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The Survivor Game [LitRPG, From Zero To OP]
Chapter 32 - Towards the Heart of the Forge

Chapter 32 - Towards the Heart of the Forge

Marshmallow and the Goat Horse had spent the last half-hour wandering through the Gear Savannah. It wasn't exactly a welcoming place. With every step they took, they felt as if they might encounter a lion with bolts for a mane, ready to turn their digital flesh into a pile of bones. Plus, the risk of running into some Novgovians was always just around the corner.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" the Goat Horse asked in his human form, raising an eyebrow. He was well aware that they were making a circular route, to the point where he began to recognize the same bushes of bolts.

"Unless the compass has decided to play a trick on us, I'd say yes," Marshmallow sighed. They had decided to head north. "But honestly, I'm starting to doubt it myself."

The Goat Horse sighed as well. If they were heading north, how come they kept seeing the same bushes? "Gear Savannah... the name says it all. My friend, it seems this place plays nasty tricks on metallic devices."

SCRRR… SCRRR…

"See? Now even compasses start making weird noises. I think it's broken," the Goat Horse exclaimed, looking at the navigation tool with frustration. "This is just great, at this rate, we'll never find the Metal Moose Tower."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Marshmallow replied, bringing the compass to his ear. "It's not broken; it's emitting a distinct sound. It sounds like a radio signal..."

"But from whom?" The Goat Horse leaned in, intrigued.

"I have no clue. It's garbled, but it's the first sign of life we've come across. Wait?" Marshmallow's voice carried a thread of hope.

Marshmallow then began to zigzag. "What's happening? Did the radio waves get into your head and fry your brain?" The Goat Horse crossed his arms, trying to figure out what was going on.

"You wish." Marshmallow shot back, slightly annoyed. "The signal seems to change intensity if we move in a certain direction. Let's go... this way." Marshmallow started moving in the opposite direction they had initially aimed for.

The Goat Horse, curious, followed him. "Really? So, it's like playing 'Hot, Cold, and Warm'. They're giving us directions."

Marshmallow nodded, focused. "Exactly. If we proceed south... Right!" The rustling in the compass grew slightly louder, confirming his theory.

"Well done!" The Goat Horse exclaimed. "Then let's follow the signal. Maybe it will lead us out of this junkyard maze."

So, with caution and renewed enthusiasm, Marshmallow and the Goat Horse began to follow the direction indicated by the signal, paying attention to variations in intensity to ensure they were on the right path. After a few minutes of careful walking, the signal became strong enough to intercept the first words. However, the words were in a language that neither of them could understand.

"Look there!" Marshmallow said, pointing to a structure semi-hidden among the mechanical vegetation. It was a hut made from scraps of metal, with a rusted antenna poking out from the roof, clearly the source of the radio signal.

"It looks like we've found our mysterious radio station," the Goat Horse said with a smile. "Now, let's see who's inside."

As they approached the hut, the door creaked open, revealing an odd-looking elderly man wearing an oil-stained apron and a set of magnifying glasses on his forehead, typical of watchmakers or mechanics who work on very small details.

And here’s another character...

"Oh, finally!" the old man exclaimed, slapping his device. "I was starting to think my transmitter had turned into just a knick-knack."

"You... sent the signal?" Marshmallow asked, still a bit wary.

"Yes, yes, exactly! My name is Eldrin. And you are?" The man scrutinized them as if they were two interesting but yet unidentified components of some complex machine.

"I'm Marshmallow, and this is the Goat Horse. We're looking for the Metal Moose Tower." Marshmallow replied, still somewhat disoriented by the chaotic environment of the hut, filled with half-finished projects and tools of all kinds.

"The Metal Moose Tower, eh? Interesting tourist choice," Eldrin laughed, jangling some gears in the process. "But I'm afraid you'll have some difficulty getting there at the moment."

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"Difficulty? What do you mean by difficulty? What kind of difficulty?" The Goat Horse crossed his arms with palpable interest in the air.

Eldrin scratched his chin, then approached a map hung on the wall, all marked up and full of annotations. "You see, there's been a small... machine uprising here in the Gear Savannah. Nothing to worry about too much for an old mechanic like me, but it might be a problem for those trying to reach the tower."

