Ultimate Level 1-Chapter 416: Going All In

Chapter 416 - Going All In

We have two air skills. One is for Elemental Mastery, and the other is for Wind Control. Do you still not feel that those would provide us the best chance to succeed with that core? It’s why we saved it for the last out of everything.

He could sense Bob considering this topic again, unsure of which direction his skill would go about this topic. There was an element of excitement similar to the one he felt coming through their bond. Yet, at the same time, it was one of concern, like the quiet voice of one's conscience warning them about their actions.

We put this one at the end of the list because we both knew it had the highest chance of success. I have a few ideas on how to try and help it if we attempt this path. Just know I am out of ideas if this fails. There might be a small window where we can stop and not ruin everything, but if we pass that moment, our only option will be to move forward and risk losing it all.

So either we forge ahead, attempting to create an elemental weapon with eight shards, knowing that we will succeed in doing what even Buwingrid thinks is almost impossible, or we fail so badly it could destroy her shop.

With no concern about how it would injure us in the process.

Please. We could survive that blast.

Sure. But doing so might mean we use up our Negate Death Blow ability. Is that how you really want to go into the fight for your life?

Frustration continued to grow as the skill that so often pushed him to take risks like this tried to hold him back. Max understood why. Every scenario that might happen played out. Yet here they were with a chance to gain a new crafting skill possibly, almost assured if he succeeded, according to Buwingrid.

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Bob was right about not wanting to use his Negate Death Blow skill if something went bad. Gaining power in the tower had been slow compared to the killing of Riniya, and he knew that using energy stored for the evolution of Consume bothered his friend.

Minutes ticked by as neither the red-headed dwarf beside him nor his skill gave any more advice or shared their opinion.

“Do you believe in luck?” Max asked after turning to face his host.

“What?”

“Do you believe in luck? Do you think the gods sometimes direct our paths or help us succeed?”

Buwingrid huffed and shrugged, not bothering to uncross her arms as she continued to lean against the table she rested against.

“That’s a trap if I’ve ever heard one. Of course, I believe that Ockrim will help me. To admit anything else would be considered heresy by many of my kind. Yet do I think we’re about to see if the gods are involved in your life for a moment like this…”

She sucked wind in through her teeth, stopping after a few seconds and then blew it all out.

“If you feel that somewhere out there are gods who want to see you succeed, then believe it. Right now, I don’t want to be responsible in any way for the path you take. If something I say causes you to push on and lose everything, I will feel that weight forever on my shoulders. Likewise, if you stop and almost win, barely losing this fight because the weapon failed, then I will wonder if I persuaded you to have a better tool for this fight.”

Nodding, he pulled the emblem that Ockrim had given him and watched as her eyes immediately locked upon it.

“This side, I go for it,” Max said as he tapped the picture of the god. “The other, I don't.”

Without waiting for her response, he flipped it upward, almost laughing as she leaned forward, uncrossing her arms and seemingly prepared to reach out and snatch it from the air.

He let it fall to the ground as it descended, choosing not to catch it lest he used his speed and ability to grab it a certain way and force the final outcome.

It struck the floor. Each time it plinked and bounced, a high-pitched sound came, forcing the eyes of dwarf and man to stay fixed upon it.

Slowly, it stopped its tumbling, wobbling back and forth as it settled on the worked stone beneath it.

“I guess that settles it,” Max said, bending over and plucking the large coin-like emblem from the ground, the face of the dwarven god looking up at him.

A chuckle came from Buwingrid after he stored it; her attention no longer fixated upon that item.

“You have the biggest pair I’ve seen in a while,” she stated, moving away from where Max stood and back to the corner she had been at earlier. “Let’s see if Ockrim does love you.”

***

It felt like buckets of sweat were pouring down every inch of his skin as Max held on to the core with both hands.

He could feel Bob struggling to control the flow of magic as he attempted to combine two skills into one. Each operated differently and yet the same. Part of that provided a degree of compatibility while the other side seemed to create walls of air which stopped the flow he was trying to keep steady.

As one, each faced a different struggle. Max’s was physical, holding a small ball of air that attempted to be free like a tornado. Bob struggled to control large gusts of wind, which buffeted not only the weapon held tight between two vices but also the air that swirled around them, attempting to shift the man wielding it.

Time seemed to stretch on, and Max knew there wasn’t any way to return. The core was connected to the blade and the last section of the weapon was not infused with an elemental path. Next to where he worked was the sand one, each having been placed a certain way to help balance the power and hopefully offset the chance for two cores to conflict.

We need to slow down! It’s coming to the point when we will see if this works!

His head throbbed as Bob shouted at him.

