The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He? - Chapter 292

Chapter 292: Chapter 292 – What’s this Forgeheart Crucible you spoke of?
The path the guard led them through wound deeper into the heart of the dwarven capital, and with every step, the air seemed to thicken under the weight of heat and industry. Waves of warmth rolled off the endless forges lining both sides of the stone boulevard, each forge glowing like a miniature sun trapped inside a cavern. The heavy clang of hammer against metal reverberated through the ground, humming up their boots and settling faintly in their bones, as if the entire city lived and breathed through its steel.

Dwarves moved about with natural precision—broad-shouldered figures coated in soot, their braided beards tied back so they wouldn’t brush too close to the flames. Some paused mid-swing to glance at the outsiders walking by; others leaned subtly toward their companions, murmuring in gravelly tones while pretending not to stare. Sparks burst from anvils in showers of gold, floating momentarily before fading into drifting embers around Luca’s group.

Aurelia, who had been studying every glowing forge and every dwarf with quiet fascination, eventually stepped a little closer to Luca. Her gaze flicked from his profile to the blazing furnaces around them, her curiosity finally pushing its way past the oppressive heat.

“Hey…” she murmured, her voice soft yet threaded with anticipation, “what’s this Forgeheart Crucible you spoke of?”

Her question caused a subtle ripple among the group. Kyle slowed his steps, brows knitting; Selena lifted her eyes from the molten streams to fix them on Luca; Lilliane tilted her head slightly while walking, fingers brushing nervously over the ends of her hair; Sylthara’s elegant stride didn’t falter, but even she turned just enough for her violet eyes to settle on him.

Luca kept walking for a moment, his expression unreadable as the orange forge-light played along the edge of his jawline. Only after a few breaths did he allow a faint, knowing smile to curve across his lips.

“The Forgeheart Crucible…” he began, his voice low and steady as he kept his gaze fixed ahead, “is exactly what it sounds like—forging your heart in a crucible.”

Kyle let out a loud exhale, throwing up his hands dramatically as his footsteps quickened to come back to Luca’s side.

“Oh come on,” he groaned, impatience written across his entire posture. “Stop speaking in riddles and just tell us already!”

Luca couldn’t help the brief chuckle that escaped him, the sound warm despite the surrounding heat.

“It’s a trial,” he said, rolling his shoulders slightly as he walked, as if the memory of it settled somewhere in his muscles. “A holy dwarven trial.”

Selena, who had been studying the guarded expressions of the dwarves around them, narrowed her eyes. The light from the nearest furnace glinted against her icy-blue irises.

“If it’s just a trial,” she said slowly, “then why did the guards react the way they did?”

This time, Luca drew in a long breath, letting the heat burn through his lungs before releasing it. His expression sobered.

“Because it’s not just any trial,” he replied, voice dipping lower, the seriousness in his tone pulling all of them in. “It’s likely the hardest challenge you’ve faced so far. For the dwarves, it holds importance that is… difficult to put into simple words. To them, this trial is sacred—second perhaps only to how much the Goddess means to the Holy Kingdom.”

His words seemed to weigh down the atmosphere further. Even among the constant pounding of metal, something in the group shifted—an unspoken awareness settling over each of them.

Kyle’s voice, when it came, was quieter and tinged with caution. “What exactly makes it so important to the dwarves?”

“If you succeed,” Luca said, “you earn the right to request a weapon, artifact, or armor from the dwarves for the rest of your life. And more than that… the dwarf who oversees your trial forms a permanent bond with you—a life-long oath between craftsman and warrior.”

A hush fell over the group.

Selena paused mid-step, her eyes widening slightly.

Lilliane’s lips parted, her breath catching.

Kyle’s fists slowly tightened, not out of fear, but out of dawning excitement.

Sylthara, for once, looked genuinely intrigued.

Confidence—steady and bright—began to rise in each of them.

The group continued forward through the sweltering streets until Sylthara finally spoke, her tone cool but edged with curiosity. “If it’s so important… then why haven’t we ever heard of it?”

Selena followed with a quiet nod, her expression softened by caution. “Luca… you said it’s sacred. So why isn’t it common knowledge? Trials like these should be legendary.”

