*Ding*
You obtain Thraldrirlum’s Dream (Epic)
Monica looked inside the chest, not sending the content right to her Inventory, and slowly pulled out a large, thick… pickaxe?
She looked at the thing with a stunned expression.
Monica's fingers barely brushed the weathered handle of the pickaxe when the world around her blurred. The intricate symbols carved into its surface began to glow with a faint blue light, and suddenly, she wasn't in the forest with the others anymore.
* * *
She found herself watching three dwarven brothers in what must have been the Viscera.
A large hall materialized around Monica with walls of polished granite inlaid with veins of precious metals.
Around a thick, round metal table, three dwarves stood in front of each other.
“What’s this, Nuralumi?” The shortest of the three asked.
"Look here, brothers!" Nuralumi swept his hand over the architectural plans that covered the table. His copper beard jumped as he jabbed his finger at the drawings. "The supports will be anchored in these mountain ranges. The span will-"
“Anchored?” A dwarf with giant, muscled arms boomed with laughter. "While you play with your surface bridges, I'll show you true ambition!" He shoved his brother's plans aside, unfurling his scrolls. The heat radiated from his presence as he traced the descent his bridge would take. "Down, brothers! To the very heart of the world!"
“Groufatin,” the short one interrupted, “you didn’t let Nuralumi finish.
“Shut up, Thraldrirlum,” Groufatin replied. “The King wants one between me and Nuralumi to create the greatest bridge in the world. And I, Groufatin, the best Smith of Viscera, shall give it to him. Forged and smelted in my shop—my men will assemble a bridge that goes down to the center of the world where fire fills the air and metals are molten by the heat of the world!”
"A bridge to the center of the earth?" Nuralumi scoffed, tugging at his copper beard. "While you chase fairy tales beneath us, I will connect our great city to Valoria itself! Think of it - hundreds of miles of perfect dwarven engineering!”
Thraldrirlum reached for his pickaxe, running his fingers over the worn handle.
"Going somewhere, little brother?" Grourfatin sneered. "Another tunnel calling you?"
"Let him be," Nuralumi waved dismissively. "Our simple brother wouldn't understand. His dreams end at the next vein of iron he’ll get excited about.”
The vision shifted, years passing in moments. Monica saw Nuralumi's great bridge rise from its foundations only to collapse when it couldn't support its own weight. She watched Grourfatin's downward-reaching bridge melt in the intense heat of the depths, his workers fleeing from explosive gases and molten rock.
And through it all, she saw Thraldrirlum mining. Day after day, year after year, his pickaxe sang against the stone that seemed to whisper secrets to him. His level climbed higher than any dwarf before him as he followed veins of ore that only he could sense.
Then, one day, deep beneath Viscera, his pickaxe struck something different. The stone rang like a bell, humming with raw magical power. While his brothers had sought to build bridges of steel and stone, Thraldrirlum had found something far more precious: rock that sang with the power to bend space itself.
The vision showed him working alone, following the song of the magical stone. Each strike of his pickaxe was precisely placed, turning the very rock into a vast enchantment. When the work was finally complete, Thraldrirlum had created something impossible - a bridge that existed in multiple places at once, that could connect Viscera to any location in the world for those who knew how to listen for its resonance.
* * *
The vision faded, leaving Monica holding the ancient pickaxe.
*Ding*
Memory-Infused Pickaxe of Thraldrirlum has shown you a fragment of its past. Only those who understand how to listen to the stone's song can unlock its true power.
“Dude, is that a pickaxe?” Ted asked, stunned. “Can I Inspect it?”
Monica, still reeling from the vision, handed the tool to Ted.
“Oh—this is too powerful for me. We would need someone in Valoria to assess it.”
Monica took it back and studied its surface.
“I think The System pushed this to us,” she said. “To get to Viscera and kill Machina.”
Everyone turned to Monica when she said that.
“Oh, right,” she smiled, “I haven’t told you guys.”
* * *
Monica had to explain the Chain Quest she had gotten and what it told her.
"You want to hunt down an Old God?" Heidi's voice cracked in disbelief. Her eyebrows, still growing back, rose dramatically on her forehead.
"Not just hunt - destroy," Monica corrected, running her fingers over the patterns carved into Thraldrirlum's pickaxe. "The System was very clear about that."
"But..." Ted started, then trailed off, looking troubled. "Dude, the Old Gods aren't like normal monsters. They're the reason the Dwarves are gone. They're the reason half the New Gods died in the war. And you want to just... what? Walk into their stronghold and fight them?"
