Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

Standing in a white open, golden gate, with a great formation in the background, was an old priest holding an impassioned speech.

“And he raised his hands to the sky and called forth a flock of winged creatures, so they would slay his enemy!” the elderly priest, wearing ostentatious robes cried out in his raspy voice. His wrinkled hands gestured to the sky, as golden rays fell on the crowd of young people before him.

Paolo was among the crowd. He had listened to the creation myth of this place. Not because he was interested, but because he had no other choice. Neither had the people in the crowd. All of them wore heavy handcuffs that suppressed mana and physical power.

Originally, he and his friend Marco had infiltrated the Voracious Cloud Continent to gather information independently to find out more about their potential enemies. Although one couldn’t call their journey calm or safe, it had not been a big problem to traverse the vast planes past the entrance.

Using the rough map and the mapping skill master Mountains had provided Minas Mar, the two had made their way all the way to the vicinity of the provincial capital. They had been able to more or less adapt to the way of the Cloud Continent and collected information from various brokers on the way.

However, things had gone awry in the morning when Marco left to get the information from the information broker. Not because they underestimated the people of the continent, but because a very familiar catastrophe had caught them by surprise.

On Urth, it had long been common knowledge for residential areas to be covered by apparatuses that would block the random opening of gates. This wasn’t the case on the Voracious Cloud Continent. Now, it had been several days since Paolo had been sucked into the Pathworks and was spat out in this foreign world.

The supporter had also been quite unlucky with his first encounter here. Before he could do anything to heal the spatial tears in his body or replace the ragged robed, he was already bound by cold iron chains, that blocked him from using skills or the inventory. This was just a day ago.

Taken for a villager, he was conscripted for this “blessing” against his will and had no idea what was going on as he was pushed among a group of youths, all waiting for the ritual. From what he was able to gather from the priest's convoluted speech, this ritual was a preparation for war.

A summary of the unending speech was that in this world a great saint built the current empire 1000-something years ago using the power to summon angel-like creatures. In this world, noble families formed blood pacts with various tribes among the divine beings to gain the right of summoning and part of their powers.

However, once summoned, these angels would choose their contractors themselves. Apparently, Paolo and the rest of the poor sobs here had the questionable honor of receiving the chance to become a contractor. Technically, they were the people they threw against a wall to see what stuck.

Chosen ones would gain a great standing, as for those not chosen… they stayed suspiciously quiet about what happened to them. Although Paolo had no interest in this and wanted to find a way to quickly return to Urth, the healer saw no way to get out of this situation, so he just had to play along.

The priest’s speech finally ended, and it became quiet. The ritual began. Paolo used the time to observe the crowd better. Not all of them were chained here, there was a group of people obviously standing out.

Not being chained, and wearing fine, clean clothing were a bunch of teens and children. They were whispering and talking trying to keep a noble bearing about them. Whenever they glanced at the crowd Paolo was part of, they twisted their faces like they saw shit.

As a modern person he had not too much experience, but judging by the people of Chrona he saw, and stories he heard, he guessed that these were the noble descendants of the clan actually organizing this ritual.

“I guess having a blood relative being chosen is always the better option, compared to gifting power to some ragged stranger..:” the priest thought to himself sarcastically. To think they would even risk their own offspring in this...

His eyes wandered back to the formation, where the great priest finished his incessant chanting. However, nothing happened. Perturbed, the high priest and his assistant discussed this with the older generation of nobles that stayed in the background.

Several minutes later, they repeated the ritual to the same extent. Nothing happened. Was he lucky and their gods didn't answer the prayers today? A man walked over to the group of nobles' children and told them something, Paolo was able to overhear.

“This is nothing unusual, it may take a few more tries. You can take a break while priests rest and recover for the next round,” he told them. Hoping he was lucky, what was he thinking? Many of the youngsters left, probably for more comfortable rooms, same with their parents. Meanwhile the “conscripts” had to stay in the burning sun. Only a few teens stayed, now talking less constraint with each other

Paolo observed them, trying to glean something from their conversations, when he suddenly got a system prompt.

<Ding! A quest has been generated!>

<Speed Quest: Prevent the Amputation of “)($§)(,.

A young girl is about to lose her arm. Prevent ")($§)('s Tragedy.

Requirement: “)($§)( surviving the day with both arms

Reward: Pending>

Bewildered, he looked at the quest window in front of him. Who or what was “)($§)( and why would he want to save “)($§)(, apart from the quest..? Paolo couldn't use any of his skills or system privileges, so he couldn't appraise the people to find who “)($§)(, was. Not that he thought “)($§)( was their actual name...

Coincidentally his eyes fell on the platform behind the ornate gate and fence when it was tinged in a dim light and a group of people appeared without much fanfare. Only the people who happened to look at the platform saw what happened.

They were women with tanned, hazelnut brown skin, dark brown hair, and piercing yellow eyes. The eyes were even more striking than the pairs of black wings on their backs. The crowd of captives had quickly noticed them, but the few remaining noble teens were vigorously talking and joking, not noticing the situation.

With a displeased smile, the leader at the front looked at the crowd of youths who had yet to notice her presence. Paolo's eyes are forced to look at a young girl, who seemingly did not notice the arrival of the winged women, as she was talking with a friend. Was she “)($§)(? He didn’t have the time to think more about it, as he suddenly saw things as if they happened in slow motion.

The leader of the angels sneered as a dark shadow spread from below her, extending to right beside the girl. His body moved instinctively, rushing forward and tackling the girl aside as the jaws of a giant black werewolf emerged from the shadow, clamping down where she had just stood. Rolling on the floor, the girl flat on the ground, he turned around to see the beast fully stepping out from the black shadow.

“Hoho, how stunning and brave~ This dog had quite the guts, but a good dog should know not to get in the way of their potential owner,” the leader of the winged beings with short pitch-black hair said with a crazy chuckle. The towering werewolf took a menacing stance, threatening Paolo.

“I already have a liege and I'm past living like a dog,” he gave a standoffish comment as he laboriously got back up. Even though his skills and most of his physical attributes were sealed, he was still a lv.91 adventurer and a member of Minas Mar. He still had some pride and a backbone in him.

“Look like this puppy needs some whipping!” the angel said excitedly, as the werewolf bared its teeth.

“Take these chains off of me and we will see who gets the whipping!” he provoked cockily. The angel only laughed, as the wolf attacked without warning.