N. Francis
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Chapter 106: The March of Progress
🕑 Added 2025-07-04 14:28:44 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: So, today is the day I officially announce I'm going on a 4 or 5 day release per week schedule on RR! That means, expect next week that their will be a LOT more content dropping instantly to get you all ahead where you need to be. TBH, I'm going to use this weekend to decide if it will be monday-friday or tuesday-friday, but just thought I' keep you all up to date!
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As time passed in an ever-increasing blur, changes began to appear around a particular volcano. The first was that the density of monsters started to decrease as if a new top monster had appeared in the area. Next, columns began to appear, erected in a pattern that was hard to make sense of unless you were the architect of their creation.
More than the outside, it was the interior of the mountain that began to change, with occasional explosions ringing out from hollowed-out tunnels, only to be followed by the sounds of a grumbling man. Eventually, even the explosive sounds began to fade, replaced by an endless percussion solo of a single hammer striking at white-hot metal for hours every day, days every week, weeks every month, and so forth.
Even the tunnels themselves began to change as if to mark the march of time, no longer empty. Instead, they were braced by opposing blood-red coral columns -trees that grew into the ceiling. Once the tunnels were left behind, one would enter a forge straight from a dwarven history book. Gone were the bone struts and supports; now, everything had been replaced with either steel-colored obsidian or metal so dark red it was nearly black. From where the golden magma spewed, a dragon’s visage had been installed, adorned with gems in its crest, as the magma seemed to radiate with extra intensity.
It wasn’t the only room, either; nearly twelve rooms had been hollowed out in his time, some dedicated to testing things in a safe environment with no chance of explosion. In contrast, others were specially designed for crafts such as alchemy or gem crafting.
It was in the last sort of room, dedicated to gem crafting, where Rory was currently residing.
“Really shouldn’t be that hard,” Rory grumbled to himself as he examined the pristine steel-colored gem in his hands in the shape of a cube. “So why isn’t it working?”
He was close, he knew he was close, but there was just a tiny little hump that he couldn’t seem to cross, and even squeezing in more convergence points wasn’t doing the trick.
The problem Rory was having was that he couldn’t travel further up the mountain. Ever since she had reached A7, Eia had been able to, but Rory was still not; she was better adapted for such purposes.
While he had come up with several ways that it should be possible, he was attempting to solve his problem through gem crafting. He could have probably whipped up an answer faster with an inscription, but Rory felt as if he’d been letting gem crafting fall to the wayside; he’d made few innovations aside from new gems over the last few years.
Could several room gems and barrier gems have managed it? Sure, but it was the same issue of not innovating.
In retrospect, the answer was relatively simple. Instead of a cube or spherical gem, Rory spent time painstakingly refining and shaping an artificial crystal of poured obsidian steel into a conal shape. The shape of a gem was known to affect how it would represent the convergence points and the overall mapping of intent; a sphere, for example, could represent density, whereas a cube might represent structure.
A conal shape was a two-part rationale. First, it resembled a volcano, a simple yet effective synergy that had proven surprisingly effective in the past. Next, and more importantly, it was shaped like a cone, which could more resoundingly embody concepts such as splitting or piercing, a singular point driven forward by a mass behind it.
With a new form of gem shape, Rory then decided to work on a new gem type while he was at it. A room and barrier gem combo was great for pushing things away. Still, they began to break down rather rapidly as they were forced to repel external forces directly. If Rory wanted to explore the upper regions of the volcano, then he would need to withstand the forces for an extended period.
The other point was that Rory didn’t need to negate the energies of the higher mountain directly; he just needed to dilute them.
A gem to pierce through the aura of the volcano, and an intent to turn it away…. Hmmm, that might work.
In his mind, Rory could picture a diagram of a wind tunnel, showing how wind currents would cut across an object if it were designed aerodynamically. It wasn’t the lessons of aerodynamics that mattered so much as the arrows.
An arrow gem? No, not quite.
Thinking about it for longer, Rory finally thumped his closed fist against his palm.
A Spin Gem.
