I was prone behind a moss-covered boulder, peering through a pair of duct-taped Bushnell binoculars I’d brought from Earth. I chewed on a chocolate bar—a luxury of the highest order in this world—to keep my glucose levels up.
“And what’s that?” Brad asked without looking up, busy applying anti-freeze oil to his mechanical arm.
“They’re all... under tension.”
I lowered the binoculars and pointed toward the massive floating fortress blockading the only pass. This wasn’t just a mine; it was a bronze-clad wall. To monopolize the Floatstone resources, the Storm Clan had converted the mountain pass into a multi-layered checkpoint. If we didn't pry this gate open, the Land Crawler Mk.I—this multi-ton hunk of iron—would rot right here.
Through my System’s structural analysis vision, the magnificent fortress was stripped down to a stress map of red and yellow lines. The dozen floating islands, tethered together by massive iron chains, looked like a set of wind chimes dangling in a gale. Every chain was under thousands of tons of tensile load; every anchor point was screaming in a frequency invisible to the naked eye.
Specifically, the main load-bearing chain connecting the primary mine to the checkpoint tower.
It was stretched perfectly straight, its surface already riddled with microscopic metal fatigue cracks. And beneath that chain lay a bottomless abyss.
“The Storm Clan’s architect is either a madman or far too confident in their magic,” I pushed my glasses up, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “He hung the center of gravity for the entire checkpoint on a Single Point of Failure. If we snap that one link...”
I made a "collapsing" gesture with my hands.
“The entire western defense tower will slide down like a stack of blocks and slam right into their armory. The resulting chain reaction will create the perfect chaos—and our exit route.”
“And while they’re panicking, we restock!” Lyn rubbed her hands together, her tail wagging like a propeller. “I want that biggest Floatstone in the warehouse! The purple glow looks like a giant pile of gold coins!”
“It’s not just about the stones,” Zayla’s voice dropped. Through the binoculars, she was watching the slaves toiling in the pits—mostly beastmen from fallen tribes, wearing heavy mana-suppression collars, hauling ore under the lash. When one fell, the overseer simply kicked them off the cliff.
Zayla’s claws dug deep into the dirt.
“Ready, demolition crew?” I patted Zayla’s shoulder, snapping her back to the present. She was crouched nearby, ropes coiled around her torso and three glass vials of red liquid hanging from her belt. This was Kelas’s specialized Alchemical Blasting Gel—or as Lyn called it, "Portable Volcanoes."
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“I am an assassin, not a courier,” Zayla huffed, her ears twitching in annoyance. But she tightened her belt, her eyes sharpening into feline slits. “Though I admit... blowing up these bird-men’s nest does sound satisfying.”
“Lyn, stay close to Zayla. You’re the technician; you identify the blast points,” I turned to the fox girl. “Remember, we don’t need a massive explosion. We need a shear. Stuff the gel into the gaps of Link 42.”
“Understood! Precision demolition is the fox-kin's specialty!” Lyn tapped her chest confidently.
“Brad, you and I stay here and provide fire support,” I patted the Landwalker’s hull. “Once the blast goes off, we give those griffins a little Gravity Shock.”
...
The infiltration went smoother than expected—benefits of having a feline queen who could merge into shadows even in broad daylight. The Storm Clan guards held the high ground, but they were arrogant. They were used to looking down at the earth, rarely checking the blind spots directly beneath their feet.
Zayla was a grey ghost, leading Lyn through the floating debris belt. Whenever a Griffin Rider patrolled overhead, she would perform a physics-defying move, hanging inverted from the bottom of a rock, her tail curling around Lyn to keep her from slipping.
Ten minutes later.
The two reached the anchor point of the main chain. It was the fortress’s Achilles’ heel, but also the most dangerous spot. The massive chain emitted a bone-chilling creak-groan in the wind, sounding like it could snap at any second.
“It’s huge...” Lyn swallowed hard, staring at a link thicker than her waist. “Will Kelas’s potion really work?”
“Less talk. More work.” Zayla kept her eyes on the tower above, her ears catching every vibration in the air.
Lyn took a deep breath and pulled out the red gel. She carefully smeared the volatile substance onto the most corroded section of the link and inserted a thin magnesium-strip igniter.
“Three minutes,” Lyn whispered. “In three minutes, the temperature here will spike to two thousand degrees followed by rapid cooling. Thermal shock. It’ll make this iron more brittle than glass.”
“Retreat!” Zayla grabbed Lyn by the collar and vanished back into the shadows.
...
On the cliffside, I watched the countdown on my watch.
“3... 2... 1.”
There was no earth-shattering explosion. Only a sharp, singular SNAP—like the sound of a lute string breaking. That sound was followed immediately by the scream of tearing metal.
The massive chain, weakened by alchemical corrosion and crushed by its own tensile load, failed instantly. The severed end whipped through the air like an angry steel lash, obliterating a nearby sentry tower in a single stroke.
RUMBLE—!
Physics took over the battlefield.
Without its anchor, the western floating island dipped violently, tilting thirty degrees. Thousands of tons of ore stockpiled on the island became a landslide, a river of stone crashing into the armory and griffin stables below.
“Earthquake! No—it’s a Sky-quake!”
“Hold the chains! Stabilize the platform!”
The Storm Clan fortress descended into absolute anarchy. Alarms, screams, and the roar of collapsing masonry blended into a symphony of destruction. The blocked pass was now wide open where the tower had stood.
“The road is clear!” I slammed the shifter into gear. The Landwalker’s engine roared to life. “Brad! Free fire! If it tries to fly, shoot it down! We’re charging through!”
“On it!” Brad’s turret barked. POW! POW! POW! This time, he didn't need to aim for rocks. In the chaos, the panicking Griffin Riders trying to scramble into the air were perfect targets.
At the center of the mess, Zayla and Lyn hadn't retreated. They were using the smoke as cover, sprinting toward the high-grade Floatstone warehouse.
“Alex! Since the road is open, I don’t think you’ll mind if we bring back some ‘local souvenirs,’ right?” Zayla’s voice crackled through the comms, sounding suspiciously excited.
I looked at the "Industrial Accident" I had just choreographed and pushed my glasses up, satisfied.
“Not at all. As long as you can carry it.”
I didn't need an army. Just a little structural mechanics and a touch of alchemy to make an impregnable fortress dismantle itself.
“That’s the efficiency of the Demolition Department,” I muttered, flooring the accelerator. “Sit tight, Brad. We’re going to pick up our Queen and our Accountant!”
Question of the Day: Zayla and Lyn found a massive stash of Aether-Floatstone. How do they get it to the Land Crawler Mk.I through the chaos?
(Click to choose)
?? A) The Heavy Lift: Use a makeshift crane.
Result: Slow and Steady. Use the Landwalker's winch to drag the crate across the gap. risky, but high volume.
?? B) The Sky-Sled: Use the Floatstone's own properties.
Result: Work Smarter, Not Harder. Tap the stones to activate their lift and literally "fly" the loot back to the truck like a floating sled.
?? C) The Smash & Grab: Just ram the warehouse.
Result: The Engineer's Choice. Why walk when you can drive through the wall? Drive the Landwalker directly into the loading dock and let gravity handle the rest.
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