Pillar of Yita

The Immortal Worm’s protest silenced the crowd. At the craftsman challenge competition, cheating was rare, but the consequences from the Artisan Association for any fraudulence could be severe—ranging from point penalties to expulsion from the craftsmen ranks.

However, since the competition itself had no restrictions on equipment, participants’ gear was seldom inspected—as anything goes, there was ostensibly no need to scrutinize.

But the present circumstance was exceptional, as everyone had witnessed the anomalous performance of Fang Hong’s Clockwork Fairy, utterly different from its previous clumsiness.

Even if one were concealing their skill, the stupefying self-spin maneuver was hard to explain—it simply wasn’t something a Level Two Combat Artisan could achieve through ”personal ability.”

Yet the Dwarf Referees hardly realized their guess was almost spot on as they huddled together, whispering among themselves:

”Could it be someone else fought in his stead from offstage?”

”Impossible,” said the chief referee, stroking his pointed beard and shaking his head decidedly. ”The Clockwork Fairy was provided by us, and only the actual contestant could link with the Core Crystal. You and I have checked—it’s foolproof.”

”What about misreporting his level?” another squeaked.

”Even less likely. Have you forgotten how unusual tonight is? Those tall ones have already verified the contestants’ levels—there’s no way they made a mistake—”

”But there must be an explanation,” all the Dwarves frowned in unison.

Ultimately, it was the experienced chief referee who stopped stroking his beard and proposed, ”Then why not ask for his opinion?”

So the Dwarves approached the table en masse, bombarding Fang Hong with questions: ”Contestant D12, Contestant B3 wishes to inspect your personal tools—what is your opinion?”

As if the answer wasn’t obvious—letting others see inside the gloves would be out of the question. Only a single intact Silver Rail remained inside, although there were previously two. But the onlookers were not likely to take that into consideration.

Operating two Clockwork Fairies with just one Silver Rail sounded nearly as fanciful as fairy tales; Fang Hong knew that if word got out, he’d be finished here tonight.

So he decisively shook his head, ”It’s not possible.”

The Dwarf Referees had anticipated his response; precedent for inspecting an Alchemist’s tools didn’t exist at the craftsman challenge, as the competition had no specific restrictions on what tools Combat Artisans could utilize. Arguing that Fang Hong used his tools to cheat was hardly a tenable accusation.

Still, such an answer did little to alleviate the doubts of the crowd or silence the whisperings.

Consequently, the Dwarves looked back to the chief referee for guidance.

The chief referee was also in a quandary, hesitating, ”Even though there’s no precedent for tool inspection in craftsman challenges, as Contestant D12, you ought to explain your previous performance, right?”

Scratching his head, Fang Hong was at a loss for words—how could he explain something he didn’t understand? Even if he knew the principle, it still didn’t match his level or stats. Should he just honestly admit he was a Dragon Knight? A Level One Dragon Knight? Other than the likelihood of disbelief from others, he might as well hand over his gloves directly.

An awkward silence fell over the scene.

It was then that the Immortal Worm chimed in with its peculiar voice, ”Since Contestant D12 is unwilling to explain, I won’t press him. But I insist that D12 switches Control Gauntlets while competing against me. That’s not too much to ask, right?”

The crowd erupted at this suggestion—how was that not too much?

Even the faces of the referee panel showed discomfort. Most Combat Artisans customized their control tools, which was why inspections of Alchemists’ tools generally didn’t occur in the competition due to technology secrecy.

Competitors’ performance inevitably suffered when forced to switch their familiar tools. The Immortal Worm’s suggestion could only be described as malicious—it was a transparent ploy.

All eyes turned to Fang Hong, eager to see the young contender’s decision.

But Fang Hong’s reaction wasn’t what they expected. He stared at the Immortal Worm, incredulously retorting, ”You really want me to change gloves—are you sure?”

The Immortal Worm, assuming it had the upper hand, scoffed, ”Haha, scared of losing your crutch? If you’re afraid, I’ll offer you the chance to forfeit—no need to embarrass yourself on stage.”

”Contestant B3, watch your conduct,” interjected the referee quickly. ”Threatening or intimidating another contestant is prohibited.”

Fang Hong nearly laughed in frustration.

Though a bit naive, he was no saint. This irritatingly persistent blighter had been a thorn in his side, unreasonably targeting him again and again—even a clay Buddha would feel some irritation.

He shook his head, gently reminding, ”I only hope you won’t regret this.”

”Me?” The Immortal Worm almost burst out laughing, ”Regret?”

The crowd was stunned—they couldn’t believe the young man actually agreed. He was far too inexperienced! Even those who were most skeptical now shook their heads in disbelief, not to mention Hudi, who was beside himself with distress.

The referee panel was also taken aback, repeatedly confirming, ”Are you sure about this, Contestant D12?”

”Yes, I’m sure,” replied Fang Hong, scratching his head again, but annoyed by a different issue, ”However, I don’t have a spare set of control tools.”

”Pfft—” The Immortal Worm sprayed out a mouthful of water, laughing, ”Haha, that’s hilarious. You really are Mr. Rags’ kindred spirit. Is it that bad? Do you need me to spare you one?”

Fang Hong looked at the disdainful figure before him and gritted his teeth.