Monica's lips curled into a fierce smile.
"That's exactly what I plan to do. But first," she lifted the heavy pickaxe, "we need to figure out how this thing works. The vision showed me that it's connected to some kind of bridge - one that can take us straight to Viscera."
"The Bridge of Thraldrirlum," Ted whispered, then blushed when everyone turned to look at her. "My mother used to tell stories about it—it’s one of the Nine Wonders. A magical bridge that could appear anywhere, built by the greatest Dwarven mason who ever lived. But it was lost when Viscera fell."
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Let’s get back to the village and then figure out how to get there, then,” Monica smiled.
* * *
“You must have been roughed up pretty well,” the Blacksmith said while hammering the Nightshade Battle Wear’s metal. “It takes something very strong to beat up a piece of Rare armor. Usually, something above Level 80.”
Monica stood a few steps from him, watching curiously as the man repaired her armor.
“The Boss was Level 60, but it was also empowered by Machina,” Monica said casually.
Hank, the Blacksmith, almost hit his hand and had to stop mid-swing to look at the redhead. Monica was only wearing a band over her chest and a loose linen skirt over her long legs, distracting the man from his work.
“It ain’t every day that someone squares up with an Old God,” the Blacksmith said, clearing his throat and resuming his work. “But the damage is not deep. If the armor had cracked, you would have needed a better Blacksmith than me.”
“I can’t afford to be picky,” Monica said. “We’re leaving for Viscera soon.”
The Blacksmith had heard a brief version of what had gone down in the Dungeon and how Monica was now headed to the legendary Dwarven Capital.
“They say Dwarves are so good,” Hank said, while putting the armor back in the forge to temper it after removing the dents, “that they could strike your equipment twice and raise its rarity. Hah! I wish I could do that!”
“Why don’t you come visit after we’ve cleared up there, then?” Monica said with a smile. “I’m sure a Blacksmith would have the time of their life there.”
Hank took out Monica’s armor and placed it in a metal basin full of water, letting the steam hiss all over his forge. He activated a Skill to make sure that the process wouldn’t damage the armor and then one that made sure the metal would set properly.
“If you clear Viscera up,” Hank said, “damn—if you even find it, I would give an arm to visit.”
“No need to give me an arm,” Monica said, stepping beside him and slapping his giant bicep, “I’ve got an idea for what you could give me as payback when I bring you over to Viscera.”
“Heh,” the Blacksmith said, embarrassed. “Wait! Don’t touch it, it’s still hot!”
Monica went over the armor and fished it out of the water. It was still piping hot, but she briefly turned around and donned it in a few elegant twists and turns. Hank had barely any time to realize the woman had disrobed herself while putting the armor on and turned to face the wall of the forge.
“Normal flames can’t hurt me, Hank,” Monica said, tapping his shoulder and having him turn to face her.
“Right,” the man said, averting the woman’s intense gaze.
“About the pickaxe,” she said. “Do you have any idea how to use it?”
Hank was grateful for the opportunity to get away from Monica and side-stepped to fish the giant pickaxe from the side room. The redhead had left it to him in order for him to try and see if he could figure out how to activate it so that Monica and the others could reach Viscera.
“I couldn’t figure it out,” Hank shook his head.
Monica took it again and looked at the top of the blade. On it, there were runes that apparently only she could read, thanks to her Myriad Tongue Racial Ability.
“I don’t get it,” Monica frowned, “It says stuff like ‘rock and stone,’ and then, ‘hammers’s tone?’”
Hank shrugged.
“You know what? Can you give me a piece of paper? I’m going to write this down and ask Ted.”
* * *
Heidi and Ted had been charged with getting as many supplies as they could from the village without drying them up. Monica had also ordered to pay three times the price of anything they had.
However, most villagers wanted to give everything for free to them since they had freed them from Ivor and destroyed a Corrupted Dungeon.
Ted was in charge of doing most of the talking and had to toss coins inside the villagers’ houses for them to accept the payment.
"I don't think we need any more dried meat," Heidi said, watching Ted try to stuff another package into his already bulging backpack.
“Monica said we can stuff everything inside her Inventory,” Ted shrugged. “She said to also pile up some wood to cook the meat she got from the wolves, but she also wants something to eat when we can’t just start a fire.”
They started walking back toward Madeline’s house.
Ted adjusted the mandolin on his back, right over the backpack.
