or I can finish this trial by myself and keep all the rewards,ā Nimirea says, turning to look at Jacob, shaking her head as she keeps looking around the room.
āPitied by the Leader of the Dark Champions,ā Filrāetk cackles, looking straight at Jacob, his grip on his sword tightening. āArenāt you ashamed of yourself?ā
Narfikara, the Dwarf, sighs, āFilrāetk, leave them be. Show some compassion to those whoāll forever be forgotten by history.ā
āSometimes itās better to be forgotten by history,ā Nimirea says, interjecting.
Filrāetk doesnāt say anything else, but he gives Jacob one last toothy smile before speeding around the room, trying to find the key.
Jacob points at a bench and says, āNimirea, Iāll take a seat. Youāve already checked that bench. I hope you donāt mind.ā
Nimirea ignores Jacob, zooming from one part of the room to the other.
Jacob sits on the stone bench by the far corner of the room from the throne.
āJacob,
whatās the plan
?ā Zibrek asks, feeling restless. Sheās clutching the gun hidden in her cloak so hard her knuckles are popping.
āLad, I want to punch that Goblinās teeth in,ā Boomgar says. Even the usually placid Dwarf is a ball of nerves.
Jacob leans his back against the wall, cracking his neck, and lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper, āI do have a plan. Let them tire each other out. When I speak up, follow my lead, alright?ā
* * *
The Mithril Golem looks at the room in complete disapproval. He knows that Jacob Cloud is useless, but the fact that heās revealing himself as a spineless man too makes him sick in his Mithril stomach.
Thereās very little he expected from the boy, but thisā¦
āHeās not even putting up a fight,ā the Mithril Golem feels like punching a wall, but he knows heād blow up half the mountain if he did so. āMy master, Jacob Cloud, is the epitome of honor, pride, and craft. And you⦠youāre giving up without a fight. Youāre not even worthy of
whispering
my masterās name.ā
* * *
Jacob observes the attempts of Nimirea and the others, knowing that the key is
not
in the room.
The Mithril Golem wouldnāt want Nimirea to succeed. Iām not sure if heās put any thought in the third trial since he probably expects her to fail hereāactually, he most likely has planned something for the third trial as well. Thereās a possibility that Nimirea would figure this out given enough time to think.
But the throne room is extremely big and full of places where the key might be hidden. And the Mithril Golem implicitly expressed his admiration and care for his masterās son. Not even the Leader of the Dark Champions and the two newly-minted Champions dare smash anything in order to speed things up.
The Golem has filled the place up with useless things
, Jacob thinks, looking at many pieces of furniture that look out of place here. Hell, thereās even a bed against one of the walls.
He did that for us to think that he hid the key properly. Maybe, Nimirea can justify such a setup by thinking that it would have required two teams to battle
and
look for the key at the same time. But thatās not what itās for.
Jacob glimpses to the first room, the forge.
Itās all a decoy. The smug bastard confirmed what I thought initially. With the Grimoire, it would just be natural for me to look for things to fix. But the answer is not
not
fixing the metal. The problem is that itās already overcharged. He had Nimirea think that the solution is not to touch it, but in reality, the problem is in the roomās layout. All the runes, all the wild, raw Mana in the room is effectively messing with that metal. I would bet my life on the fact that the key is actually inside the molten metal. Thatās how the Golem thinks Nimireaās going to lose. Sheāll keep looking, perhaps get mad at me, but she wonāt think of going backāitās very smart, honestly. Props to the big Golem guy. His plan is good
.
Jacob smiles to himself.
Now, thereās only one problem. I have to get the key and walk all the way up to the throne without Nimirea taking my head off after figuring out what Iām trying to do.