"Master Crafter, is Moon a... necrophiliac?" Dulas asked hesitantly, her voice respectful yet tinged with curiosity. Her gaze remained fixed on Wyatt, the unknown demon merchant. Ever since she discovered that her uncle was nothing more than an incompetent cheat, her admiration for her contestant had grown exponentially. It was bordering on reverence. If he were to point at gold and call it silver, she wouldn't argue. Instead, she'd wonder why he said it.
Wyatt shook his head, a faint sigh escaping him. "How would I know? Ask her," he replied, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation. He had noticed how quickly Dulas was beginning to imprint on him, likely due to the collapse of her previous source of guidance. It was both good and bad. Good, because he could mold her into a skilled craftsman. Bad, because he had no interest in becoming a surrogate parental figure. Yet, with Dulas, it seemed both skill and childlike dependence came as a package deal.
"I will do that," Dulas replied with a firm nod, completely missing the subtext in Wyatt's tone. Before he could stop her or change the topic, she pressed on, "Why was your puppet able to withstand the power of the Spiritual Interference Technique head-on?"
Wyatt tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Ask Moon. She seems to have figured it out the moment I gave her authority over one of the corpse puppets," he said, wanting to find out whether Moon had indeed deduced the workings of the puppet's entire Artificial Will or just partially. Either meant that Moon had high talent for crafting.
"I'll do that," Dulas responded with the same unwavering determination. Her earnestness was almost endearing—almost.
Beside them, her uncle, Biore, his fists clenched tightly. His face was a storm of frustration and jealousy. Ignoring his earlier failures, he tried once again to probe the Artificial Will of the Frosling corpse puppet. If a mere Frosling could figure it out, surely he, a Chaos Dwarf Master Crafter, could as well. He seemed to have conveniently forgotten that he had already attempted—failed miserably and gave up—before. But listening to the unknown demon merchant say Moon had figured it out, his competitive spirit ignited. Meanwhile, in the arena, neither Moon Fright nor the Armixian devil merchant made a move. Their eyes locked in an intense stare, neither daring to blink. While it seemed Moon had the upper hand with her Glacier Web covering the battlefield, she remained cautious. After all, her opponent was a devil merchant, and the sheer spiritual power at his disposal far surpassed hers. This advantage allowed him to compensate for his corpse puppet's shortcomings, making him a serious threat to her Armored Frosling corpse puppet.
The silence was oppressive as the two champions measured each other, the tension in the colosseum grew. Realizing his opponent wasn't going to make the first move, the Armixian devil merchant adjusted his strategy. He had planned to exploit his opponent's arrogance, but it was now clear the Frosling was level-headed and calculated. With a subtle smirk, he broke the standoff and began chanting, "Spiritual Spark!"
Almost instantly, the slender corpse puppet standing before him was enveloped in crackling lightning. Electric arcs danced across its body, disintegrating parts of the Glacier Web upon contact. The air around the puppet hissed and popped with energy, and then—BOOM!—a massive explosion erupted around the Armixian's corpse puppet.
Moon's lips curled into a triumphant grin. The explosion was no accident; she had anticipated this. Even Wyatt was surprised understanding what Moon had just pulled of. The electricity generated by the puppet had triggered electrolysis in the Glacier Web, splitting the ice into hydrogen and oxygen. As the concentration of gases in the air reached a perfect 2:1 ratio, the electric arcs ignited the mixture, causing the violent detonation. Though he wasn't sure if she understood it as he did. Her frame of reference might be different. However, her grin quickly faded. Through the smoke and debris, she noticed the Armixian's corpse puppet standing unscathed. The lightning coursing through it had formed an electric shroud, protecting it from the explosion's flames. Its sturdy frame easily withstood the shockwaves, leaving it ready to continue the fight.
The crowd erupted into murmurs and cheers, their excitement growing by the second. This was shaping up to be one of the most thrilling crafting duels in recent memory.
The judges intensely glanced at the arena from above, intrigued by the display of skill. The Armixian's use of Spiritual Spark—a lightning-attribute spiritual art that converted spiritual energy into lightning—was a clever counter. Not only did it shield the puppet, but it also neutralized the Glacier Web's threat. By infusing the corpse puppet with his own spiritual power, the Armixian had effectively allowed it to wield the Spiritual Spark ability. The electric aura surrounding the puppet also seemed to grant it counter against the Glacier Plague, nullifying one of Moon's greatest advantages.
Moon's eyes narrowed, her thoughts racing as she devised a new strategy. Without hesitation, she chanted aloud, "Spiritual Snow." Her voice echoed through the arena, carrying an air of confidence. This particular spiritual art, gifted to her race by the Snow Elves during their time as refugees, allowed her to convert her spiritual energy into snow.
To everyone's astonishment, Moon's mastery over Spiritual Snow appeared to verge on the sage tier, a level rarely seen. The arena's climate began to shift dramatically. Snowflakes swirled through the air, gathering on the Glacier Web and the frosty arena floor. The temperature plummeted rapidly, diving into the negatives and still dropping further. The cold in air grew rapidly, sending shivers even through the enchanted barriers protecting the audience.
"Oh, no, you don't!" the Armixian devil merchant bellowed, his booming voice cutting through the rising storm. Realizing her plan, he mentally commanded his corpse puppet to attack. 'Brutalstrike!'
He had discerned Moon's intentions—she was attempting to replicate the frigid climate of Winter Valley. If she succeeded, her corpse puppet could fully weaponize the Glacier Plague infused in it, giving her an overwhelming advantage.
Moon, undeterred, shouted her next move with unwavering determination, "Snow Sword Arts: Third Form, Avalanche!"
The armored corpse puppet reacted instantly, executing her command through their spiritual connection. As Moon envisioned herself wielding a massive claymore, the puppet mirrored her thoughts. Using its Glacier Silk, it conjured a colossal sword through an intricate 3D printing process. The shimmering claymore materialized, crackling with icy energy.
With a swift, deliberate motion, the puppet performed the Snow sword's Avalanche form, its blade cleaving through the air with the weight of an avalanche behind it. Snow, gathered by the bitter winds, surged forward as the puppet's claymore struck. The flurry of snow cascaded down in a massive, roaring torrent, engulfing the charging corpse puppet.
The audience gasped, their cheers muffled by the sheer spectacle of the snowfall swallowing the battlefield. Even the judges floating about the arena were covered in snow, their attention riveted on the clash unfolding below them.
The Armixian's corpse puppet strained against the onslaught, its movements slowed as the cold and snow pressed down like a suffocating force. Yet the Armixian devil merchant's eyes glinted with determination, and the electric shroud covering its body intensified breaking through the cold and pressure, retaining its speed.