Draith
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Chapter 131 - Mind The Gap
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 14:00:13 +0000 UTCOnce more, the infrastructure around Conflict had expanded since we last visited.
Sticking to the terms of my request, not a single thing had been taken from the surface. However, there was a new entrance on the western edge of the wyvern peaks with a stone road leading down to connect to our old path. At first, I thought the road was a result of magic, it was so finely crafted.
But when Calbern stopped so I could inspect it, I found nearly invisible seams. The amount of precision needed to assemble such a road out of pre-shaped blocks would be useful.
Too bad it was locked behind Conflict’s trials.
Still, we were getting closer to such precision as Inertia continued to improve the tools of her workshop. Not on the same scale though. Not yet.
I climbed back into Fang and we soon made our way down through the new entrance. It was clear it’d been made with guests in mind, with the clearly separated path with glowing lights overhead. Just to either side were a pair of paths the perfect width for the rollerbugs, though they sat empty.
Was Conflict looking to entice others to visit? That seemed like it could be dangerous. Especially if they weren’t prepared to fight murderous rollerbugs. Would need to make sure people were informed of the dangers. Doubted I could stop Conflict from luring people entirely, not without a lot more strength than I could bring to bear.
For the moment, just making the journey underneath the ever-present storm would keep people away, unless they were on Egerta’s level. And if that was the case, I wasn’t too worried about people on her level in the first place.
When we passed through the heavy doors into the factory floor, I was surprised to see the place lay mostly silent. While there were a few of the rollerbugs moving about, most of them sat to the sides in neat rows between the massive machines that assembled them.
Conflict was standing on its own at the head of the stairs, its orange eyes shifting to follow us as we drew closer. It otherwise remained still as Calbern drew Fang to a stop in front of it.
Together we disembarked, neither of us needing to say anything as we swept our gazes around the room.
“You have returned. I had thought the storm might have broken your resolve,” Conflict said, turning to descend the stairs with its usual clamor, the chains on its back swinging about it as it descended. “It is good to see you are not so weak as that, fresh ingot.”
“Was busy. Lots of stuff that needs to get done,” I said, though I knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Some of the roadwork I’d done could’ve been handled by Conflict’s bots. Not that I’d realized just how high quality their roads could be.
“Ever it is, with those who ply the trade of Empire,” Conflict said as it came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, turning to watch us.
I wanted to object to his comment about empire. After all, I was just trying to defend the people who’d been put under my protection. That said, I doubted Conflict would care about the nuance.
Instead, my attention moved past it.
The images on the doors had shifted since the last time we were there. As had the number of doors, when I looked closer. There were only four doors at the moment. Two of them were clearly meant for us. The door to Conflict’s left had a picture of me bent over a workbench, with a smattering of tools lying around it.
On the right, Calbern’s door, depicted him…
I squinted as I did my best to understand what I was seeing. He was in the air, having leapt past some sort of wall. There was a giant version of the metal devil behind him, its face taking up a solid third of his door.
Then it all clicked into place. He was jumping out of the top of the scrapheap arena. When he did, he’d encountered a machine devil that must’ve been five times as tall as he was. It was hard to tell, since all I could see of the thing was its giant screaming face.
Our trials had definitely been different.
“Giant machine devil, huh?” I asked Calbern, glancing in his direction.
“Quite so, master Percival,” he replied, inclining his head in my direction. “Shall I take yours to mean you fashioned a number of tools to face the beasts?”
“Not exactly to face them,” I said, still studying Calbern’s door. “Big guy said our paths would be based on what we did… so… I made tools.”
“An excellent deduction. I admit, I was seeking a worthy challenge to test myself upon.” Calbern’s gaze shifted to Conflict. “Which I hope to continue.”
“You both forged paths of worth,” Conflict ground out, shifting its gaze to the doors. “Your first steps have been laid, but neither path is close to completion.”
“Would be a little surprising to complete my path on the second trial,” I said, stepping towards my door while giving Conflict a wide berth.
“It would be rather disappointing as well, wouldn’t you agree?” Calbern asked as he walked around the far side of the knowledge demon.
“Maybe a bit,” I agreed, stopping just in front of the door. “Ready?”
“Indeed I am,” Calbern said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Together we leaned forward, pressing our hands against the door and ‘stepping through’.
I found myself atop a narrow mountain peak. To my left sat a workbench, covered with tools. On the right, there was a forge, throwing off enough heat to counter the cool air whipping by.
“Reach the highest Peak!” Conflict’s voice shook the air, blasting away the clouds around me.
As the clouds peeled away, I realized the mountain I stood upon was only one of dozens. It actually looked familiar. I was pretty sure they were based on some of the mountains further west, not far past the Frost Riven’s territory. The lack of any valleys between them made it hard to be sure though.
It seemed I’d been deposited on the lowest peak, though the closest ones were only a little above me. Close enough I could probably hit them with a quick toss of a stone. Was a shame we weren’t allowed to use magic. Would be pretty easy to just shape a few bridges.
I looked back to the workbench and forge, then to the small supply of materials at my disposal. Making a glider wouldn’t be easy. I could do it, if I took enough cord and wove it together.
That… could take a while though.
When I picked up the cord to test it out, I discovered that I didn’t really have the skill to weave it tight enough to serve as a wing. My test also revealed that I didn’t have infinite supplies this time. At least, the cord didn’t get replenished like it had in the previous trial.
