M.S. Davidson
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44. A Calculation of Hammers
🕑 Added 2025-09-05 16:00:11 +0000 UTCThe golem lumbered forward like a drunk bulldozer, each grinding step echoing through the chamber with the enthusiasm of wet concrete. My heart hammered against my ribs as it gripped its hammer in both hands, raising it for what had to be the most telegraphed horizontal swing I had ever seen.
The attack was so slow I could have taken a nap between the windup and follow-through. Bravery didn't even bother sending up warning flares. I took a casual step back, watching the massive weapon whoosh past with all the threat of a butterfly.
It followed up with the same sluggish strike, stone arms straining under the hammer's weight like it was made of disappointment.
"Right," I muttered, more annoyed than afraid. "A trial for initiates."
I circled the golem with the confidence of someone who'd just discovered their opponent was an aggressive statue. "Am I supposed to just smash it?"
Stepping inside its next telegraphed swing, I raised my sledgehammer and brought it down on its leg with everything I had.
CRACK.
Sharp energy erupted from the impact, red light rippling through the golem like electric veins. Bravery's warning flared just as it toppled to one knee with surprising grace, a soft chime ringing through the chamber like a dinner bell.
I blinked at the now-motionless figure. "What, that's it?"
My eyes flicked to the door, where the exit panel glowed invitingly. Was that seriously all it took? I'd expected more from a Power trial—maybe some actual danger, a few near-death experiences, the usual Ark stuff.
Then a thought struck me, and I grinned like I'd just figured out a secret.
Was the difficulty based on how hard I hit the anvil? I'd hit it pretty hard, but I was definitely holding back. Time for round two.
Returning to the anvil, I hefted the hammer and channeled as much mana into my arms as they could handle without exploding. This time, I brought it down with everything.
The clang didn't just resonate in the room—it was like detonating a bomb. Sound became a physical force, blasting outward in a tangible wave that slid me back a full meter. My teeth rattled, and I was pretty sure I tasted copper.
The golem surged to life with unsettling smoothness, rising like something had just plugged it back into a power grid. This time, Bravery didn't just warn me—it screamed.
Something was very different.
The stone giant closed the gap faster than anything of that size had a right to move, its hammer whistling through the air with alarming speed. I dodged back just in time, feeling the displaced air kiss my face with murderous intent.
Before I could recover, it stepped forward with mechanical precision, bringing its hammer down in a vertical arc that promised to turn me into smooth paste.
"Oh, shit!" I threw myself sideways as the weapon crashed onto the floor. The impact sent spiderweb cracks racing across the stone, accompanied by a shockwave that I felt in my soul.
My bones vibrated like tuning forks.
This wasn't a training dummy anymore. This thing wanted me dead—or at least very flat. That last hit would have turned me into abstract art, and not the good kind.
"What the hell is going on?" I muttered, watching the stone nightmare lumber toward me with renewed purpose.
The golem didn't hesitate, closing the distance with grinding determination. I kept moving, circling just out of range while my brain frantically tried to formulate something resembling a plan that didn't involve me becoming pink mist.
Sighing, I let it get closer, hammer at the ready. If it kept those slow, telegraphed swings, maybe I could meet its attack head-on and push through its guard.
As the horizontal strike came around, I swung with everything I had, aiming to deflect the blow and show this oversized paperweight who was boss.
The impact was blinding.
White light exploded across my vision as my boots skidded against stone, spinning me like a top. The clash numbed my arms from fingertips to shoulders, leaving them feeling like they belonged to someone else entirely.
But the golem was reeling too, its movements sluggish as it recovered from our violent dance.
I laughed despite myself, shaking feeling back into my hands. "I really need to solve this shoe problem."
With a quick mental command, I stored my armor and swapped it for standard linen clothes. The transformation was instant—heavy leather disappeared, replaced by comfortable fabric that actually let me move.
"Hope Dara doesn't get mad," I muttered.
If she were watching, she kept her opinions to herself. The golem lumbered toward me again, hammer ready for another round of 'let's flatten the human.'
But now, without the stiff armor restricting every movement, I felt lighter, more connected to the ground. My feet stuck to the cold stone as if they belonged there. Plus, if that hammer caught me, armor wouldn't do much except make me a slightly better-protected pancake.
And I could feel it now—the air thick with mana, crackling with potential energy just waiting to be used.
Grinning, I tightened my grip and waited for the golem's swing. As the horizontal arc swept toward me, I met it head-on with every ounce of force I could muster.
This time, I held my ground better. I still slid backward, boots scraping against stone, but I stayed upright. My arms burned from the impact, vision blurring momentarily, but I'd won the trade.
