Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Barraden’s head jerks upwards as he startles himself awake. He’s nodding off, and he can feel in his throat a sort of dampness that feels like he climbed three mountains in a row, and he can’t catch his breath no matter how long he rests as a result. He wants to go to sleep, but he knows it’s all around him now. Death’s grasp is closing in. He has no idea how many of his coworkers, friends, and rivals are still alive in the darkness. He’s too exhausted to check on anyone. It’s taking everything in his remaining strength to keep himself awake, let alone sitting upright. Most of the others have long since laid down of their own accord, or they’ve collapsed into a heap.

Please… Herith… If there is something I can do to avoid this terrible fate, please guide these hands of mine. Please grant me one more breath… I beg of you…

His eyes would be watering as he remembers his family, waiting for him to return home only to be informed soon if they haven’t already.

Please… I want to see them again. I will do anything… I will give my heart and soul…

A voice breaks out of the dim light of the lanterns, though as dry and as raspy as it is, Barraden could never guess who it was that said it. “Do you smell that?”

Barraden tries to look around, but his own vision is blurry at best. That said, having heard this, his nose picks up a strange touch to the odor of the deathly air. It’s not the sweat of the exhausted and filthy miners, nor is it the musty, stale smell of the idle mine and the still air within. It doesn’t even smell like any dangerous gases –the ones that a gatonine nose could pick up–.

A slight rumbling sound reaches his ears, and they flick atop his head for the first time in what feels like forever. Something other than suffering is finally prodding at his senses. He looks to his right, towards the collapsed mountain rock, and the rumbling seems to be growing closer, though slowly.

Barraden looks around, and a few pairs of eyes glisten as they meet his gaze, equally alerted by the strange sensations.

Suddenly, coming from the collapsed and impenetrable wall, a screeching sound startles everyone gathered in the main hall of the mine, or at least, those who have enough strength to be startled. Those who were asleep and thought dead finally stir, and those who can’t hear or smell anything abnormal finally look up.

The source of the terrible sound is a crimson glow in the center of the wall that becomes a sinister orange and then a bright white color as the rock starts to melt in a circular pattern roughly as wide as a person’s forearm is long.

The men who can watch in stunned awe, with some of them trying to cover their ears.

The fire spirits themselves seem to have burrowed straight through the impenetrable rock wall to reach the mine cavity, and a hissing whistle seems to squeeze out of the gaps around the magma-soaked nose of the salamander itself.

Or, at least, if it were one of the fire spirits sometimes referred to as salamanders.

The muzzle-like cone emerges fully, revealing itself to be a white-hot, glowing piece of metal that is emitting heat waves as the stone melts out of its way, and the cone drops a couple of inches, caught by a long, slender shaft that is only about an inch or two wide.

Rock drills exist, but are extremely slow and hard to use, because it takes a great deal of force to hold the drill against the rock and actually make progress burrowing through, since the drill is more like a sharpened spoon that a person turns by hand.

This thing is like a metallic embodiment of the essence of fire, burning as hot as dragon fire if it can melt through rock so easily, and just piercing through has already surged in the taste of tangy, sour air from the molten rock, but also a sort of freshness that makes the air feel more full mere seconds after the spirit metal broke through.

The men glance at each other in wonder, and they watch when the metal is clumsily pulled backwards, given the likely length of the attachment on the other end. The device is unable to retreat due to the shape of the cone, but whoever is operating it from the other end simply holds it against the rock. It shifts a little, twisting small amounts when it slips against the molten rock before the cone suddenly falls off, dropping to the floor with a thud. It loses its blue-white glow rather quickly, though the residual heat noticeably softens the ground and boils any moisture on the ground with a sharp and fast hiss.

The men all look at each other in surprise. The shaft that had been attached to the cone has remained, and the hole is almost big enough for a person to fit his head through, though that would be all.

Yet, after only a moment, something new starts to come out of the metal pipe that is laying in the molten mini-tunnel.

It’s completely invisible, but those closest to the terrifying new phenomenon are the first to feel it and implicitly know what it is.

“Air!? It’s air!”

“Air!? I don’t believe it!”

“Air! It’s air! Praise Herith! God in heaven! Thank you!”

Those who can feel revitalized as if they’ve just won an entire knight’s tournament themselves. They immediately start praying amidst their cheers and joyful sobs, and for those who are unconscious, the men try to speak to them as if it’ll help. For the first time in what feels like weeks, the miners have hope, and they sob like the day their first children were born, for those who know what it feels like directly.

Naturally, the miners have no way of knowing yet how this sudden surge of hope has come to pass, or how narrow the margin between life and death truly was for the ones who so readily cheer at the mere formation of a hole through the rock.