"You know, I still don't understand what happened in there. The song came out of nowhere when I saw Monica fighting.”
“It was impressive,” Heidi commented.
"Least I could do. Monica's taking us to fight an Old God - we'll need more than one miracle song before this is over."
Her blonde hair was finally showing again, and her eyebrows looked almost normal.
Ted was reluctant to admit that if Heidi had been pretty before, now she had a weird quality to her looks that really intrigued him. He had to try really hard not to sneak looks at her all the time.
He stopped to gift some more money around, even to the families that had nothing to offer, which made the Phoenix Pyromancer perplexed.
“Is Monica going to be happy with you gifting her money around?” She asked.
“Dude, a hundred percent,” Ted said confidently before clearing his voice and looking around surreptitiously. “Just in case, though, don’t tell her. I’m sure she won’t even count the coin.”
* * *
Once they reached Madeline's house with their supplies, they found the woman waiting outside on the stone steps, wringing her hands anxiously. When she spotted them approaching, she hurried over.
"Ted, Heidi," Madeline called out softly, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I've been waiting for you both. Monica told me everything."
"Is everything okay?" Ted asked.
Madeline shook her head, reaching out to grasp one of their hands in each of hers.
"I needed to thank you properly. Both of you. For what you did in that dungeon." Her voice cracked. "For my Dotty."
Heidi tried to pull away, uncomfortable with the gratitude.
"Monica was the one who—"
"No," Madeline interrupted firmly. "Monica told me everything. How you," she squeezed Ted's hand, "played that song that gave them the strength they needed. And you," she turned to Heidi, "rushed in without hesitation to help fight that monster." She swallowed hard. "Either of you could have died in there. But you risked everything to save my daughter."
Ted rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "It wasn't really like that. I just played what came to me, and Heidi's the one who actually fought—"
"What he means," Heidi cut in, surprising herself by coming to Ted's defense, "is that we did what anyone would have done." She met Madeline's eyes. "Dotty is important to us."
Madeline released their hands only to pull them both into a fierce embrace. "Thank you," she whispered. "Wherever you go next, know that you'll always have a bed here. Both of you."
When she pulled back, wiping her eyes, Ted cleared his throat roughly and shuffled awkwardly.
"Speaking of which, we should probably get these supplies inside. And maybe check on Dotty?"
"She's resting," Madeline smiled. "But I'm sure she'd love to see you both before you go. Ronny's with her—poor thing hasn't left her side since you brought her back."
Dotty had been exhausted by being manhandled by Machina, perhaps an after-effect of the Corruption that entered her body through the Old Goddess’s touch. Or perhaps, just a result of fighting for so many days on end without rest.
* * *
Heidi watched as Ted handed the little boy Ronny half of the fresh stuffed bread roll that Gertrude had given him, even though she knew he must have been very hungry after running around all morning. The gesture made something twist uncomfortably in her chest as she remembered her harsh words to him when they had first met.
"Here you go, buddy," Ted said encouragingly.
Ronny took the bread shyly but gave Ted a small smile in return.
Heidi found herself studying Ted more closely as he chatted easily with the child, making him laugh with silly jokes despite the recent ordeal. There was a genuine warmth to him that she had completely missed in her righteous anger about his brief association with the cult.
"Would you like some too?" Ted's voice broke into her thoughts. He was holding out a piece of his remaining bread to her.
"I... what?" Heidi blinked in surprise.
"You've barely eaten anything," he said.
She stared at the offered food, feeling shame heat her cheeks.
"Thank you,” she said hesitantly.
“Everything good?” Ted frowned, seeing Heidi hold the bread roll in her hands without eating it.
“I treated you very poorly when we first met, even though you saved me.”
“Monica saved you,” Ted shrugged. “I was just tagging along.”
“Yeah, but you allowed Monica to save Dotty, Ted.”
“You too,” Ted pointed out. “You stepped into the Boss Room without anyone asking you to.”
“I owe Monica my new Class,” Heidi said. “But I also owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good, dude,” Ted raised a fist, and Heidi stared at it, confused.
“Bump it,” Ted said, bumping his own fist and then extending toward Heidi again.
The blonde awkwardly punched Ted’s fist, which made him theatrically hiss.
“Damn, so strong! Ronny, she almost broke my hand!”
The kid laughed heartily, and Heidi did the same without even realizing it.
They heard someone shout from outside before they could continue with their lunch.
“You wretched lot! Get out of the house and prepare to face the Duke’s justice!”