"Y'all would need some killer weapons for this tournament!" Jerry's voice echoed through the hall, filled with pride and enthusiasm. "And I and my minions have been working through the night preparing all that's required!"
He gestured grandly to the wrapped bundles being set down around the hall.
"So come pick 'em up!" His chest puffed out with pride. "Every single weapon forged from the cores you gathered. Every blade, axe, spear, and shield crafted to perfection. Some of my finest work, if I do say so myself!"
The dwarves began unwrapping the bundles, revealing dozens—no, hundreds—of gleaming weapons. Each one crafted with care, infused with beast core essence, designed for the specific fighter who'd requested it.
The mood in the hall shifted immediately. Fear and tension gave way to something else—not quite hope, but determination. Purpose. The sight of all those weapons, tangible proof of their preparation, reminded everyone that they weren't helpless.
