Tower of Endless: Death Granted Entry

Contemplating back and forth, Moon started walking in circles.

Unable to make a decision, he started weighing his options.

He first thought of Uon, but then again remembered his talk of brainrot... He had a flash-forward of a ten-minute explanation around the topic without a single meaningful answer.

He shook his head; Uon was a no-go.

As for Dorbish, he thought for a moment and decided that he had only just met the fellow ascender. It was too early to be asking each other for favors.

That left him with his favorite old man, who was also not very far, assuming he was where he was supposed to be.

Moon made up his mind to go nag Ed in his hall. He was already near the entrance of Hall 1, so he broke into a sprint, followed closely by his bouncy Echo.

Knock~

Knock~

Knock~

"Chef, are you inside?" Moon called out.

Knock~

Knock!

"Open the door already!" Moon shouted. But no one answered.

"Did he go somewhere?" Moon squinted. "Should I try another couple of knocks or just leave..."

He thought for a second and decided to knock again, but before his hand touched the door—

Creaaaack~

The door opened for him.

"Oh," Moon exclaimed, "I knew you were inside!"

Moon started looking around the hall, but he didn’t see anyone.

Ting~

He heard a faint sound of metal further away from where he was standing. Moon turned around to close the door before following the noise.

On his way, he saw rows upon rows of weapons: small, short, long, wide, pole weapons.

Racks of scrap metal... Broken plate armor... Incomplete-looking weapons that didn’t seem to have handles.

Some blades seemed to have been sharpened until they became as thin as a finger, while the handle was as wide as three or so fingers.

Moon didn’t get a chance to walk this far inside the last time he visited. Today he was taking everything in for himself as if it were the first time.

Even though Moon didn’t know much about blacksmithing, he was excited by the sight. He loved weapons in general. Watching this was like seeing the life cycle of weapons that had worked for ages until they fell.

He could also see the weapons that had failed to ever see the light.

Along the way, Moon came across a desk. It was far too clean compared to everything around it. It didn’t have any boxes or racks, no weapons, nothing at all.

Only a chair, a large sheet of paper, and a pencil.

Moon came closer; there he saw roundish shapes that he couldn’t make sense of.

At the edge of the desk, he saw a picture standing.

Moon leaned forward to take a better look at it, noticing it was pristine, without a single speck of dust on it.

In the picture stood three young men. One of them wore a leather apron with a few hammers hanging from his chest pocket. He held a knife in his hand and had a mischievous smile on his face. His hair was brown, tied back.

’That’s Ed in his youth; he looked dashing,’ Moon recognized him instantly.

The second was standing in the middle; a cloak was draped over his cheap-looking clothes. He was posing with a needle-like object. His hair was black and cut in a bowl cut, not looking threatening, not like a warrior at all. His average face didn’t have the slightest smile on it.

Moon’s lips pouted. ’That grumpy bastard was born like this.’ He recognized Samuel as well.

Then, his eyes fell on the last one on the right. Moon felt his mind lag a beat. "What the fuck?" He couldn’t hold back.

The third looked like a farmer; his apron was cloth and muddy. He had a hoe over his shoulder and smiled widely. His eyes were the bluest thing Moon had ever seen, so blue it felt like they would pierce right through whoever was looking at them. His hair was darker than Ed’s, shoulder-length.

But that wasn’t the problem.

His face and hair were absolutely beautiful, so much so that he didn’t look like a guy for a second... until one realized he was the tallest of the three, and his body was the toughest-looking of the group. Even his long neck and jawline were intensely built.

The more Moon looked, the more he couldn’t push away the unsettling realization that the guy looked absurdly manly yet gorgeous.

They all looked around the same age, appearing just a few years older than Moon himself.

’How could a guy look like this... Even Roran looks like a scrub next to him...’ Moon couldn’t help thinking.

Moon’s eyes darted around, searching. He found a nearby blade and looked at his reflection.

’Fuck dammit, how does he look like that? Tall, muscular, handsome, damn dashing hair. Them eyes even... I...’ Moon’s eyes fell.

’I look like shit, dammit.’ He lamented.

"Brat, come here and help," Ed’s voice ruptured the agonizing bubble of thoughts forming around his head.

Moon looked around, but Ed was nowhere to be seen. ’Ah, he’s done it again,’ Moon thought.

It wasn’t the first time he heard Ed’s voice while the man was somewhere else. It was a very weird thing to experience.

Regardless, he followed the sound of metallic hammering.

Deep in the hall, he found a small corridor. Following it to the end, he found a heavy door made of sturdy metal.

There, the sound of metal was at its loudest.

Moon pushed the door open, and when he did—

"HOLY HOT!" he shouted instantly.

He pouted his lips, trying to blow away the searing heat, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of the scene.

A roaring red flame flared at the center of the room inside a stone cage.

At the edge of the cage was a counter where Ed stood, wearing an apron similar to the one in the picture.

On the counter lay an anvil, and on it, a piece of metal glowed brightly.

"Wanna try smithing?" Ed turned around and asked Moon.

He seemed perfectly comfortable, unlike Moon, who was already drenched in sweat within seconds.

"TOO HOT!" Moon said again.

"Every smithy is hot. Are you kidding me right now?" Ed didn’t seem to appreciate his complaint.

"HEY, I’VE SEEN TOO MANY; IT WAS NEVER THIS HOT!" Moon retorted.

"Don’t compare items recognized by the Tower to the trash weapons you had on the first floor," Ed shot back.

"HOW DO—" Moon tried to say something but...

"Brat, all blacksmiths in the Tower must suffer to develop heat resistance; those who don’t will only create trash for the rest of their lives," Ed elaborated. "If you want to try your luck, come here and help me... I almost died to get this flame, and it’s at its coolest right now. This is your chance, whether you want to do it or not," Ed added flatly before turning away, returning to his hammering.

Ting~

Ting~

Ting~

Moon watched for a moment, unable to look away. The rhythmic strikes sounded unlike anything he had heard on the first floor.

It just sounded ’Damn awesome.’

With teary eyes, trying to keep them from drying out in the heat, Moon stepped closer. His eyes now completely shut. "WHAT CAN I HELP WITH?" he shouted his lungs out to be heard, fighting the noise.

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