Sound filled his ears and Sonar skill as the wind raced around them, and he used the tool to move along the blade slowly.

Power seeped inside and then threatened to cut itself off, each time attempting to push his hand away or tear the core free.

His stance was one where he balanced himself as much as possible, watching mana pour from his chest, down his arms, out his fingers, and through the wind dervish in his hands.

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How… much… longer?

It was hard to think. His brain felt exhausted, and this last moment took far longer and required more energy and mana than he had expected.

Soon! Hold the distance. Repeat the runes once more! We are close.

Bob’s words felt like a salve against his tired being. Every ounce of him was being drained for this, and he couldn’t let his mind wander. There wasn’t a second he could look away lest his hand slip the slightest and ruin everything.

Seconds ticked by, and then, another minute later, as his hand moved slowly, the tool he held pressed against the core, touching the spot where each rune had been etched.

Two more!

Max had to take a deep breath, and his arm started to shake like it had with the lightning core.

A tremor threatened to ruin everything.

[ Bulwark ]

Bob activated the skill, and Max immediately felt himself become centered, his feet unmoving and his body locked in.

With a grunt, he moved forward, hand drawing the rune he had been on, watching as the power and mana of the orb and his being flowed together.

One left!

The last one was larger than the other and had more twists and lines, yet Max did everything he could to remain calm, tracing them as quickly as possible, knowing there was a limited amount of time before his skill expired and the reality of what he was doing would hit.

With a small line left, the notification came and his body felt the force of the storm he was surrounded by hit.

[ Skill Reset ]

[ Bulwark ]

It was just a fraction of a moment, so fast many would never be able to know what had happened. Between the time his body flashed that the skill had ended and then glowed again because Bob had reset and activated it once more, there was only the slightest delay.

Yet his hand moved then, and everything began to fall apart.

His fingers felt like they would be ripped to shreds, the core spinning in his hand.

[ Regeneration ]

FIGHT IT! FINISH IT!

He felt additional support as the stone began to form up around him, holding his forearms in place as the magic of the weapon and core rejected each other.

Inside him, Bob fought with everything he had, pouring mana into this process, all while using his Stone Mastery to give aid. He did everything possible to help keep Max’s hand close to the last inch that needed to be etched.

Like pushing a boulder the size of a moon up a cliff, Max continued the impossible task, ignoring the pain in his hand and body.

Energy erupted from all over, and his mind felt like it was being stung by a thousand bees, each one upset with him about something.

Seconds ticked by as he slowly moved the tool along the last rune mark, feeling Bob drain the mana inside him dry.

And then everything went silent.

Gone was the noise.

His body and hand no longer felt like they would tear themselves apart from each other.

The air core that had been present was gone, extinguished as if it had never been breathed.

His lungs ached, and his eyes watered.

Slowly, his vision returned, and his Sonar overcame the pain it had been enduring, some of the problems his brain had suffered under.

Glancing around the room, he saw things scattered everywhere. Tools and anything else not clamped down or extremely heavy were now lying far away.

In the corner, emerging from behind a shield, was Buwingrid, eyes wide as she stared at him.

He looked down at the weapon, watching as blood dripped from his fingers, the flesh that had once been there strewn over the room, now not a single injury present.

The blade sat there, covered in blood, silent.

We… you did it.

No! You were right the first time. We did it. I… I need to sit.

It took a second, but Max pulled a chair out and quickly allowed himself to collapse into it. A waterskin followed, and then a piece of jerky as he stared at the weapon.

“You… you did it,” Buwingrid said, her voice low and almost a whisper as she came to where he was. “For a moment… I thought…”

Instead of talking, her hand clamped down on his shoulder, and she squeezed.

“I guess Ockrim does love you.”

Chuckling, he let out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

“If you can hear me, Ockrim, thank you!” he shouted, causing the dwarf beside him to groan.

“It doesn’t work that way you fool. You have to go to the temple and offer a real gift.”

“Perhaps he’ll be okay if I wait till I’m back home unless there’s a place here for him.”

“Oh nothing like that here. Remember, no gods were allowed but one. Now, there isn’t one at all,” she replied. “Still… you need to finish this. I can’t wait to hear what power this contains.”

Max grinned and took one last drink from his waterskin before storing it and standing. Looking around, he saw her holding out a cloth for him and smiled.

“Thanks, I think mine is somewhere in here.”

Grunting, the dwarf frowned.

“Yeah… someone… who isn’t me is going to have to clean all this up in a moment.”

Max didn’t care that he would soon be doing manual labor. Instead, he took the cloth she offered and began to wipe down the weapon, allowing the last bit of the process to complete.

And then the notification appeared, causing him to drop the cloth.

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