To them, it is life itself.

But, the rescue is far from over.

***

A few hours prior, the Fievegal’s away team arrives at the town Sundenelle is already staying in, deployed in three buses via a large portal after Neith carried a ‘target’ to the location.

The young albino Empress massages her temples as she takes in everything Daniel just explained. Daniel has been deprived of sleep, having worked tirelessly with Wenlianna, Reignleif, and Ahok to assemble some kind of devices that should help get the miners out of the mine.

But, the worse news is what happened to Baelok. It genuinely hurts Sundenelle’s heart. Though he doesn’t look it, Baelok was older than her grandparents. Sundenelle has met him many times, and he has been extremely important to the Empire’s magic research, especially in finding ways to hold back the more gifted demon-kin races. It may not be as necessary anymore, but losing Archmagus Baelok would be almost as devastating to the Empire as losing the Emperor himself.

Sundenelle has managed to keep the Empire going thanks to her education and many loyal retainers. At times, that has included Yaulander, but he has gotten far more aggressive lately. She can’t imagine it was solely Daniel’s somewhat boorish disregard for etiquette and bloodlines in favor of merit and effort.

To think that he would recklessly kill someone like Baelok as collateral damage… And, the mana fire… I can’t ignore his actions any longer.

Sundenelle sighs. With Daniel are Hekate, Neith, Zuzia –wearing a disguise as a miner–, Magnir, Senn –as Yuna–, Serrentuk, Treia, Veiranoei, Jeavana, and Yaulwembor. She feels like they came with the intention to vaporize the mountain off of the miners, rather than to try to dig them out. Though, she’s a little surprised Vaergraes and Aoloan didn’t join them this time.

Hekate, in particular, is in an excellent mood, clinging to Daniel's back and petting his head. Daniel asked early on, and Hekate’s only answer was, “I got to pet a benki. He was so fluffy and soft.”

Daniel absolutely spoils Hekate, since he simply lets her keep cuddling against him and petting him, now, as if comparing.

Daniel asks dryly, “Hekate… We need to have a serious…”

“Shh,” hushes Hekate as she leans her cheek against the back of Daniel’s head, still sliding her hand through his short hair. “Don’t mind me. I’m listening.”

Daniel has to resist the urge to massage his temple for obvious reasons, so he simply lets out a soft sigh and looks at Sundenelle with an apologetic smile.

Seeing their closeness makes Sundenelle a little envious, but she can address that once her relationship with Daniel has become more formal.

And, more difficult to dissolve for any reason…

Given the envious stares around them, she’s certainly not the only one.

For now, Sundenelle focuses on the dire task they dare not discuss over long-range communications. “You… think my mother can… revive him?” Her voice is cautious. She only knows a little about the strange ‘Daughter of Fate’ power Byleathea has, and which Hekate reasonably calls a curse, but that’s mainly because Byleathea only has a faint idea of exactly what the extent of that power actually is. With a human sacrifice, in Sundenelle’s case, the Emperor, Byleathea was able to save Sundenelle from a poison she didn’t know she had been afflicted with. Knowing what they know now, it probably didn’t have to be her father, but what fraction of information Byleathea knew at the time, and which the Emperor himself decided upon, was that the closer a person is to the person being saved, the more potent their sacrifice is in turn. Daniel creates a gap in that logic, but possibly because he does care about the people of the Fievegal, he was able to use himself inadvertently, and the fact that the ‘Fellmother’ as they’re calling it now had restored him to his magic-less state is likely what prevented him from actually dying.

Daniel replies sincerely, “I’m gambling on it, and it’s a long shot. Something that was told to me by… someone I can explain later while we were in the crater convinced me that the kind of power Byleathea has is probably fairly close to unlimited… provided a price is paid.” Daniel gestures at his eye patch, saying softly, “This was enough to protect a small handful of people for a few seconds against the most powerful manmade weapon on either of our worlds, but also with the near-infinite mana supply of the fire itself as well. Reviving a dead man after several days, if we want to try, might require more than just one person. Especially… knowing what little I know now.”

“So… this power wouldn’t work on my Father,” states Sundenelle to clarify as much declaring it to be so as asking to be sure.

“I don’t know much of a price it would take,” replies Daniel quietly, completely understanding of Sundenelle’s desire to know that after hearing of such a powerful defiance of death itself, assuming it’ll work.

Treia adds, “We knew about it shortly after Archmagus Baelok fell, which could have been in the window of a revival potation, but there were too many dangers for us to launch an assault, only to give away our involvement and defeat much of the purpose of everything that happened.”

