Ultimate Level 1-Chapter 453: A Chance to Not Hold Back

Chapter 453 - A Chance to Not Hold Back

Max and the others sat in the chairs Dagon had offered them, and only two of his Elite Guards were in the room. They sat there, watching the dwarven King play with his beard.

“Already on the 62nd floor. That is impressive. And your aura is proof of that. How did the first floor treat you?”

“The choice of killing what we would call children?”

A slight frown appeared on the older dwarf's lips as he nodded slowly.

“Not something any of us would ever want to do,” their warrior replied.

“Yet you do recall what you were told before that floor. Each choice you make has lasting effects. I’ve often wondered what they meant by that.”

Fowl cleared his throat a little and when Dagon looked at him and nodded, he sat up a little straighter.

“Do you mean because of how it would change you?” freēwēbηovel.c૦m

“Exactly! I’ve often wondered about the weight I carried from that moment. War is an ugly thing; in battle, one can close off a part of one's mind and soul. Those you fight and kill are simply obstacles to the safety and well-being of those whom you love. Yet standing there and seeing a child and knowing you may have to end their life to accomplish a goal like the tower is different. It does things to you and changes you inside.”

Max knew the truth of that statement, already having had to prepare himself for the worst if that moment had come.

“There is a lot of reasons why I never ventured further into the tower. Just because I’m the King, many forget that I was simply the prince at one time, and while my father did everything he could to prepare me for the mantle of leadership, the tower was one of the greatest tests I ever faced.”

Sighing, Dagon leaned over, picked up the jeweled cup he had near him, and took a drink before playing with it momentarily.

“Leaders are forged in battle and tough moments. Like metal, it takes fire to cleanse the impurities before they can be used for real purposes. One must pound them into the shape that will be useful. Not all tools are equal, but all have a purpose. The harder part is being the one who shapes tools.”

“Why is that?” Cordellia asked.

Smiling, the King pointed at Max with one of his large fingers.

“He could tell you. It takes patience and effort to make something great. You could spend your whole life looking for the right materials and never acquire them all, unable to make that one object you always desired.

“You could also forge thousands of weapons or tools and find out that none of them were used for the purpose they had been made for. Then you have to deal with those who don’t like what you made. Even worse are those who think they can become you by simply killing you.”

How little does he know.

“I’m sorry, but what I can tell you about the tower is limited to the single floor I did. I won’t ask what the floor said your rank was. Just know that part of me fears the tower because of what I think it is trying to do.”

Everyone waited silently as Dagon took another drink and set his cup down. Slowly, the dwarf leaned forward, his large presence seeming to grow.

“The tower doesn’t want to be beaten by everyone. Only those it feels can become what it wants you to be. Part of me believes it will force you to change if it can. If I can give you any advice as an old dwarf: Don’t forget who you are no matter what is offered, if you do that and let yourself go, the person you’ll see in the mirror each morning will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Finished speaking, Dagon leaned back in his chair.

“That… was deep,” Fowl stated.

Laughing, the King nodded. “Sometimes I wish you would have accepted that offer to join my Guard. It’s evident just how wise you are by what you say.”

Max and the others glanced at each other, all trying not to react as their warrior almost seemed to light up, sticking his chest out.

“Now then, can I do anything else for you all? While I do enjoy a good distraction from my daily life, there are thousands of dwarves waiting for me to make decisions, and I still have one request to make before you go.”

“I think that’s all our questions,” Max replied as he glanced at the others. “What is it you need?

“Well, anytime I can, I’ll spend some time with you all. If I’m honest, your party managed to chip away some of the hardness that had taken hold in my heart. Even though it hurt, I needed to have it beaten off.”

Fowl suddenly burst into laughter, and then Dagon’s face went red before he started laughing.

“Men,” Batrire groaned.

A few chuckles later, Dagon cleared his throat and banged his chest.

“I should be grateful my wife isn’t here for that moment. She would not have appreciated it. But back to my request. Max, I need you to duel me.”

His head jerked slightly, and he watched the King's smile grow.

“You want to duel me? Is there a reason?”

“There is, but I won’t tell you until after we’ve done it. Trust me. You’re going to want to do this and don’t worry about either of us dying. I have a special training area crafted by Ockrim himself.”

“Oh you have to say yes!” Fowl exclaimed almost coming out of his chair.

Shrugging, Max motioned to his friend with his head.

“Looks like I have no choice. I accept.”

“Wonderful!”

The dwarven King clapped his hands together, and the two guards nodded, one of them quickly exiting the room.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead the way.

***

The tour through the castle inside the mountain had left all them speechless.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Perfectly cut lines with no cracks in the stone created every hallway and room. Gone was the standard worked stone they had seen everywhere else. These pieces appeared to have been laid by something other than dwarven hands.

The section Dagon took them through was different and running his fingers along the wall, Max could almost sense the power it had taken to carve such a thing.

Each of these hallways are perfectly straight and level.