Using the shape language of the cone design, he would then map an intent to ‘spin’ or turn the external energies around him. He would still feel them; it wasn’t an attempt at total defense like a room and barrier gem combo, but it was far more long-lasting and sustainable.
After that, it was simply a matter of trial and error at mapping the points of a cone-shaped gem; the less standard shape meant the convergence points seemed to map themselves differently than what Rory had become used to with simple spheres or cubes. After enough of the gems had exploded in his face —a lesson that had taught him long ago to wear a face guard while prototyping new gem or gem types— Rory at last ended with a small cone roughly two inches tall, made of obsidian, the color of steel.
Next was a question less contingent on conceptual effects and focused more on actual craftsmanship. If Rory wanted the gem to have an extended lifespan, then he would design with that intent in mind. Rory could have gotten artsy-craftsy with it, but in the end, he settled for a simple watch-like design that he could swap new gems in and out of the face of the ‘watch.’
While there would usually be a question about the material he would use to create the new item, Rory only had two primary metals at this point: Rubedo, which was fairly dependable, and his newest innovation in materials science.
Promethium
Quality: Rare (-)
An alloy forged from Rubedo and Nigredo, it is exceptionally resistant to heat and corrosive forces, bordering on indestructible against at-tier forces. While extremely capable against corrosive and thermal forces, it is highly susceptible to frigid temperatures.
Given the effort that went into creating it, far less than Night Copper, it was surprisingly easy to achieve a close approximation to a proper rare-grade material. There was still something missing that Rory felt would make it perfect, but it didn’t change the fact that, given his environment, it had damn near no downsides.
Rory was looking to undertake a larger project with the material - what exactly he wasn’t sure of yet - but for the time being, it was fine to use the material for a simple watch. Making his way to the main workshop, Rory grabbed a quarter-ingot of Promethium along the way. It was rather heavy, at least compared to Night Copper, the other ‘easily’ reproducible rare-grade material he had worked with. Armed with the quarter-ingot, he placed it upon a ‘tray’ that he then hooked to a chain also made of Promethium before pressing a switch on the side of the small system. Instantly, it swiveled over the magma whirlpool before slowly lowering the tray into the center of the whirlpool. Melting down the Promethium after it had initially been cast and cooled was something the magma within the whirlpool wasn’t hot enough to do, even with the addition of the dragon-head heating he had installed at the mouth of the magma fall.
But then, Rory wasn’t looking to melt it down; softening it would be enough to work with it. Letting it remain submerged for nearly three minutes, Rory flipped the switch on the magmatic crane.
Grabbing the now white-hot piece of metal with a pair of Promethium tongs, Rory set it down upon a nearby anvil that was beginning to look worse for wear, given it was the same anvil he had ‘requisitioned’ from Ehkorrus. Ignoring that problem for the time being, Rory began to hammer away at the metal, thinning it out before flattening it and splitting it into several small squares, each an inch across. Once he had several of the squares of Promethium prepped, he gently bent them so they would sit comfortably around his wrist.
One of the nice things about Promethium is that it retained its heat for quite a long time during the forging process, thus allowing Rory time to punch tiny holes in the corners before linking them with loops made from the punched-out holes and some excess promethium. Still rather hot, Rory began to inscribe runes into the metal as it cooled, his prosthetic hand unbothered by the temperature.
The runes were meant as nothing more than a facilitator for an even flow of Pneuma to cycle through the entire apparatus. Rory had discovered over the years that inscriptions maintained the integrity and overall efficiency better when they were ‘always’ on rather than being turned on and off, meaning a constant trickle of Pneuma was better than nothing at all.
A few other inscriptions were added, with the entire intent being to maintain the gem placed within for as long as possible, ‘borrowing’ some integrity from the promethium faux-wristwatch instead, transferring a bit of durability that was possible, albeit in limited scope.
Without any aisormba to quench the metal in, Rory instead thrust the already-cooling material into a basin of a markedly different liquid.
His blood.
“Brings me back,” Rory sighed as the basin of his blood bubbled. Unlike when he was a mere tier one, at tier seven, he could slash his palm and ‘milk’ himself of his blood. As a tier seven, it would pour out expeditiously, enough to kill a person from Earth, while now only barely sufficient to make Rory yawn.