The golem staggered, its hammer knocked wide, leaving a gap in its defenses that I could drive a truck through.
I dashed forward, slipping past its guard and swinging hard. My hammer connected squarely between its legs—a hit that would have ended any fight with a human opponent very differently.
Red energy exploded through its body like lightning through a lightning rod. The golem toppled backward, crashing to the ground with a sound like a building collapsing. A bone-shaking gong rang out, the note so deep I felt it in my chest.
Breathing hard, I stepped back, staring at the motionless figure. "Well," I panted, "guess that's one way to do it."
Feeling smugger than I probably deserved, I started for the door. But as I moved, that nagging voice in the back of my head—the one that had been suggesting spectacularly stupid things—spoke up.
Sure, that was more challenging than round one, but it was still over too quickly. My gaze drifted back to the anvil, and a truly terrible idea began forming.
I stopped mid-stride, turning back to face the innocent-looking block of metal. A reckless plan that had become Bravery’s signature was taking shape—the type that would either work brilliantly or kill me in creative ways.
There was so much mana in the air it practically buzzed against my skin. Maybe I could hold Valor for longer here, use the ambient energy to offset the cost. Dara had said she'd pull us out if we were defeated... hopefully that meant before I got turned into modern art.
"Well, dumb ideas seem to be the theme of the week," I muttered, activating Valor.
Mana rushed into the rune like water through a broken dam, but the ambient energy in the room pushed back against the vacuum. I could feel it—like a tide fighting the undertow. Not sustainable forever, but I had more time than usual before face-planting unconscious.
Grinning like a madman, I hefted the hammer and brought it down on the anvil with everything Valor could provide.
The explosion was instantaneous.
A shockwave of raw energy ripped through the chamber, launching me backward like I'd been shot from a cannon. I slammed into the wall with a thud that should have shattered every bone in my body, but Valor absorbed most of the impact, leaving me dazed but inexplicably intact.
Then I heard it—the grinding roar of stone awakening with murderous intent.
My eyes snapped to the golem as it pushed itself upright, red runes blazing across its surface like veins of molten lava. And now it was sprinting.
"Uh oh," I breathed, heart hammering against my ribs.
Valor screamed at me to move, and I obeyed without thought. I leaped aside, moving faster than physics should have allowed, the air seeming to part around me like I was cutting through reality itself.
I landed in a controlled skid, spinning to watch the golem's hammer obliterate the wall where I'd been standing. The impact left a crater you could park a car in, and chunks of stone rained down like angry hail.
"This was a mistake!" I shouted, already pivoting toward the door.
My steps carried me forward with unnerving speed, each stride propelling me like I'd been fired from a very enthusiastic slingshot. In just a few paces, I was vaulting over the anvil, making a desperate break for the exit.
Then inspiration struck like lightning in a brainstorm.
I tried to stop, but momentum had other plans. It was more of a skid-hop-stumble combo that ended with me standing on top of the anvil in two completely ungraceful steps.
The golem was on me instantly, hammer swinging in a horizontal arc from the left. Valor flared, energy burning through my legs as I launched into the air, executing a backflip so smooth it belonged in a martial arts movie.
I landed just as the golem brought its hammer around for a vertical strike that would have turned the anvil—and me—into abstract sculpture. My foot slipped on the angled surface, and I teetered like a drunk tightrope walker.
Panicked, I shoved more mana into my feet than my pathways could safely handle. Blue energy exploded from beneath me, rocketing me backward as the hammer came crashing down.
I hit the ground hard, sliding across stone and feeling every bump along the way. Gritting my teeth against the scrape-burn across my back, I looked up just in time to see the golem's hammer collide with the anvil.
The sound that followed redefined the concept of loud.
A chime so deep and resonant it seemed to shake the fundamental forces of reality erupted from the impact. The room vibrated, energy exploding outward in visible waves. For a split second, everything froze—even the dust particles hung suspended like they were waiting for permission to move.
Then, the red runes on the golem flared brilliantly and cracked like eggshells.
"Uh... did I just break it?" I muttered, half-expecting it to keep coming anyway.
An intense red explosion of energy rippled out from the collapsing golem just as I sat up, knocking me back down and introducing my skull to the stone floor with unnecessary enthusiasm.
CRACK.
Stars exploded across my vision, but I was grinning like an idiot as I forced myself upright. "Okay, that was definitely a mistake," I said to the empty chamber. "But hey—it worked."
I struggled to my feet, every muscle filing formal complaints, and started toward the crumbled remains when a sound behind me made my blood freeze.