“I’m not going to ask any further questions about Count Baumalde,” states Sundenelle. “It sounds like I don’t want to know, even though I bet I can figure it out. But, his presence in the Grand Principality without permission was its own set of issues, so I’ll leave it at that. What I need to know is the plan. If Yaulander never reports Baelok’s death himself, I can’t force him to confess.”

Neith answers this time, “Your Grace, allow me. We can confirm through Zuzia that Yaulander is planning to use Baelok’s death as the basis for accusing the Fievegal. Though, he seems to be leaning towards our target having been Baelok all along, rather than himself, since Baelok did end up dead, and conveniently enough, with firearms at that. Mornistae’s ‘tanju’ style guns are spreading, but they aren’t necessarily common knowledge yet, so he’s in the perfect window of opportunity to accuse us.”

“If it works, it opens the door to repeats of the same, but as a strategy, rather than a convenient excuse,” points out Veiranoei. “If your enemy is already fighting with a monster, you don’t stab him with your sword. You distract him so the monster can kill him.”

Treia asks her gatonine comrade, “Ooo, did Kalegrynten come up with that?”

Veiranoei blushes, replying, “He used to say it a lot, but I think it has been around for a long time. From his stories, his father was even more ruthless.”

“I know this is all important as well, but shouldn’t we be rushing to the miners?” asks Zuzia.

Sundenelle sighs. “Yes, but we’re waiting on word from the mine to deploy across the border. Though Ahmpur is grateful for stopping the mana fire, his Majesty is extremely wary right now, and one of his most important mines has now collapsed. His debts are increasing while his means of paying are decreasing, and all in a very short period of time.”

Ecklevon adds respectfully, “Bromlund was a longer, slower version of what Ahmpur is experiencing all at once right now.”

Hekate looks at Daniel, and he explains, “It’s a country that used to border Mornistae, but has since been absorbed by the Empire, Mornistae, and the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy after a violent eruption of public disorder.”

“If the kingdom didn’t survive, it’s also because the royal family didn’t survive, right?” asks Jeavana, partially illustrating it for Hekate’s knowledge, though the golden dragon hardly knows much more.

Sundenelle answers, “Two princes, a princess, and the former Queen are alive today under the protection of the Empire. The agreement to stabilize the region included surrendering the territory as it was divided, with discussions of restoring Bromlund to start when the eldest Prince comes of age. Most of our records still call it Bromlund, but that’s an issue for the future. To answer your question, Zuzia, I, Sundenelle, cannot authorize the Fievegal to deploy at present. Hardly anyone could stop you, of course, but that’s our present situation.”

“Then, send me and Neith, at least. Daniel…” Zuzia turns to her American counterpart to petition him. “If we waste time with politicking, actual people are going to die.”

Daniel looks at Hekate, since it’s supposed to be her call, but she is watching him for his answer, since she wholeheartedly trusts any decision Daniel makes in matters like this, even though he hardly trusts himself.

They have the devices. The water jet cutters are finicky, but Daniel made two of them so that they can be swapped out to troubleshoot and repair one if it clogs or otherwise breaks down.

If it does actually break, then they’re screwed, because they can’t afford to keep summoning sharmelkolle, lest they be right back in the position that led to the attack by Djihnlierr’s forces.

Hekate admits when Daniel takes a long time to answer, “If… it’s up to me, I would just take our whole troop in right now. But, I know that’s a bad idea. Though,... Is it bad of me to ask… if Ahmpur would be able to do anything about it?”

Hekate earns a few sighs, including from Daniel and Sundenelle together. The snow-haired Empress answers with her fingers pinching her nose, “Yes, that question is… Ugh… Nevermind. At face value, Ahmpur can’t do anything to you, you’re right. If you were to deploy half of the force you used to defend against Djihnlierr, Ahmpur would fracture in a week. Magnir alone with that bomber thing he used could probably conquer the kingdom in two. But, it’s everyone else you need to worry about, not least of which are my nobles and vassals. Yaulander’s strategy isn’t to fight you in open warfare anymore, unless he really feels like he can get everyone all at once. But, his real strategy will be to band everyone he can against you. If he can then gather an army the likes of which we’ve never seen, he might try to attack, but his main goal will simply be stonewalling the Fievegal in hopes that you’ll make mistakes or otherwise destroy yourselves.”

“I can make a terrible suggestion,” replies Senn as she holds up her hand. Everyone turns to the currently-black-haired elf, and she looks at Daniel for a moment as she makes her suggestion. “Since we’re going a pseudo ‘divine’ route with Baelok, assuming we go forward with it, what if we… do the same here?”

“How do you mean?” asks Sundenelle. “You want me to have my mother revive the dead?”