Probably because, at this point, my natural bonuses in race evolution and durability investment mean I produce blood almost as fast as it’s draining from me.
Sure, Rory needed to process the raw blood a little, but that wasn’t anything a little bit of alchemy couldn’t solve.
Once Rory at last retrieved the quenched watch from the basin of his blood, the metal had taken on a slightly darker crimson sheen, but it was still closer to the color black than something like Crimson Steel.
Strapping it around his wrist, Rory looked at the empty watch face for a moment before slowly fitting the cone-shaped gem to fit snugly into it.
Moment of truth.
Sending a tiny pulse of Pneuma through the item, Rory felt as if suddenly a weight had been released from his shoulders, as light as a feather, albeit in a more metaphysical sense.
“Great, it worked,” Rory said, relieved as the sense of weightlessness vanished as he deactivated the item. A tiny ‘current’ of Pneuma still traveled through the item, but it wasn’t enough to sustain a strong effect.
“And now I can finally explore the upper regions.”
The higher levels of the volcano were partially masked by a screen of haze that was nearly impossible to see through. While Rory could activate the effect of his eye skill to see through obstacles such as haze, smoke, or darkness, it only worked in a direct line of sight. Peripheral vision or anything past a thirty-degree angle from his eyesight in any direction was as obscured as usual, almost as if his eyes behaved more like magical flashlights with ‘beams’ of improved vision. Shockingly, from what he had seen, the upper volcano wasn’t bare. Rory hadn’t tried to look much more than that, wanting to keep it a surprise for himself.
Exiting his workshop, Rory nodded to himself as he walked past the tunnel filled with Earthen Ichor Coral, the form the coral had mutated into after being ‘watered’ with his blood essence and the Green Thumb skill.
Once outside, Rory glanced at the entrance to his workshop, a stone arch with a heavy door set into the mountain. The archway had runes that would help conceal the entrance unless one knew what to look for; otherwise, the entrance appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary mountaintop.
Beginning his ascent, Rory was quickly forced to activate his wristwatch; the excessive volcanic energy was diffused as it was redirected around him. Even with the item, Rory still felt eddies of the energy occasionally passing through the protective current, like a scorching lash against his skin.
Ignoring it, Rory saw that further above, the stone seemed to be covered in unmoving magma, the color that he was used to from Earth’s magma. It became evident that it wasn’t lava; instead, it seemed to be an undergrowth of coral bushes, whereas far below, they had taken the form of trees.
Nifty.
Eventually, the volcano did something that Rory found perplexing: it flattened out, leaving nearly two miles of flat terrain before resuming its upward conical shape.
Curious, Rory began to explore the ring, covered in jutting clay pillars, steel-colored stones reduced to sharp flakes underfoot, patches of orange coral, and finally, sporadic mini-forests, except that instead of trees, they seemed to be oversized colocasias, more commonly known by their less science-y name, elephant ear plants.
Approaching one such patch of ‘forest,’ Rory entered roughly a hundred meters of vegetation and such in any direction.
Exploring the bite-sized forest, Rory came to a halt as he sensed something nearby. It was close enough that there wasn’t time to leave, as the source of the feeling locked onto Rory in return, and from further away appeared a monster that forced Rory to do a double-take.
Alright, that has to be one of the weirdest monsters to date.
It towered above, neck rising as high as a tree while its body stood upon eight sets of legs. A spider. And a giraffe.
A spi-raffe. No, a gi-der. Raff-id? Heh, like Arachnid, A-raff-nid.
Rory’s childish considerations as to its proper name were disrupted as he then noticed its level. At tier seven, level seventy-two, it was one of the top five most dangerous monsters Rory had encountered to date. If that wasn’t enough, the monster seemed to spot Rory, its foot stamping on the earth as the sharp flakes of stone shot upward, igniting before careening back down far faster than they had shot up.
“Well, shit,” Rory muttered as he scrambled out of the way. They didn’t look like much, but Rory could sense each one had far more punch than their size suggested, like projectiles launched from an exploding volcano.