"Hmph."
I spun around to find Dara standing there with the casual confidence of someone who'd been watching the entire spectacular disaster unfold. Before I could react, she flicked her finger into my forehead with surgical precision.
Valor fizzled out like a candle in a hurricane; the torrent of mana feeding it evaporated instantly. The sudden stillness felt almost alien after the chaos.
"Whoa, how'd you do that?" I asked, still catching my breath and probably concussed.
She smirked with the satisfaction of someone who'd just solved an amusing puzzle. "I'll give you a hint—if you tell me how you figured out the activation tiers. And I'll give you something extra if you tell me how you knew to make it hit the anvil."
I blinked at her, caught completely off guard, then shrugged. "I didn't figure anything out. Honestly, I just played a lot of video games growing up. The first hit felt like tutorial mode, so I figured pushing harder would unlock the real challenge."
"Video games?" Her head tilted with genuine curiosity.
"Uh, simulations. Interactive stories where you control characters doing things like this trial," I explained, stumbling over the cultural translation. "As for the anvil trick? That wasn't genius—it had a hammer, I had a hammer. Basic question: what happens if I get it to hit the anvil instead of me?"
"A calculation of hammers?" Dara raised an eyebrow like I'd just proposed a new branch of mathematics.
"More like pattern recognition," I said. "It felt obvious once I thought about it."
She stared at me with the expression of someone trying to decode an alien language. "No one has completely solved this trial in a very long time. For someone who claims to be stumbling around, you certainly have a habit of landing on your feet."
I shrugged again. "Lucky, I guess?"
Dara sighed, shaking her head like she was resigning herself to the universe's sense of humor. She turned toward the pile of dust where the golem had been and waved her hand over it with practiced ease.
"Your Valor Seal will not obey you until it's fully bound to your soul," she said, her tone shifting to serious instructor mode. "Until then, it'll keep burning your mana like a house fire. I would strongly advise against using it unless absolutely necessary. Running out of mana during a burn can scorch your soul—and that's not something a few healing potions will fix."
As she spoke, the anvil melted into the ground like ice cream on hot pavement. In its place rose a small bonsai tree, its gnarled branches tipped with soft golden-yellow leaves that sparkled like captured sunlight. The tree radiated ancient energy—the kind that made you want to whisper in its presence.
Dara stepped forward and snapped off a branch with the reverence of someone handling a holy relic, cradling it like it might dissolve if she breathed wrong.
"This tree is known as Titan's Root. It has a profound effect on mana pathways," she said, offering me the branch. "Most wait to consume something like this—it will make your path to Adept much more difficult, but far more effective." She paused, her smile carrying secrets. "If you're dead-set on binding Valor, steep it into tea and drink it. Then meditate. Do this immediately—its leaves won't survive a portal, not even in your mana sanctum."
Her grin widened with mischief. "And when you're done, perhaps your familiar will enjoy chewing on the stick."
"Thanks, Dara."
I blinked, and she was simply gone—like she'd never existed at all.
Sighing, I looked down at the precious twig and sniffed it. The scent reminded me of cardamom mixed with something indefinably more. Shrugging, I headed for the exit, the doors sliding open with barely a thought.
Outside, a small crowd had gathered like I was some kind of exotic zoo exhibit. Red was front and center, tail creating its own weather system, and even Cass had finally shown up.
"No way... You solved it?" Cass ran up and delivered a shoulder punch that would have knocked me over if I hadn’t still been riding the post-Valor high. "Of course you did."
I glanced around, noticing several initiates staring at me like I'd just performed actual magic. Which, to be fair, I kind of had.
"They can't believe it, but I sure can," Cass beamed, practically vibrating with excitement. "After everything I've seen you do." Her grin threatened to split her face. "I think the last person to fully solve the Trial of Power was Maris-fucking-Valerian herself!"
"Really? I mean, it wasn't that—" I stopped myself. Saying it wasn't hard felt wrong, especially since I'd nearly become wall decoration multiple times. "Hey, do you know how I can make tea?"
"Tea?" Cass blinked, then her eyes locked onto the twig in my hand.
Her pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates.
She spun to the group of initiates with the urgency of someone announcing the apocalypse. "Does anyone have something that can hold water? A kettle, maybe?"
A Floran man reached into his backpack and produced a small copper pot without hesitation. "I've got this. What's it for?"
"Titan's Root," Cass said, her voice carrying the reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts.
The man's eyes went wide enough to qualify as a medical condition as he handed over the pot like he was passing along the crown jewels.