Testing with an ingot of steel revealed it wasn’t restocked either.
So… I didn’t just have to make it across, I needed to do so with limited resources.
Was grateful for the challenge. It was exactly what I needed to keep busy while I processed everything I’d learned from Esbee.
Looking across the way, I attempted to gauge the distance to the nearest peak. Maybe fifty feet across and ten or so up. As I was inspecting it, I noticed what might’ve been a crate sitting in a lopsided spot on the top. So, if I could get across, I might get more supplies to work with.
My first thought was a crossbow with the cord attached to serve as a line. Then I could climb up the peak.
Only I had no idea how to make a crossbow. I understood the basics, like needing a lot of tension, and having some way to wind it back, but that was about it. I also wasn’t sure how I’d secure it to the other peak.
Moving over to the workbench, I started sketching out ideas. At least the paper seemed to be unlimited, since every time I needed a new page, there was always one there.
I spent several hours coming up with designs that might work. A crossbow that was closer to a ballista was my top contender. Did have a lot of longer lengths of wood to work with.
Setting the design to the side, I tried to step back and consider the problem from the beginning. The goal wasn’t just to reach the next peak. It was to reach the highest peak. And to do so in a way that fit my path. For that, I’d need to bring equipment with me. Preferably without smashing it.
Hours continued to pass as I worked on more and more designs, not all of them for the immediate problem. As I worked the stack of paper grew alongside me.
It was only as a gust of wind nearly sent the stack flying that I stopped to look at it.
“Huh,” I said, staring at the pages. Then I set them to the side, placing several ingots atop them to keep them in place as I worked on my next design.
The box was simple enough, and I didn’t worry about perfecting the design before building it. It used up a solid three-quarters of the wood I had at my disposal, but I’d kept each length uncut so I could take it apart to re-use, if I needed to. Then I loaded the pages into the box until it was full.
I stared at the literal thousands of pages, then back to the workbench where the short stack of paper remained. Yep, definitely had all the paper I could ever need.
After a bit of experimentation, I discovered paper wasn’t the only resource I had unlimited amounts of. Both the graphite in the pencil and my own saliva proved to be without end. The second I’d only figured out after realizing I hadn’t grown thirsty after hours near the forge and I’d licked my lips to find I was still able to wet them.
I spent a couple hours going through my designs again, thinking about ways I might be able to incorporate any of the extra resources I’d ‘discovered’. Only to look down at my feet. Then over to the other peaks. Then out to the sky. There was plenty of material in the peaks themselves, though that seemed less useful. It did make me reconsider the problem though. Maybe my habit of dropping mountains was influencing me, but I started considering if I could just… make it so I was already on the highest peak.
After a few minutes, I decided that without access to either my magic or explosive compounds I didn’t possess, I wasn’t going to be knocking down the rest of the mountains.
It’d been a fun diversion though. And it’d made me circle back to my original thought about using a glider. Paper adhered with spit wasn’t going to get me anywhere. But a kite…
Using the cord and paper to fashion a kite was surprisingly easy. Making one big enough to support a grappling hook was more challenging but mostly a matter of persistence. There was a lot of torn paper in the box by the time I successfully had the kite in the air, a crude grappling hook dangling beneath it.
I dropped the kite onto the nearest peak, a smile on my face. Then the wind picked up and nearly ripped the entire thing out of my control, smashing the kite into the side of the distant mountain.
Hauling it back in, I discovered I’d lost half the cord that’d been holding the sheets in place during the attempt. With my cord being far too precious to continuously lose, I replaced it with little loops of twisted steel. Then I redesigned the grappling hook so I could drop it with a tug of a second cord.
The extra cord actually helped steer the kite better, but the release mechanism for the grappling hook proved to be finicky, sometimes dropping the hook before the kite had even made it halfway to the other peak, and other times not dropping the grappling hook at all.
It took me over two dozen attempts to get the grappling hook to finally snag on the distant peak.
I nearly lost the kite to a gust of wind when I pumped my arm in victory. Luckily, I’d secured it to my wrist, so it just ended up pulling me over, leaving me staring down over the edge.
“Glad no one was around to see that,” I muttered to myself before pushing to my feet and reeling the now damaged kite back.
Dusting myself off, I tested the grappling hook repeatedly. When it held, I secured it to the anvil, which was itself secured to the mountain. Wasn’t too worried about my starting end coming loose. Then I took the cord attached to the kite and re-purposed it, turning it into a rough harness. In theory, if the grappling hook came loose, it’d at least give me a chance to not go plummeting to my… well, not death. Couldn’t die in these trials, only complete them or give up, from what I’d read. Still, they could get pretty unpleasant.
So after securing myself I started making my way across, my legs crossed over the cord while my torso was kept in place by the harness, keenly aware of the emptiness beneath every time the harness creaked or shifted.
I tried to keep my weight off it as I slowly shimmied my way across the gap. Finally, I bumped my head against the far peak. Letting out a breath of relief, I turned, gripping onto the edge. Only to discover I couldn’t quite pull myself up. The harness was holding me in place.
“Rags and oil,” I muttered, shifting my feet until I had a good grip with each foot. Only then did I untie the harness from the cord and climb up onto the second peak. I was happy to find that the crate I’d spotted did in fact hold a decent amount of supplies. Was a bit less happy to discover it was guarded by a metal devil.
It let out a screech as I grunted in annoyance. I hadn’t brought a weapon.