"A machine uprising?" Marshmallow approached to take a closer look at the map. "Is the situation so severe that it's impossible to get through?"

"Impossible? No, I wouldn't say that, here's where I come into play," Eldrin smiled with a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes. "I've worked on some of the machines around here for... well, quite some time. I think I can help you get through. But you'll need to help me with a little project I'm working on."

"A project?" The Goat Horse raised an eyebrow. "What are we talking about?"

"Nothing too complicated." Eldrin approached a drawing board covered in schematics and notes. "My goal is to restore the Heart of the Forge, a central control station that maintains the balance of machines here in the Gear Savannah. Unfortunately, it's been infected with a virus that caused this uprising."

Marshmallow stepped closer, looking at the schematics. "So, we need to get to this control station and clean it from the virus?"

"Exactly," Eldrin confirmed. "And it's no small feat. We'll need to traverse the Gear Savannah, solve mechanical puzzles to access the station, and then recalibrate the system. But I'm confident that, with your skills and a bit of ingenuity, we can make it."

The Goat Horse exchanged a look with Marshmallow, who responded with a determined nod. "Alright, Eldrin. It seems we don't have much of a choice but to help you to get through. So, do we have a deal?"

Eldrin grinned, pleased with their decision. "Excellent! Gear up, folks. With your help, we'll be able to restore order in the Gear Savannah and clear the path to the tower!"

***

As the last rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks of Eldrin's hut, the trio finalized preparations for their impending venture into the Gear Savannah. After meticulously checking their gear and studying the maps, they agreed to take a short break, accepting Eldrin's invitation to sit down for a joint meal before departure.

Eldrin, with an enthusiasm unmatched by his culinary skills, offered to cook for everyone. "I've got something special for you," he announced, heading towards a small corner stove that seemed to have been constructed from parts more suited to an old machine than a kitchen appliance.

Marshmallow watched with a mix of curiosity and slight apprehension. The prospect of a hot meal warmed his heart, considering that one of the main challenges of the Survivor Game was the constant battle against hunger. However, the DIY appearance of Eldrin's stove did not bode well in terms of gastronomy.

The Goat Horse, less concerned about the quality of the food and more interested in the quantity, settled into an improvised chair, clapping his hands in excitement. "I can't wait to taste Eldrin's cooking. I bet he has some mechanical dishes that are to die for!"

Marshmallow looked at him with disdain. "Didn't you say you didn't need to eat?"

The Goat Horse appeared embarrassed. "Well, it seems that's only true in the Ashenwood. Outside of it, I need to eat like all of you."

After a few minutes of pot clanging and sizzling sounds, Eldrin approached the table, carrying three steaming plates. "Here you go, my specialty! The Mechano-Mystic Broth!" He exclaimed, with a smile that left no doubt about the success of his creation.

The dish presented to them was a kind of thick, grayish soup with pieces of mechanical vegetation floating on the surface, which to an untrained eye might have looked like bits of metal picked from various junkyard scraps.

Marshmallow, with a nauseated face, took a spoonful of the broth and tasted it. His expression, initially tense in anticipation of a culinary disaster, relaxed slightly. "Hey, it's not as bad as it looks, tastes like chicken!" He said, surprised by the decent flavor despite the unappealing appearance.

The Goat Horse nodded vigorously, devouring the contents of his plate with an enthusiasm that suggested hunger had taken precedence over good taste. "Eldrin, you're a wizard in the kitchen... or maybe it's just the hunger talking!"

Eldrin laughed, clearly pleased with their reaction. "The important thing is it gives energy, right? After all, we have a long journey ahead."

In the convivial atmosphere that followed, with laughter and exchanges of anecdotes, the tension of the preparations seemed to lighten. Then, Marshmallow noticed a slight tinkling, a sign of a new notification within the game. A game screen appeared floating in front of his eyes, drawing the attention of his companions.

"Uh, guys, take a look at this," he said, pointing to the notification that only he could see clearly.

The Goat Horse tried to visually grasp the holographic message. "What does it say?" he asked, full of curiosity.

NOTICE

Eldrin has joined your party!

Optional Quest: The Heart of the Forge

Traverse the Gear Savannah and restore The Heart of the Forge. The central control station must be freed from the influence of the virus to bring balance back to the machines.

Threat level: very high*