Three days later, Forge Star Island welcomed an unprecedented grand event: the once-in-a-decade Forging/Blacksmith Tournament.
No one could predict how many high-quality weapons would be forged today. Every entry in the competition was guaranteed to be reserved in mere moments. In fact, some weapons were already claimed the moment their names were announced.
"Come one, come all! Check out the weapons from the 12th Forging Tournament! See which ones are already reserved—just 100 Berries for the info, no tricks, no lies!"
"Damn those bastards," grumbled a Navy Rear Admiral wrapped in a cloak emblazoned with the word 'Justice.' He held a booklet in his hand as he moved through the crowd. "They won't come buy weapons themselves and just dump the job on me!"
"Haha! Rear Admiral Frederick, your base is on Forge Star Island. It's not like they can just leave their posts at sea. Who else would they ask but you?" another Navy officer in casual wear laughed nearby.
"If I weren't on vacation, I'd be the one asking you for a favor!" he added, chuckling.
Forge Star Island housed a naval base and had very few pirate sightings. After all, it frequently took orders from the Navy, so maintaining its security was crucial.
Still, the weapon requests he'd received gave Frederick a headache. Sabers? Fine. Hammers? No problem. But someone actually requested a pheasant knife? What the hell was that supposed to be?
Did anyone even forge something like that in this tournament?
...
...
The list of registered weapons was nearly complete—almost every entry was accounted for. Half of the common weapon types had already been reserved.
According to the tournament rules, once a weapon design was finalized, it couldn't be modified mid-competition. Doing so would result in immediate disqualification.
And the agreed-upon price couldn't be changed later, either. Even if a contestant's weapon turned out to be of "Great Grade" quality, it would still have to be sold at the original, possibly undervalued, price.
There was a famous case once where someone bought a "Great Grade" weapon at a "Skillful Grade" price. The champion of that year almost turned green with regret.
That's why most of the reserved weapons now came from contestants with a clear understanding of their own skill level and what their work was worth.
Today, almost none of the usual street vendors stayed in town to do business. Everyone flocked to the center of the island—right to the foot of the active volcano.
The ground there was barren and blackened, reeking of sulfur. Normally deserted, the area was now packed with people.
At the base of the volcano stood one hundred forging stations, each equipped with a bellows and flanked by three burly assistants who would help the blacksmiths during the competition.
"Ice cream! Cold, refreshing ice cream! Come get yours before it's all gone!" shouted a vendor, pushing a white cart that stood out vividly against the black volcanic backdrop.
A pirate ran up to the cart, fanning himself frantically. It was already hot at the volcano's base—now with the crowd, it was stifling.
"Boss, one ice cream please!" the pirate called.
"Sure thing, that'll be 1,000 Berry!"
"What? That's robbery!" the pirate shouted, drawing the attention of those nearby.
"Oh? You noticed?" the vendor smirked. "Of course it's robbery. Take it or leave it." He waved the ice cream in front of the pirate, then stuffed it back into the cart.
The cool air made the pirate drool. Unable to bear the heat any longer, he begrudgingly handed over the money.
The vendor beamed and handed over the treat. "Here you go, the coldest ice cream on the island!"
The pirate took a lick and frowned. "Boss, why is it melting so fast?"
The vendor rolled his eyes. "Because it's cold!"
"Move along, don't block my business!"
The pirate could only walk away in frustration.
You might think such attitude and product wouldn't sell—but you'd be wrong. Less than an hour after the cart appeared, it was completely sold out.
Locals didn't usually buy ice cream—they were used to the heat. But newcomers couldn't stand it, so cold treats sold like hotcakes.
The merchant guild didn't bother regulating the prices. After all, it was a willing transaction. If you came to the volcano to buy ice cream, you were practically begging to be ripped off.
Among these unfortunate buyers was Weiss. But unlike others, he didn't buy just one ice cream—he bought the whole cart.
"Weiss! That was the last one!" Joanne shouted as she pulled out the final ice cream from the cart, eating it smugly while Kadun stared longingly.
"Jack! Find another cart, now!"
Just as Weiss gave the order, another white cart seemed to appear from nowhere like a ghost in the crowd.
"Sword Demon, buy from me! I've got plenty in stock!"
Eating ice cream at the base of a volcano? Perfectly reasonable.
"Sword Demon, mine's better—extra water content!"
It's hot, hydration is key!
"Sword Demon, my ice has more chunks!"
Crunching ice at a volcano base? Still makes sense!
Weiss glanced at Karina. She nodded and stepped forward, lifting the lids of each cart one by one to inspect them for stock.
"This one," she declared.
After checking them all, she handed over 100,000 Berry, claiming the cart for Weiss. The other two vendors weren't disappointed—they knew it would soon be their turn.
Shirtless and in beach shorts, Theodore proudly pushed the cart away. Jack gave him a smirk and pulled out two ice creams for himself.
Slurp!
Slurp!
"Ahh, real ice, extra water, so refreshing! Unlike some people who can only eat one at a time with one hand!"
Theodore's veins popped in fury—but he couldn't do anything about it.
Because earlier, he'd teased Jack the exact same way.
Kadun wisely kept to himself and quietly ate two ice creams—after all, he was next to push the cart.
Karina saw all this, sighed helplessly, and grabbed two ice creams for herself as well.
Seeing the duo eating together only made Theodore more frustrated.
Weiss ignored all of them. He figured they were just bonding. One was a freak, the other a brooding narcissist—they didn't get along and occasionally fought, but their antics brought some much-needed levity to the otherwise dull journey.
At that moment...
The loudspeakers crackled to life.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 12th Blacksmith Tournament! All contestants, please come forward to prepare for the competition!" the host's voice echoed as he warmed up the crowd.
"Oh my god! Look, look! Isn't that Phoenix, the top contender this year? I heard someone already offered 50 million Berry for his weapon!"
The crowd erupted with excitement.
"Phoenix! Your weapons are the best!"
"You're amazing!"
"Phoenix! I want to have your babies!"
Phoenix had been basking in the cheers, until he turned to see who had shouted that last one.
His expression froze.
He turned stiffly away.
Lady… you're bigger than me. What the hell are you thinking?
---
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