Senn shrugs slightly, saying, “That’s not something to ignore, but no. I’m saying that we have our very own god-blessed saint appear at the mine inexplicably, having wandered in among the chaos, pray for a divine blessing, and receive that blessing in the form of a sudden appearance of a strange set of divine artifacts, which she uses to rescue the miners.”

Sundenelle’s eyes widen as she leans forward, pressing her palms together in front of her nose as she absorbs this suggestion with a surprising level of seriousness. Her eyes tilt to Neith as she’s thinking, and she stares at him, piecing it all together.

Neith doesn’t seem to recall right away, and he shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m the best choice, your Grace. I have the bearing of a soldier, even if I can manage to hide my horns and tail.”

“Not that,” murmurs Sundenelle. “But, I can’t believe you haven’t told the rest of them…”

“Told us what?” asks Hekate skeptically.

“This man isn’t just Grand Prince Neith gur Lawson of the Fievegal. You are looking at Prince-Consort Larven of the Lorih’nimbael Empire, first of his name and probably father to a whole slew of princes and princesses on another continent!” Sundenelle’s voice rises in passion as she speaks, finishing with her standing up and almost accusing Neith of something terrible. Everyone looks at him with shock, and he’s just as stunned.

“I…! That was… First off, there was only the one time, and I was still afflicted by the curse! And all of that was a-... Oh…” Neith finally connects the dots, and he looks a little embarrassed and guilty. He looks at Hekate and Daniel, stating, “Her Grace Yuna’s plan has a great deal of merit…”

“Goddesses running around giving out blessings this month would ease the shock of one more happening to Lord Baelok,” remarks Veiranoei. “But, who will be our ‘saint’?”

Almost everyone immediately turns their gazes to Zuzia, and she flinches.

“Hell no!” retorts the brunette. “Going along passively is one thing, and probably bad enough as it is, but you want me to actively participate in blaspheming another religion!”

Daniel retorts, “It’s a fictional religion, at least. How bad can it be?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She stares at him with horror on her face, and Senn adds gently, “You don’t have to actually say you’re doing anything religious. All you have to do is show up, pray a bit, and then the tools that you need and mysteriously only you can use will appear in front of you. Father and I will handle that part.”

“But, if I’m disguising myself as a miner, wouldn’t I be digging instead of praying?”

“Not if you don’t go as a miner,” replies Serrentuk.

She looks at him in confusion, and Daniel gets it as well. “We’ll dress you like someone’s worried wife. No one will bat an eye… probably.”

Now Zuzia turns her stunned gaze on Daniel, and Jeavana bursts into laughter.

“Why are you laughing, dummy? You’re going with her.”

This halts the golden blonde just as quickly, but she then retorts, “Uh, Mukori, I know you like to tease me, but, *ahem*.” She gestures at her own tail and horns.

“I’m well aware. You’ll be on overwatch out of sight. If something happens that we need to get Zuzia out in a hurry, we’ll need you to swoop in and grab her. Teleportation won’t work on her.”

Jeavana pouts, having been defeated. “Alright, fine… At least I don’t have to dig through mud and rock in a dress…”

“What about the rest of us?” asks Hekate. “What will we do?”

“I’d like us to get there as fast as possible, but we’re probably on thin ice with Ahmpur as it is. Treia and Veiranoei could probably blend in, but the spear and the jet cutter both require superhuman strength to wield in their current forms. My goal was for us to provide logistical support, but if we can’t get permission to cross the border, we need to consider our options more carefully.”

“I’ll go anyways,” replies Veiranoei. “I doubt many people in the area will recognize me, and I can still feed Zuzia the pipes as we practiced. Especially because no one else might realize what needs to be done.”

“In that case, I’ll go, too,” adds Treia. “If it were Gwen, she’d be more easy to recognize because of her hair color, but mine’s pretty common. A little dirt on my cheeks, and no one will know. We’ll feed Zuzia the extra shafts so she can keep the spear going. As for the jet cutter…”

“Hold on, I still haven’t agreed to this plan,” states Zuzia. “Isn’t there some other way? Gate the whole mountain away? Teleport inside? Ground magic?” Serrentuk, Senn, and Hekate all shake their heads. The mountain is obviously too big for Serrentuk’s Gate to handle in one go, and teleportation requires some kind of thorough knowledge of the location; either direct visual contact or a definitive pre-image of the target area. Hekate and Senn have no idea what the layout of the mine is, where the collapse stops, and where the people are. And, if it were so simple with Earth magic itself, the Kingdom of Ahmpur’s mages would be able to handle it.

Daniel adds gently, “It’ll be an easier sell than one person showing up with a shovel that can go straight through rock without breaking and the strength to actually wield it. But, I won’t force you. If we can’t get permission, we can try to tunnel from the Imperial side.”

