Jacob looks as Nimirea and her newly-acquired subordinates scour the room for the key, moving at incredible speed.

  “Are we really not doing anything?” Zibrek asks, looking at a very calm Jacob, who just scratches his chin and shrugs in response.

  “We should fight, lad,” Boomgar says, narrowing his eyes. “If we must lose, let’s lose with dignity.”

  Dignity.

  As if an invisible hook pulled on the corner of Jacob’s mouth, a grin appears on his face.

  “Hey, you two,” Jacob says.

  Nimirea ignores Jacob but the two new Champions turn.

  “Yeah, you do realize you’re serving the purposes of the literal Leader of the Dark Champions?”

  The red-skinned Goblin licks his lips, exposing pointed teeth, and tilts his head.

  “So? We were paired together for this trial. You couldn’t take care of the Dark Champions if they came at you with their hands tied behind their backs.”

  Filr’etk seems very satisfied of himself after insulting Jacob.

  “So, your dignity is subordinate to how you get to win over us.”

  Filr’etk takes out a large sword from an Interspatial Ring, larger than his diminutive frame, and stares down Jacob.

  “The rules don’t say I can’t teach you a lesson, Fake Champion.”

  Jacob raises his hands and keeps his smile on, “I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just asking a question. Are you aware that you’re helping your future enemy?”

  Narfikara, the gunslinger Dwarf, stops looking and appears conflicted now.

  “She’s stronger than you,” Filr’etk says with disgust in his voice. “You’re supposed to lead us, the real Champions, and yet you're pathetically weak.”

  “Hey!” Boomgar shouts. “Shut your trap. You’re talking to our Leader.”

  “Your Leader?” Filr’etk asks. “Your leader? Dwarf, if you haven’t noticed, I am the Champion that you could never be. You’re just as pathetic as your old leader. I can’t wait for a better one to replace him. A slug would be better than him—look at him, a supposed Guide who couldn’t figure out a Trial such as this one. Pathetic.”

  Boomgar takes out a bomb from his Interspatial Ring but Jacob puts a hand on his shoulder.

  “If you have time to talk so much, keep looking. Or I can finish this trial by myself and keep all the rewards,” Nimirea says, turning to look at Jacob, shaking her head as she keeps looking around the room.

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  “Pitied by the Leader of the Dark Champions,” Filr’etk cackles, looking straight at Jacob, his grip on his sword tightening. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

  Narfikara, the Dwarf, sighs, “Filr’etk, leave them be. Show some compassion to those who’ll forever be forgotten by history.”

  “Sometimes it’s better to be forgotten by history,” Nimirea says, interjecting.

  Filr’etk doesn’t say anything else, but he gives Jacob one last toothy smile before speeding around the room, trying to find the key.

  Jacob points at a bench and says, “Nimirea, I’ll take a seat. You’ve already checked that bench. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Nimirea ignores Jacob, zooming from one part of the room to the other.

  Jacob sits on the stone bench by the far corner of the room from the throne.

  “Jacob, what’s the plan?” Zibrek asks, feeling restless. She’s clutching the gun hidden in her cloak so hard her knuckles are popping.

  “Lad, I want to punch that Goblin’s teeth in,” Boomgar says. Even the usually placid Dwarf is a ball of nerves.

  Jacob leans his back against the wall, cracking his neck, and lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper, “I do have a plan. Let them tire each other out. When I speak up, follow my lead, alright?”

  * * *

  The Mithril Golem looks at the room in complete disapproval. He knows that Jacob Cloud is useless, but the fact that he’s revealing himself as a spineless man too makes him sick in his Mithril stomach.

  There’s very little he expected from the boy, but this…

  “He’s not even putting up a fight,” the Mithril Golem feels like punching a wall, but he knows he’d blow up half the mountain if he did so. “My master, Jacob Cloud, is the epitome of honor, pride, and craft. And you… you’re giving up without a fight. You’re not even worthy of whispering my master’s name.”

  * * *

  Jacob observes the attempts of Nimirea and the others, knowing that the key is not in the room.

  The Mithril Golem wouldn’t want Nimirea to succeed. I’m not sure if he’s put any thought in the third trial since he probably expects her to fail here—actually, he most likely has planned something for the third trial as well. There’s a possibility that Nimirea would figure this out given enough time to think.

  But the throne room is extremely big and full of places where the key might be hidden. And the Mithril Golem implicitly expressed his admiration and care for his master’s son. Not even the Leader of the Dark Champions and the two newly-minted Champions dare smash anything in order to speed things up.

  The Golem has filled the place up with useless things, Jacob thinks, looking at many pieces of furniture that look out of place here. Hell, there’s even a bed against one of the walls. He did that for us to think that he hid the key properly. Maybe, Nimirea can justify such a setup by thinking that it would have required two teams to battle and look for the key at the same time. But that’s not what it’s for.

  Jacob glimpses to the first room, the forge.

  It’s all a decoy. The smug bastard confirmed what I thought initially. With the Grimoire, it would just be natural for me to look for things to fix. But the answer is not not fixing the metal. The problem is that it’s already overcharged. He had Nimirea think that the solution is not to touch it, but in reality, the problem is in the room’s layout. All the runes, all the wild, raw Mana in the room is effectively messing with that metal. I would bet my life on the fact that the key is actually inside the molten metal. That’s how the Golem thinks Nimirea’s going to lose. She’ll keep looking, perhaps get mad at me, but she won’t think of going back—it’s very smart, honestly. Props to the big Golem guy. His plan is good.

  Jacob smiles to himself.

  Now, there’s only one problem. I have to get the key and walk all the way up to the throne without Nimirea taking my head off after figuring out what I’m trying to do.