NOVEL NEXT Chapter 125: Gearing Up
Wulf didn't use Athllas' suggestion of the guard office right away. He did a little scouting, and the room was completely sealed off, with tight security. He'd need the help of a guard inside if he was going to get any of the assignments.
Captain Basil.
But for that, he figured he'd need a little more leverage. He could give up some of the Lions, but he wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready to take on Varl yet if things went south, and he didn't know how Athllas would react.
The semester continued as normal. He tried venturing up to Wraith and testing the Oronith's inner mountain spirit as they worked on it, but the beast didn't respond. It was still in a coma.
But he'd felt things he couldn't explain while piloting it. Things he'd never felt while Piloting Fiendhammer. Wraith was ancient, and it was more conscious than most Oroniths. Its internal systems could rival the Rex Basilius, probably, for age.
Nothing he did changed it. He didn't get any of the keenly aware sense of fear, or the warnings that Wraith provided him. None of it.
There was, however, plenty to do. Aside from their studies and their midterms, he had his work for Varl, which he was accumulating Crowns from, and their work on Wraith's new equipment.
The next order of business was woodworking. Seith broke the tree she'd selected into manageable chunks, and the rest of them helped carve it down into the right size for the hilt of the new daggers.
It was a good choice for a tree. Sturdy and fresh, and flexible enough to survive the grip of an Oronith. Having borrowed some of Dr. Blyke's tools, they carved it into the right shape. It took a couple weeks to get the right shape, and an identical shape for both hilts, but finally, they had something Wulf could work with. It would fit in the Oronith's hand, but there wasn't enough room to wield it with two hands.
There was just the slight problem of fitting it onto the tang.
That was, until Wulf returned the next week, with his storage pendant full of a corrosive potion.
The pendant itself wasn't actually full, but he'd created a batch of Low-Gold corrosive potions from the spiderplant's leaves and the foliated widowlob's venom. Since he'd stopped the transmutation, it wasn't as high tier as it could have been, but it'd do the job.
"I need a distraction," Wulf said. "Make sure no one's looking at us when I melt a hole in the center of the handle."
"I'm excellent at distractions," Irmond said.
Wulf and Seith just nodded. Today, it was Kalee's turn to watch over Prince Athllas, so she wasn't here to provide any commentary.
"What?" Irmond asked.
"I agree. You're good at making distractions." Wulf shrugged. "And I don't trust you with highly corrosive potions. At your tier, this will eat through your hand in a single dip."
"Don't trust me? Oh, come on. Seith, back me up."
She laughed softly. "Can't help there." Then, she patted him on the shoulder. "You'll do great."
He winked. "I always do." Then, he jogged toward the Oronith and the repair crews. They were replacing some stone components in the Wraith's upper thigh at the moment, and he wasn't sure what exactly they were adding, but Dr. Blyke assured him it would dampen the landing impact of jumps more.
Wulf didn't see what happened. There was a crash, and people ran over to help. All eyes turned toward the source of the noise, and Wulf and Seith took their chance.
Using one of the cranes they'd borrowed from Blyke, they hoisted the hilt upright, then Wulf poured the corrosive potion exactly in the middle, melting a hole in the wood. A single potion lasted him about a quarter of the way, and he had to use [Arm of the Alchemist] to turn them into splatter potions.
Finally, they'd melted a hole down the center of the wooden structure. It was just the right size to fit the viridian blade's tang in. With the help of the cranes, they slotted the tang into the hilt, then screwed the pommel onto the bottom. The still sticky, half-corroded wood bonded to the viridian, holding the hilt in place.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
"Excellent!" Seith exclaimed. "But…the Field doesn't recognize it as complete."
"Two things," Wulf said. "We still need to wrap the hilt with something, and these blades are a pair. We need both finished."
While they had a chance, they finished the second blade as well, using the same method. Wulf had two corrosive potions left over, which he used to melt a hole in the side of the hilt. It gave him direct contact with the tang, which would be helpful to conduct poison through once he figured out how to do that.
A normal person wouldn't be able to fill the pores of viridian, but with Wulf's [Viridian] Mark, he should've been able to accomplish it.