Sundenelle and Ecklevon are both surprised, and the young Empress says seriously, “Daniel… That’s at least five miles of solid rock that hasn’t been touched at all.”

Daniel nods. “Yep. The jet cutter shouldn’t care much, as long as we keep a slight upward angle to the tunnel to drain the slurry out. Might take a few more days…” Daniel looks at Zuzia, which is all the more obvious because he has to turn his head more to see her with his left eye.

Zuzia slumps back in her seat dramatically, doing her best to melt into an actual puddle as she lets out the longest, most dramatic sigh of her life. She grumbles something that’s obviously in her native tongue, and Sundenelle can only smile sympathetically. Zuzia is a good person overall, and she’s likely the primary reason the Fievegal made any effort at all.

Ahmpur is directing most of their gratitude towards the Empire, retaining a rather cold outlook towards the Fievegal.

Veiranoei remarks, “Also, if Ahmpur finds out that we did somehow dig into their mine from the far side, it would certainly lead to tension.”

Zuzia points, “Twenty four hours. If I punch through the rock to get those guys some air and water, and you still haven’t heard from Ahmpur’s king, I expect you to come in force anyways. Lives should be more important than these stupid games.”

Daniel nods. “Deal. But, days are twenty-nine hours here, not twenty-four.”

Zuzia scowls at him, and she throws the closest teaspoon at him while Sundenelle relaxes a little. “I’m fine with this plan. Ahmpur requested our assistance, but if I feign a little extra time required, I can contract the Fievegal in a mercenary capacity. Though… this will somewhat cheapen the Fievegal’s reputation in that sense.”

“Cheapen our reputation?” asks Hekate, not understanding. If anything, it sounds like the perfect excuse to use immediately.

Serrentuk answers, “Yes, it’s a concern at times to sell one’s services like a common mercenary, especially on a national or territorial scale. It creates the illusion that one’s loyalties lie with money, whether that’s true or not.”

“I’ll do jobs for our enemies if they’re willing to compensate us,” retorts Hekate without hesitation. “We’ll learn as much about them as they will about us, and like Zuzia said, saving lives is important.” She shrugs with her palms up adding a little smugly, “The Fievegal isn’t worried about what others say about us. If they want to follow us through the trail we blaze, they’re welcome to come along. And, if they want to stay behind, that’s all fine too. We’ll outlast the mountains with or without everyone else.” She suddenly shrinks her ego almost as fast as she put it on, and she looks at Daniel. “That’s okay, right?”

Daniel chuckles and pets her head. “Yes, your Greatness. That’s what I believe, too. I’m sure we’ll encounter some struggle and pain because of our outlook, but if we bend to everyone else’s ways, we’ll be just one more crab in a bucket, rather than birds that can fly.”

“Crabs… in a bucket?” asks the feldrok teen, and the other Zenkon natives are also similarly curious about the expression.

Daniel smiles gently, and he explains even though it means the joke doesn’t land quite as well. Regardless, they quickly prepare Zuzia, who will be deposited in a stealthy location near the mining town to approach the mine, and from there, Senn and Serrentuk will orchestrate the ‘show’ of making her look like a suddenly-blessed wife helping her husband trapped in the mine.

Getting air and water to them are the highest priorities, and after that, they’ll have to move based on Ahmpur’s cooperation.

Or, lack thereof, if it comes to that.

***

Zuzia murmurs as she walks through the simple town that is within walking distance of the mine itself. It’s actually a pretty nice place, considering the era that they’re in, which has a general ‘Victorian’ feel, though the magic technology can vastly skew that feel in some areas either direction. The fact that Daniel was the one to push for recreationally potable alcohol because of the sterilization magic preventing the general discovery of many of the oldest fermentation methods used on Earth is just one example of how Zenkon is ‘backwards’, while it probably wouldn’t have been long before horseless carriages started appearing on Zenkon before Daniel, given how intelligent Wenlianna and Ahok alone are.

The mining town is pretty standard; remote and rather insular, so the buildings are fairly simple and quaint, with most of the people weary and exhausted from dealing with the mine collapse. Some are already fleeing town, it seems, given the carriages loaded with every possible thing that can fit outbound to the east, north, or south.

There are soldiers from the Kingdom, and the three ladies, Zuzia, Treia, and Veiranoei carry the flowers they picked to sell their worry as they make their way towards the mine entrance.

“This is never going to work…” murmurs Zuzia. She knows the other two can hear her significantly better than she can hear them, so she doesn’t need to speak too loudly. “The place is crawling with soldiers.”

“Just don’t worry about it too much,” replies Treia. “Short of being shot, which two of us need to worry more than the third about, Jeavana can reach us in time. And, if she moves, the rest are coming in immediately. Though we’re not royalty right now, Daniel and Hekate will never let us die.”

