Grin Rustfang's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

Grin placed his first charge on the wobbling tower at dawn. His hands stayed steady as he packed the powder into the crack, just like the diagrams showed. He lit the fuse and walked back to his marked line. The blast cracked through the morning air, sharp and clean. When the smoke cleared, a chunk of stone lay exactly where he'd calculated it would fall. He checked his journal and grinned. He spent the next three days placing charges with growing confidence. Each blast brought down stone exactly where he planned. The tower shrank in controlled stages, piece by piece, until only rubble remained. Word spread through the brewery and beyond. Goblins came to watch his work, nodding as they saw the precision. One morning, a group arrived carrying timber and decorations. They built a small stage at the training ground and hung banners covered in blast symbols and flame patterns. An elder goblin stepped forward with a scroll. She called Grin to the stage and read his achievements aloud—the measurements, the clean blasts, the wobbling tower reduced to nothing but organized rubble. She handed him a certificate stamped with the official seal of Greenhaven's demolition guild. Grin held the scroll in both hands and looked at the goblins gathered around. The ancient art lived in him now, proven by practice and recognized by those who understood. He had earned his place among the masters. The elder goblin reached into a leather bag and pulled out something else. Bronze medallions gleamed in the morning light, each one stamped with marks that showed different skills. She placed them on a wooden easel beside the stage, arranging them in a row. Each medallion represented a level of timing mastery—from basic fuse work to the precise calculations needed for controlled demolition. The elder tapped the third medallion from the left. "This one is yours," she said. "You brought down that tower in stages, each blast timed perfectly to the next." Grin stepped forward and lifted the medallion from the easel. The bronze felt warm in his palm. It wasn't just a prize—it was proof that his work with the clockwork fern and the crater measurements had paid off. The gathered goblins cheered as he pinned the medallion to his vest. Grin looked at the stage, the certificate, the medallion, and the goblins who had come to witness his success. Greenhaven had given him everything he needed to grow, and now it celebrated what he had become. The ancient art wasn't just alive in him—it was recognized, official, and ready to grow even stronger. Three goblins approached after the ceremony ended. They carried something wrapped in canvas between them and set it down near the training ground's edge. When they pulled the cover away, Grin saw a fountain built from carved stone blocks. Water poured from the top in frozen arcs that looked like an explosion caught mid-blast. The streams split and curved exactly like debris flying from a perfect charge. The elder goblin gestured toward it. "We built this to remember what you showed us," she said. "Demolition doesn't have to be wild and dangerous. It can be beautiful when it's done right." The water splashed into a circular basin below, constant and controlled. Grin walked around the fountain, watching how the carved stone captured the exact moment when energy turned solid rock into movement. His journey had started with dusty books and wild ideas. Now Greenhaven itself held permanent proof of what controlled chaos could create. He touched the wet stone and felt the cool spray on his face. The ancient art would keep growing, blast by careful blast, until everyone understood what the old masters had always known.