"Okay, now we just need water and a way to heat it..."
"Cass," I interrupted, grabbing her arm and steering her toward the pavilion. Red padded along behind us, wearing his signature goofy grin like it was painted on. "Water's right there."
I gestured to the cascade flowing into the central pool.
"Oh." Cass grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, there's just too much to be excited about right now."
I fished several lantern orbs from my earring and crouched by the pool, scooping crystal-clear water into the copper pot. Placing it on the glowing orbs, I adjusted their internal runes until they radiated heat without threatening to explode and take half the pavilion with them.
The water began steaming almost instantly, and I realized with a start that a week ago, using three orbs simultaneously would have drained me completely. Now? I barely felt the strain.
Progress was a beautiful thing.
Grinning, I steeped the branch in the hot water, watching golden leaves dissolve completely, leaving the liquid a faint, shimmering yellow that seemed to glow from within.
"Excited about more than this?" I asked, motioning to the brewing tea. "Is that why you were late?"
Cass glanced around like she was about to share state secrets, excitement bubbling over. "I think I've found a Seal candidate."
"Oh, shit!" I grinned and returned the arm punch with interest. "Tell me everything."
She beamed, practically vibrating with energy. "I told Chas about that stick thing you did back in Riverbend. He said he'd seen something like it before and helped me nail down a concept." Her expression softened with genuine warmth. "I don't really know how to thank you."
"You don't have to. You've done more than enough already." I dipped the twig impatiently. "Is it Precision?"
"That's part of it. Combined with swiftness and decisiveness—Acumen." Cass smiled with such genuine happiness it was almost blinding.
"I can't wait to see it in action!"
Red stuck his nose under my arm, sniffing the steam with scientific curiosity. He promptly sat down and unleashed his signature rumble-honk—a sound that unmistakably meant he wanted something and wouldn't be taking no for an answer.
"Alright, alright." I grabbed what remained of the twig and held it out. He snatched it with shameless enthusiasm, chomping down with exaggerated smacking sounds that suggested this was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
"You seem to know what this is," I said, gesturing at the pot. "Any idea what it actually does?"
"I grew up on a farm; of course I know Titan's Root." Cass rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "It's incredibly rare—it helps with mana flow and pathway development. I had no idea there was one in Sylvarus, though it makes sense you wouldn't have it on Terra."
"Hey, we had trees that looked similar," I protested, lifting the pot to smell the tea. The aroma was incredible—like cardamom and sunshine had a baby. "Want some?"
"Gaia's tits, no! That's your reward, and I mean it this time. Drink it all anyway—the more you infuse, the better the effect."
"Alright, alright. Give me a minute." I took a cautious sip of the steaming tea.
It wasn't too hot, and the taste was surprisingly pleasant—though it could definitely use some honey. Before I realized what was happening, I'd drained the entire pot like I was dying of thirst.
I lowered the empty vessel and glanced at Cass, who was watching me with expectant eyes.
"I don't really feel anything," I admitted, and her face fell slightly.
"Oh, wait—I'm supposed to meditate first."
"Good!" She perked up immediately, standing and brushing off her hands. "Do that, and I'll return this pot to Michael. I'm next for the Grace trial, so I'll be back shortly."
I nodded, settling by the pool. "Good luck, Cass! I'll just be here, doing nothing productive."
Her laughter echoed as she descended the stairs, leaving me alone with the sound of falling water and Red's contented stick-crunching.
Red padded over and flopped down next to me, pressing his warm bulk against my leg while making satisfied chomping noises. Smiling, I rested a hand on his side, running my fingers through his fur as I closed my eyes and let the pavilion's soothing sounds wash over me.
At first, meditation felt like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. Something kept pulling my attention away, drawing my focus somewhere closer to the surface. Then my awareness shifted, zeroing in on my mana pathways like a camera finding its focus.
I gasped, eyes flying open.
Mana pulsed through me in perfect sync with my breathing, each wave impossibly fast and smooth. In my mind's eye, I could see them—what had once been simple roads now evolved into a complex network of branches and crossroads, each connection humming with vibrant blue mana.
Energy surged through the pathways in rhythmic waves, moving with the natural flow of my heartbeat and breath. It wasn't just power anymore—it was part of me, as essential as blood in my veins.
I focused inward on my mana reserves and felt my jaw drop. The regeneration rate had increased by orders of magnitude. I was pulling energy from the air like a vacuum, processing it faster than I'd ever dreamed possible.
Here, in this trial area thick with ambient mana, I was pretty sure I could maintain Valor indefinitely.
It was going to be a very interesting week.