As we discussed before, if Ockrim himself did this, then his power is beyond what we both believed. I’m a little excited to see this room that Dagon says was built by their god for them.

Eventually, they came to stand before a normal-looking stone door except for the runes etched on it. Magical energy started to course through them when Dagon placed his hand on the brown stone, red and gold light swirling around where his flesh touched.

“Sorry, it’s a bit dramatic if you ask me. Still it prevents anyone without my blessing from entering here.”

A click came, and then the door swung inward, revealing a large room easily a quarter mile long and a good two hundred yards wide. Even the ceiling was impressive, stretching upward fifty yards.

The crystal they recognized from some of the tower floors was all around, illuminating the area and giving off a warm light.

“Come in, come in,” Dagon said as he motioned for them to follow. “I’ve got a special place everyone else can watch from.”

Max poked Fowl in the side as his friend's mouth hung open, ignoring the scowl he got in return.

“This is a rather large area. Do you do a lot of training here?”

“Every week, my Guard comes here and trains. I try to make sure that I participate at least once a month. One can go all out in this room and not fear death because of the runes and power within the stone.”

“This place is real,” Tanila whispered.

“What was that?”

She shook her head and looked at the dwarven King who was smiling at her.

“This room… There were stories about such a place, but no one believed them. The kind of power it would take to build it… is beyond what most could comprehend.”

“Aye that it is. We don’t speak about it often; only the special ones ever get a chance to witness a duel here. However, as you have learned, one cannot be afraid of holding back in the tower. To do so can mean the difference between life and death. So it appears Ockrim knew this and blessed us greatly by giving a treasure to our people like this.

“For generations, the greatest fighters and tower climbers have come here, honing their skills like never before. I know of the training areas most Factions have and while they are good, they don’t convey the same truth.”

“Which is what?” Cordellia asked.

“How hard have you ever really gone on those training grounds?”

Their archer shuffled her feet slightly and shrugged.

“Every shot had to be perfect, or I might fly off outside of it. I can’t imagine if someone else was injured because I was careless or if my opponent dodged my attack. So I held back a little to ensure I never hurt an innocent bystander.”

“Exactly!” Dagon exclaimed. “There is none of that here. The wall has withstood everything thrown at it since it was first built. I’ve personally struck it as hard as I could and watched it repair itself in an instant. Even better is the fact that if you die on this field, you’ll experience the pain and agony of the injury, but when that final moment comes and your life is snuffed out…”

He snapped his fingers and grinned.

“You return completely whole and ready to go again!”

“That is quite impressive,” Batrire said. “As someone who almost died before, I cannot imagine one would intentionally choose to fight like this, but it makes sense.”

“Indeed, sister. Now then. Follow me and let me get everyone else into their spot. I don’t have endless time, but I plan to get a few matches before I depart.”

“Uh… what about cooldowns on skills?”

A belly laugh came from the king as his oversized body shook slightly.

“Oh that’s easy. You just have to die to reset them all.”

Max felt his heart stop for a beat, and then he couldn’t help but smile.

This is going to be fun.

Yes. Yes, it is.

***

“I will tell you this, Max: the moment the sound of that horn rings out, I won’t hold back. Please don’t do that either. No matter how this fight ends, I’ll die and reset every skill I have because I need you to learn something.”

“Why are you telling me this and doing this for me?”

Tapping the helmet on his head, Dagon smiled from behind the opening.

“Ockrim told me I needed to. That means I’m going to give you the beating of your life.”

“Wait, what–”

“Later!” the King called out as he walked away. “We can talk after the first match!”

Ockrim told him to do this?

Focus on the fight. We’re about to go up against one of the oldest, and I’m guessing, strongest dwarves in the world. We need to throw everything we have at him.

You’re not worried about showing all of our cards?

No. For whatever reason, the game the gods are playing in has brought us here to truly test us. So, we will pass this test or keep dying until we do.

Taking a deep breath, Max nodded and looked up in the special seats where a crystal pane covered the outer area. Behind it was the rest of his team, each looking on with different expressions etched on their faces.

Fowl and Batrire were practically salivating at the mouth, faces pressed up against the crystal, shouting something he couldn’t hear.

Cordellia was bobbing her head slowly, an unusual grin present.

Meanwhile, Tanila looked anxious, and he couldn’t guess why.

Focus.

Finding the spot marked on the stone floor for him to start, Max turned and faced Dagon, now outfitted in a glowing red suit of armor. The chest and leg pieces had dragon scales on it, and the rest were glowing with runes.

In the King’s oversized hand was a two-handed hammer that was easily eight feet tall and ready to crush Max under the wide head.

Max's weapon took the shape of a hooked scythe, and he rotated his shoulders as Fowl always did, holding his gorgon shield in his left hand.

“Ready?!”

He nodded at the call from one of the guards.

Dagon laughed, grasped the hammer in both hands, and mimicked his call.

Then the horn rang.

‎