Responding with his fastest attack of his own, Rory began to spray projection bullets at the monster, which barely flinched as the pneuma bullets slapped against its tough hide.
Dropping attempts at spraying it down with pneuma bullets, Rory held his bow a moment later as he pulled the string back, a red crystal arrow appearing right as he released the string.
Hoping for some more significant damage, Rory’s jaw dropped as the monster slapped the arrow away with its head.
“Fuckity fuck,”
Just one of those arrows hits as hard as tank fire, and it just used its skull to knock it away.
The monster stamped several legs this time; eight legs meant it could spare three or even four at a time, as nearly four times as many stones rose before racing back down like falling meteor strikes.
Once more on the defensive as he ducked and dodged the falling mini-meteors, Rory was even forced to expand his projections as several shields flickered into existence only to explode upon contact with the falling meteors.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Rory managed to get behind the monster, and another red crystal arrow appeared and leaped through the air. Unlike the first arrow, the second one managed to soundly slam into its hind flank, red vines exploding outward a moment later.
Unlike the Brutal Kelpies, the red vines didn’t make it far before they went up in flames, the monster turning to glare at Rory as it returned the favor by spitting a net of burning spiderwebs from its mouth.
Lashing his hand forward, Rory cut through the net of flaming spiderwebs with a projection whip. Interestingly, the whip began to heat up, slowly igniting and forcing Rory to dissipate the projection.
Right, I’m tired of this shit, new plan.
With his banner appearing in his hand, Rory played keep away as the monster spat more flaming webs, dropped meteors, conjured flaming geysers, and even sent tremors through the earth that radiated explosive gas. The entire time, Rory dipped, dodged, and rolled out of the way of attacks, his banner dragging through the ground, the spearhead carving through the stone without issue.
Three rotations Rory made around the creature before he came to a sudden halt, stabbing his banner into the earth between his feet while he stared down the monster.
“You should probably pay more attention,” Rory said, flicking his head toward the three circles in the earth surrounding the monster. “But, not like it matters.”
With his banner stabbed into the earth like a lightning rod, the largest circle suddenly began to glow.
“A vessel for power,”
The second ring suddenly lit up as runes appeared on the ground, spontaneous projections that would only last several moments.
“A mold to shape power,”
Finally, the third and closest ring around the monster glowed.
“And then a hammer to bring down upon an anvil.”
None of what he was about to do would have been possible except directly inside Ehkorrus; Rory knew the Pneuma permeating the Ehkorrian forest was too ‘light’ to enable such potent freeform magic at his level.
But here, especially past the mid-way point of the volcano, where he needed a specialty crafted item to simply exist under the conceptual weight exuded from the density of all that Pneuma and energy?
Now, that was a different story entirely.
One hand held overhead in a fist, the other held flat with his palm facing the sky, Rory brought his fist down with purposeful intent, not too fast or too slow as the energies captured by the three concentric rings swirled together, forming into a physical mass that the monster could only stare up in dawning of what was about to happen.
“Dragon’s Fall.” Rory grinned, the name he’d made up on the spot for the impromptu attack. Every day that he worked in his main workshop, Rory often stared up at the bust of a dragon’s head that he had built around the lava spout, and thus, he had come to memorize it quite well.
Was the attack basically a glorified meteor?
Of course.
Was Rory purposely adding some extra flair because he didn’t like the idea of mimicking the same meteor attack as the Araffanid?
Possibly.
In my defense, volcanic concepts translate into dragon-themed concepts with shocking ease.
From a height of nearly a hundred meters, a dragon’s head descended like the hand of god, chains erupting from the ground to ensnare the monster. Rory’s entire body was shaking; an attack of this scale wasn’t exactly something he could easily do, but the great thing about stronger monsters was the chance to push his capabilities.
Enraptured by the presence of his own mighty attack that was only moments from crashing down on the unfortunate monster, a thought occurred to Rory.
Wait, I’m pretty sure I’m still in the blast radius of my own attack.
And then the entire world shook.