Kyle shrugged, but even he leaned in slightly, hungry for the explanation.

And Lilliane—who had been listening in small breaths—finally stepped closer, her voice soft but steady. “Yes… why?”

Luca slowed, his steps dragging just enough for the others to feel the shift. His brows furrowed, forging a shadow over his eyes as he finally exhaled.

“Because,” he said, “no one knows about it anymore. The trial… stopped happening hundreds of years ago.”

They all froze mid-step.

The heat of the forges still rolled over them, but for a heartbeat, the entire city seemed to go strangely quiet around their little group.

Lilliane’s eyes widened, her fingers instinctively curling into the sleeves of her robe as she whispered, “Why…?”

“Nobody knows,” Luca replied, shaking his head slowly. “I only know of it because I found it in an old book in the Valentine estate.”

His gaze lowered for just a heartbeat.

No. I know it from the game…

But that’s not something I can say.

And even in the game, I never learned why it ended. The protagonist never needed the trial. Aiden had every resource gifted to him. Even now, I wasn’t originally planning to challenge it—I had other ways to get what I needed. But my friends…

Luca’s hand brushed against the hilt of his saber, an unconscious gesture revealing the weight of the choice he had made.

Even as a gamer, I could never figure out why the trial disappeared from history… or why it suddenly returned when ‘he’ challenged it. Guess I am about to find it out now!

He pushed the thoughts aside and resumed walking. The others followed, though their faces were marked with the worry and intrigue his answer had ignited.

Kyle forced a loud exhale and rolled his shoulders as if trying to physically shake off the tension. “Hmph, whatever! If the trial’s back, then I’ll make sure I win it,” he declared confidently, fire flashing in his eyes.

Luca looked over his shoulder at him, a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes tugging at his lips.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” he murmured. “You’ll either walk out of this trial as a different person… or you won’t be able to wield a weapon ever again.”

Kyle blinked, then scoffed as if Luca had made an exaggerated joke.

Selena’s brows lifted, but she dismissed the warning with a composed shrug.

Sylthara tilted her head, amused.

Lilliane paled slightly—but even she forced a small, nervous smile.

The only one who truly reacted was the dwarven guard leading them.

He slowed his pace, turning just enough that the forge-light carved sharp shadows across his face. His eyes—dark, deep, and weathered—locked onto Luca’s.

“I didn’t expect you to understand the severity of it,” he said, his voice holding a rare note of respect.

Luca only nodded once.

They walked on until the narrow paths of forges and smithies suddenly widened into an enormous clearing—and the group’s breaths caught collectively.

Before them rose a colossal structure carved directly into the mountain rock. Towers of blackened steel and stone spiraled upward, intercut with glowing channels of molten metal running like fiery veins through the architecture. Massive archways framed the entrance, decorated with weapons of forgotten eras—axes the height of giants, spears tipped with meteoric iron, shields etched with dwarven runes that pulsed faintly with ancient power.

It was a stadium.

A grand arena built not for battle, but for something much deeper.

Seats carved straight into the encircling stone cliffs rose upward in layered terraces, enough to host tens of thousands of dwarves. Each seat bore soot stains, scorch marks, and the lingering aura of history. At the center, far below, the circular ground where the trials took place shimmered faintly with heat—like a forge awaiting its next flame.

The air thrummed with old power.

The kind of power that came from centuries of sweat, struggle, and unbreakable dwarven pride.

Aurelia stepped forward unconsciously, one hand lifting to brush loose strands of hair from her face as her eyes widened, the golden reflection of the arena’s light dancing in them.

Selena’s lips parted for once without a cold remark; her expression softened in genuine awe.

Kyle murmured something under his breath—something reverent, almost childlike.

Lilliane pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed by the sheer scale.

Sylthara smiled, slow and almost predatory, as if the challenge before them had awakened something she had been longing for.

The guard straightened his spine, pride swelling in his stance as he looked back at them.

“Welcome,” he said, lifting a hand toward the entrance, “to the place where only the bravest walk in, and only the worthy walk out.”

He took a step forward, voice deepening.

“Let’s go inside.”

As Luca thought , Why was the trial returned for you Brother ‘Vincent’?