Yamino's POV
Day 6
It's the sixth day.
I tried forging a weapon again. Different shape. Different mold. More pressure. More heat. But as expected…
It failed.
The blade cracked even before it cooled. The handle melted. The core didn't stabilize.
"Tch… damn it!"
I gritted my teeth, throwing the warped hilt aside. Sparks scattered across the floor of the forge like the remnants of my hope.
Only four days left.
No—three and a half now.
I can't give up. I won't give up.
Day 7
Still no results.
Ore after ore… melted, hammered, enchanted, reforged—and still… nothing. Every piece shatters before it even solidifies. They're not strong enough. Not ready.
I've destroyed so many materials, the air itself feels heavy with failure. The floor is coated in colorful powder now—shimmering like ash from a dream burned too soon.
I was supposed to be better than him—than the me who failed before.
Day 8
Finally… some good news.
The miners found something—small iron ores. Not high-grade. But iron is iron.
A start.
The problem? There's barely enough to fill a single bucket.
Still, it's something.
I even started melting the pickaxes I gave to the ghost workers. Reclaim the scraps. I don't care. It's all fuel now.
"I'm not going to lose to time," I said aloud, alone in the forge, my own voice my only ally.
Day 9
Bad news.
All those weapons I tried to forge?
They break the moment I touch them. Snap. Shatter. Crumble.
As if they're rejecting me.
Or maybe… I'm rejecting them?
I'm missing something.
A key ingredient. A catalyst. Or maybe… maybe the weapon isn't meant to be made for me.
Maybe it has to be made with me.
But what does that even mean?
Day 10
Last night… something happened.
At exactly midnight.
I wasn't planning anything. I was just—done. Frustrated. Angry.
So I threw every last ore and every piece of metal I had into the forge. No method. No technique. Just rage and exhaustion.
I didn't care anymore.
The heat flared. The mix started pulling in everything around it—pulling in magic, the air, the heat… and then…
The workers.
A group of a hundred had returned with more materials—but the moment they stepped inside…
They were sucked in. Instantly.
Gone.
"Stop!" I screamed. "Don't come any closer!"
But they didn't even scream. Their bodies just vanished—devoured by the forge.
I don't know what came over me then.
Maybe it was madness. Maybe instinct.
I grabbed the hammers with both hands… and I beat it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until the molten mass started to scream back—until it stopped glowing red and turned into blinding light.
And when it cooled… two strange objects remained.
Two shining metal boxes.
They hum when I touch them. Like they're alive.
I don't know what they are yet. But I have a feeling...
A terrifying, exciting feeling.
These aren't weapons.
They're keys.
And today, when the Game of Wars begins…
I'll find out what they unlock.
.
.
Yamino's POV
I've decided.
I'll call them the Special Boxes.
They're clearly different from everything else I've forged—or rather, everything else I've failed to forge. I don't know what they are exactly, but I feel it. These boxes aren't just objects. They're answers.
But now's not the time to figure them out.
Because…
The Game…
…is about to begin.
I sit down on the dungeon throne. My heart is steady, but my breath slows. I close my eyes.
And the next thing I know—
I'm somewhere else.
I blink.
A blinding white sky above, yet no sun. The ground beneath is flat, stretching endlessly. Cold stone. Broken pillars. Crumbling statues of ancient kings and beasts with faces worn by time.
And people.
Hundreds. No—thousands.
No—millions.
The air buzzes with tension. Everyone looks around in disbelief. Some are dressed in cloaks. Some wear battle armor. Some wear school uniforms. Others… pajamas?
Different worlds. Different eras.
I wasn't the only one dragged here.
Then, a voice—mechanical, clear, and thundering in all directions—speaks directly into our minds.
> [Hello players. Welcome to the Game of Wars. Your first game is War of Babylon.]
The name alone makes some people flinch. I don't blame them.
> [Game Rules:]
1. Survive.
2. Kill and win.
3. Kill everyone.
[No one will die here… except the last 100.]
[The top ten players will have a wish granted.]
[The 1st ranked player will receive a mystery prize.]
[Warning: You cannot use your personal powers here.]
[Game begins in… 10.]
I smirk and breathe out through my nose.
"Heh," I mutter, almost laughing, "Same as those memories."
Same cruel voice. Same twisted rules. Same impossible setup.