Zuzia asks, “About that… Doesn’t it bother you guys that Hekate is so reliant on Daniel?” She looks at the two feline women, who are successfully wearing somber expressions.

Veiranoei answers first, “I think her past is more pitiful than her present insecurities, so I’m glad she can be happy. I envy her for having Daniel to shield her from her fears now.”

“She’s a bit too dependent, like a girl being spoiled a bit. But, she’s dependable with or without Daniel, as long as she knows which direction to take things. If she had to, she would be wielding that shovel you asked for trying to dig them out herself.”

“True,...” murmurs Zuzia with a soft smile. Hekate was the first to arrive to try to help Zuzia, and the Polish brunette punched her in the chest on reflex because she was startled. Thankfully, Hekate survived, but it’s definitely something Zuzia has to work on to ensure it’s not someone more delicate if it ever happens again.

“Alright. Well, let’s try not to make any trouble for our adorable little leader.” Zuzia takes a breath and exhales. She’s not nervous because of any chance of danger. She wants the plan to go as planned because it means the least amount of trouble and highest chance of success.

The three reach the mine entrance, and they place the flowers out of the way as miners quickly try to pickax the rock away, but they also have to contend with the loose dirt and gravel of a mudslide that came down as well.

Veiranoei remarks quietly, “They’ve barely reached the entrance itself…”

“If this is where we’re at after six days,... I don’t think the odds are good,” adds Treia.

“I won’t give up until we know,” replies Zuzia. “I don’t want to see it, but if I must face… what’s in there,...” She trails off and pauses for a moment. “Let’s just get started.”

The two gatonines nod, and Zuzia subtly dabs water onto her cheeks, doing her best to look sad as she walks right into the center of the area around the entrance. Naturally, no one pays her any mind as she prays. Though the plan will be a farce, there’s no reason she can’t be sincere in her prayer, so she starts softly and sincerely.

“Heavenly Father, please grant me the strength to help the men of the mine see their families again. Please watch over them as they cling to the precious lives they cherish, hopeful to see the sun you’ve so generously granted to us all. Please guide my hands as your instruments, and let me help these men find solace in this life long before finding themselves in your presence. This, I pray, Amen.”

Just as she finishes, a sudden brightness draws her attention towards the sky. She’s not the only one. Rivalling the sun itself and piercing through the partial overcast of the clouds that seem to be matching the mood is a patterned circle that spans several kilometers across, glowing a divine golden color. It’s honestly breathtaking, and though Zuzia recognizes it as a magic circle in the strictest sense, the appearance doesn’t seem to match what she has seen Senn and Serrentuk use thus far.

People start murmuring and calling out as everything comes to a stop. It’s obviously startling and even terrifying, but Zuzia does wonder if their plan to pose as a divine blessing will fail simply because this world is highly familiar with magic as a daily occurrence in some capacity. She even hears one of the soldiers call out, “Is that an explosion spell!?”

But, a column of golden light descends like a beam, centered on Zuzia. She can feel a tingling passing across her skin, but it doesn’t vaporize her comely dress and simple hair tie. It’s more of a warm wind descending down on her, or even a simple heat lamp focused on her.

The light gets even brighter, and then brighter still. The warmth increases, and her clothes and hair flutter. Meanwhile, Zuzia thinks she can make out two additional magic circles in the sky layered over the first.

If Senn and Serrentuk are casting the first two, who’s casting the third? wonders the Polishwoman idly as she waits for the show to conclude. She is in awe, since it is beautiful, so she doesn’t have to fake that part.

Is it Hekate? Or, I guess Yaulwembor is able to copy magic without effort, isn’t she? Must be nice. I spent all day carrying those three around yesterday, and I can barely hold simple footholds for myself.

The light pillar(s) surrounding Zuzia finally flash to maximum brightness like a lightning bolt before fading away, and Zuzia looks around. Floating in front of her is the first piece of the ‘Lava Spear’, as Daniel called it for simplicity. Though the ‘spear’ itself won’t become lava, it will quickly earn its namesake if it works as it’s supposed to.

Zuzia can’t deny the powerful technology and equipment the Fievegal has over everyone else. Daniel himself won’t hide that the Citadel enabled him in large part, but she does wonder how much he has actually contributed and how much is the work of others making it possible.

Then again, he doesn’t deny the help he has received, and I’m the one using this thing… Damn you, Daniel. Why do you have to be decent? Why can’t you be a sleazeball to match the whole ‘harem’ thing?