Perhaps he didn't even need direct contact. Over the next few days, they fed the treegiant frog's poison glands into the hole, fitting the glassy-white sacs in. The natural poison had already left them, but they'd store poisons that he made for a while—much longer than the viridian would themselves. He could fill them when he needed, then inject it into the blade, and his Mark would allow it to stay in.
Then came the problem of wrapping the blades. They used strips of the dire-bear's pelt. Over the next few weeks, as the season changed, they used the rot-wolf's eye humours to tan the pelt. It took a while to dry, but once it was ready, they wrapped strips of it around the blades of the viridan short swords, finishing the hilt and giving it a grip.
Both swords were ready, even if Wraith was still missing a hand. The Field resonated around the blades, and Wulf felt a tingle across his whole body. He hadn't helped much, but being a crafting class, he still received a message on his bracer:
[By using alchemy to help craft a weapon, you have increased your mana. Advancement progress: 84.1%]
Seith, however, immediately gained a tier and a Mark. She didn't check it yet. Certainly, they were all more interested in making the swords and seeing what they did.
Smokeblades (High-Gold)
Veridian daggers crafted by a resourceful crew. Their time and care has resulted in a powerful quality. At the expense of mana, the Pilot can harden this construct.
These daggers can store poison in their hilts and release it with physical pressure.
Additional effect: these constructs are incredibly durable and sharp when stabbing armoured targets.
They will only function for their bonded Oronith.
Wulf raised his eyebrows. Seith was analyzing them too. She had a massive smile, and she ran around the daggers, observing them. "Thank you for your help! I…I don't think I could've made something like this on my own. Hell, the materials. Man, I don't think I would've made this if I wasn't part of your crew."
Wulf only nodded. "You're very welcome. Once we get the hands fixed up, we should be able to use these guys."
At first, he'd been a little confused to see them called a construct, but it wasn't like there was any blacksmithing involved. Like most things on an Oronith, they'd been created or repaired with the help of an Artificer.
"Right…now…onto the rest?" Seith tilted her head.
"We've still got some armour to make, and a massive bear pelt to turn into a cloak." He nodded.
"I think we've got our work cut out for us…" Irmond muttered. "But not tonight. It's already midnight, and I need to sleep."
As the semester drew to an end, the trees shed all their leaves, and rain became more common, they worked through the armour.
The Hardvellar was more difficult to work with, and for that, they did need a forge. To earn forge-using-privileges, they had to help Dr. Blyke for a few days straight on Wraith and other Oroniths in the hangar.
But once they got access to the hangar's forge—a massive room at the end of the wing, which they burned spare giantwood shards in, and used golems to pump the bellows. A fire nearly three times Wulf's height burned in it, and he could feel the heat from nearly fifty paces away.
Seith used a forging manual from the King's library. To shape the armour, the four of them designed shoulder paudrons first out of clay, then, while Seith melted the hardvellar (a process that took days) they created a mould.
They poured the liquid metal into the moulds, creating simple shoulder pauldrons that would (hopefully) be tight enough to snap onto the Oronith's shoulders without restricting its movement. It'd provide an extra layer of protection above the stone.
But Wulf knew well enough that you couldn't just make functional armour. If all you wanted to do was protect yourself, you'd get some protection, but the Field wouldn't make it magical, or if it did get a magical side, then it wouldn't be strong. And if it weighed the Wraith down too much without any reward, there was no point.
Once the armour cooled, he applied chaos to the outer layer, creating patterns of tarnished hardvellar—a green scale that he applied in swooping curves. It'd distract the eye as Wraith moved, and…well, it looked cool. He took pride in his work, and the Field recognized it, too. It labelled the pauldron:
Wraith's Pauldron (High-Silver)
A hardvellar pauldron crafted by an Artificer gaining her confidence. They are part of a set of six pieces. Throughout a battle, they store impact force, which can be released in a burst.
They will only function for their bonded Oronith.
A decent start.
"Good work, everyone," he panted. "One down, five more to go. At least, that's what the Field thinks."