With a soft smile, Zuzia takes the spear as if it’s a precious thing, and it glows in direct response to her touch. Apparently, sharmelkolle changes colors in reaction to mana crossing its surface, which is all around them in some amount, but when concentrated even more, the colors get vibrant. And, Zuzia has a lot of mana that isn’t useful to her like a sorceress or someone like Hekate, but she is a borderline invincible machine of destruction because of the amplification applied to her body.

She’s also one of the few people in the world that probably felt almost nothing from the nuke’s ‘anti-magic wave’ that circled the world, since she is virtually immune to having her mana negated as an extra layer of protection.

“E-Everyone! I… I think… I think I can help! Please move!”

Zuzia runs straight for the mine entrance carrying the spear. She finds the area the rescue teams have already cleared, though they try to stop her. “Please, you don’t understand! I have to help him! Please!”

“Wait! What is that!?” calls out one of the miners blocking her way.

“I-It’s called Włócznia Peruna. I… I heard a voice in the light before the spear… Please!”

Unable to deny their eyes, even if it was all a bit of a ruse, the miners back away, giving Zuzia the room to reach the actual wall where they were piles of rocks are already broken in a desperate effort to make it through. But, like Veiranoei pointed out, the lack of timbers for the mine entrance itself suggest this is a boulder or other part of the mudslide.

Still, as long as the ground doesn’t shift again, the newly-dubbed Włócznia Peruna should have no trouble at all burrowing through the rock… Assuming Daniel isn’t full of hot air.

Please let this work, thinks Zuzia in silent hope.

She subtly flips the switch on, and she instinctively jumps slightly when the head of the ‘spear’ immediately starts growling, venting hot air almost immediately. Within seconds, it starts glowing red, orange, white, and then a bluish-white as the rumbling shifts to a soft hiss. The heat waves and sounds have also startled the couple of miners looming directly behind Zuzia back a step, but they watch in wonder as the spear literally starts to glow.

Zuzia takes a breath and exhales, pushing the tip forward against the rock as she holds her breath and narrows her eyes to protect them. She should be fine, but she still doesn’t want a pile of molten lava to splash directly into her eyes. She doesn’t want to find out the ways she can be hurt, even if her body defies Earth reason here on Zenkon.

Thankfully, a loud, growling burble starts to emanate from the point of contact, as well as a slight, screeching hiss that grows in volume the further the spear sinks into the rock. Like a heated pen being pushed into butter, the rock gives way and rapidly melts, oozing down the wall in front of Zuzia.

Okay, what did he say? Let’s see… Clockwise safe, counterclockwise… Ah, to hell with it.

Zuzia starts to turn the spear to help make sure the melting rock can vent from all angles via the grooves that will allow the main spear body to push forward and the rock to exit behind. She can then scoop the whole spear back to pull the molten rock out like the world’s craziest cotton swabbing operation.

But, as she turns the spear slowly to the left, there’s a distinct click, and the glow immediately dissipates.

“Kurna!” blurts out Zuzia under her breath. “Jak zwykle…” grumbles the Polish woman. Murphy’s Law at work.

She quickly shakes the spear as if something went wrong and she’s panicking, but she knows exactly what happened. There is one correct direction for her to twist the spear, and one incorrect one, depending on which of the two situations she’s in. And, she picked the wrong one.

Zuzia coughs, saying loudly, “Oh, heavenly Father, please grant me your divine light in this dark cave to reach our allies.” As she’s saying this, she quickly relaxes the twist and flips the ‘on’ switch on the back end of the spear’s stubby lance-like head. It immediately starts rumbling again, and Zuzia carefully turns it clockwise as she pushes the spear forward. She has about two meters of shaft, so she’ll need the next attachment very soon. Surprisingly, the spear carves into the rock rather efficiently, leaving a half-meter hole, so long as she clears out the leftover slag that doesn’t slowly flow out on its own. She gets the shaft end close to the hole as the men babble and cheer on her efforts. Her hands can actually withstand the heat, though she can feel it. Serrentuk also used magic to make her clothes temporarily fireproof, but he said it’ll only last about an hour or so.

Regardless, she has to keep up the illusion that she’s a normal young woman being helped directly by God, or in this world’s case, whoever they mistakenly come to believe is blessing her at this moment with her explicit omission of who this ‘Heavenly Father’ is, since their context won’t necessarily be the same as hers.

Zuzia pulls the spear back to scoop out the liquefied rock, and she calls out, “Stand back!” The rock pours out rather quickly because of her strength, considering it has the consistency of cold tar or molasses, but the spear is genuinely more effective than Zuzia gave its makers credit for.

The problem is, Zuzia has essentially created a dead zone between her and the wall because of the amount of molten rock. It’ll take time to cool, and asking for water or ice magic will only create a new wall in front of them.

Huh… This could have been a problem. Damn it… I wonder how deep the collapse is. The spear is still glowing, and Zuzia ponders her options.

What would a woeful and terrified young wife do in this situation?

It’s actually an easy answer, since Zuzia already wants to do it.

The young wife who has already faced this part of the challenge with a divine instrument of God protecting her wouldn’t hesitate to continue to trust in God.

In this case, Zuzia’s blessings already extend to her body, and Serrentuk is protecting her clothes.

Daniel, you better be making beer right now instead of twiddling your thumbs.

Zuzia steps forward with her head high and her resolve unwavering.

The miners, who correctly understand what is being done to the rock, try to stop her. But, the heat is too much for them, and they cry out.

However, every single protest ceases the moment Zuzia’s Fievegal-issue boots burn away. Gah! My boots! Why did you… No… Serrentuk, you wouldn’t, would you?

Zuzia pictures Serrentuk, who had her murder him in order to free him from Count Contarro’s control. Adding weight to Zuzia’s ‘divine’ blessings for this pseudo-stageplay is exactly something Serrentuk would do in the spur of the moment.

“Look…!” calls out one of the miners behind Zuzia breathlessly as she stays focused, inserting the lance head back into the glowing hole once more. She can smell the instantly incinerated leather, rubber-like material, and the fabrics of her laces and socks burning away, but her feet are completely unharmed. Though, they’ll get dirty as a result.

“Unbelievable…” whispers another. “Even without water or ice magic…”

Zuzia pushes the spear in at a steady pace, turning it clockwise to ensure it doesn’t bind up, and she reaches the end. “It’s not long enough!” calls out Zuzia.

“Here!” cries out a woman’s voice, as if –and most truly– on cue. The men and Zuzia look back to find Veiranoei and Treia jogging in with an extra length each. “These were on the ground where you were, Miss! There’s a lot of them! Please! Please help my brother!”

“That’s it! Thank goodness! That’s what I need! Please, pass it to me!”

The miners quickly stop Treia and Veiranoei from rushing close, but they pass the extra shafts obediently, with the closest man handing one to Zuzia. She quickly lines up the threaded piece as she speaks aloud, “Heavenly Father, bind these blessed shafts that I may reach the men deep within!” She tries to move as quickly as possible so that they don’t realize it’s a simple threaded shaft, and that there’s nothing at all divine about Włócznia Peruna, other than Zuzia naming it after an ancient god of myth.

Once it’s snug, she continues making progress through the rock wall, and she exclaims happily, “It’s working! Please have the next one ready just in case!”

“We’ll go get more!” cries out Veiranoei. The two gatonine women rush back, and the miners that are further back call out, “We’ll assist them! Watch over her!”

“Right!”

With this, a system falls into place where Zuzia operates Włócznia Peruna more like a pipe snake than an augur. And, when she reaches the end of the second shaft, she pulls the molten rock out, ensuring to free her feet before the rock cools around her. The men have to stay back, but they continue to be amazed as Zuzia fearlessly stands amidst actual lava to try to save their comrades.

That said, Zuzia is still fundamentally human, and the heat is making her sweat a bit while molten slag splashes on her sometimes, and her hands get dirty from the shaft of the spear. As soon as she gets the lance back into its maximum depth, she is handed the third shaft, and she repeats her prayer/chant while attaching it to keep going.

There is a sort of rush that has taken hold of her due to the excitement of the miners as they cheer her on, seeing with each shaft that gets added that she’s making more progress in minutes than they have in a week, simply because of a variety of issues.

She feels bad that she won’t be able to simply dig out the whole tunnel to save everyone right now, but she will be able to start the process. And, if there are any signs of life, she might be able to send messages by taps, yelling, or something else.

But first, she has to find the cavity of the mine, and six meters still hasn’t reached it.

Thankfully, everyone involved on the Fievegal side saw this as a possibility, so there should be plenty of spare shafts, unless the whole mountain came straight down, which isn’t impossible, but hopefully not the case.

And, before she knows it, Zuzia and the ‘blessing’ she received will be granting hope to far more than just a handful of exhausted miners.

***

A/N 1: “Włócznia Peruna” is Polish for “Spear of Perun”, with Perun being a God of the ancient Slavic pantheon, particularly the highest, similar to Odin of Norse mythology. As for “Włócznia”, the locals of Zenkon will hear something (and spread/remember it as) “Vuwashnia”, which is not entirely correct, but such is the magic of dialects, accents, and such. So, if you see ‘Vuwashnia’

going forward, it is the Eastern Imperial Trade pronunciation of the Polish word for ‘spear’ (though, they’ll be exclusively using it to refer to a newly-legendary tool/weapon handed down by the god Herithania).

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