Chapter 176: A New Training Regimen (1)
Jump from here? What was this, some twisted way of saying, “Since you’re going to die anyway, let’s get it over with quickly?”
Alfoi asked with a trembling voice.
“What? Why? Why are we jumping?”
As it was, the falling speed was already so fast that it was hard to even keep his eyes open.
Currently, he was gripping the basket with both hands, fearing he might be flung out at any moment. Voluntarily jumping out of it? That was madness!
No part of him wanted to do something so terrifying.
But Kaor spoke quickly, as if there wasn’t even time to explain.
“You can’t properly judge how far the ground is while riding this thing! Even if you time the spell perfectly, if it tangles with the air pocket, something could go wrong! It’s safer to cast it outside!”
There was logic to his reasoning. If they got tangled with the contraption during the fall, it could end up being even more dangerous.
“Alright, fine! But do I have to jump out alone?”
“Are you crazy? I’ll hold onto you and jump, so just do as I say!”
As soon as Kaor finished speaking, he grabbed Alfoi’s waist and leapt out of the basket.
Jumping from such a height with no safety gear, only their bare bodies, was an absolutely terrifying experience.
The intense wind buffeted their bodies, and Alfoi squeezed his eyes shut and screamed again.
“Aaaaahhh! Save me!”
“Shut up! Just shut up already! I’ll gauge the distance and signal you. The moment I do, cast the spell! Got it? Stop flailing around! Hey, stop grabbing at me!”
“Aaaahhh! Alright!”
Kaor opened his eyes wide and focused his mind.
There was no room for error. Falling from such an enormous height, where the acceleration only increased, even a Swordmaster wouldn’t be able to survive unscathed.
It wasn’t necessary to hold out until they were on the verge of hitting the ground. As long as they reached a height he could endure, that would suffice.
Thanks to his recent training, his abilities had improved slightly. At a reasonable height, he could surround himself with mana and withstand the impact.
If worse came to worst, he was prepared to sacrifice an arm or two.
Vwoooom!
As the ground drew closer, their descent became even faster. A single blink of the eye and the distance between them and the earth shrank drastically.
Carefully calculating the distance, Kaor shouted at the precise moment they reached a survivable height.
“Now!”
Alfoi, who had been tightly shutting his eyes, immediately stretched out his hands and unleashed his mana upon hearing Kaor’s signal.
He gave it everything he had. Since learning magic, he’d never poured this much desperation into a spell.
Magic becomes riskier the less focus one has, but as the successor to the Crimson Flame Tower, Alfoi succeeded, his life hanging by a thread.
Thud!
The bodies of the two, which had been plummeting, suddenly stopped in midair.
“Ugh!”
“Eurgh!”
The sudden shift in force left their bodies in complete disarray. It felt as if their heads had been smashed with a hammer, and their insides were being twisted and crushed. Unable to endure the pain, the two screamed.
But it was still better than crashing into the ground and shattering their bodies entirely.
Sensing success, Kaor summoned all his mana with every ounce of strength he had.
All that remained was to use his own body as a shield to absorb the impact of landing.
That should have been enough...
Vwoooom!
Instead, the two bodies shot upwards at alarming speed once again.
“What? Hey, stop! Stop, you crazy idiot!”
Alfoi, overwhelmed by the shock and terror, had almost entirely lost his composure.
He’d had his eyes closed the entire time and had no idea how far they were from the ground. In his desperation to survive, he’d put too much into his spell.
“Stop it! You moron!”
Kaor’s shout brought Alfoi back to his senses, but by then, they were already rising to an incredible height.
“I—I’m sorry... I couldn’t control it... I used too much power...”
“Forget it! Focus! We nearly succeeded, so we’ll just try again. I’ll give you the signal aga—”
“I’m sorry... I’m out of mana now...”
“What?”
“I used up too much mana earlier when casting... and now I’ve pushed myself too far... I can’t do it anymore...”
Alfoi hung his head in shame, tears streaming down his face. His tone suggested he’d already given up on living.
Kaor was furious. It was understandable—this fool had squandered their one and only chance.
“You idiot! All you had to do was rise just enough to slow our speed and then stop!”
As the two bickered, Ghislain intervened, calming them down and listening to their account. After hearing the full story, he shook his head.
It seemed that the higher altitude had been too much for the airship’s balloon to handle. The combination of the wind pressure and the heat likely caused the balloon’s seams to give out.
Since they had gone well beyond the agreed safe altitude, it couldn’t be attributed solely to a flaw in the airship.
These two fools had brought danger upon themselves.
Even so, accidents could happen anytime and anywhere. Given the height, a single mishap could be life-threatening, so it was clear that further safety measures were needed.
A while later, the dwarves inspecting the crashed airship hesitantly approached.
They had crafted it with confidence, but the accident had understandably shaken them.
“What was the issue?” Ghislain asked.
“Well... we’re not entirely sure if it was the high-altitude winds, or if the air inside got too hot... But in any case, the seams of the balloon tore, and the fabric also ripped,” Galbarik replied politely. For someone so combative when things were in his favor, he was now noticeably deferential.
Nodding several times, Ghislain continued. “We confirmed it works fine up to the intended altitude, but reinforcement would still be better. Make the balloon three layers thick and cover the exterior with a mesh net for extra security. Also, think of ways to strengthen and secure other parts.”
“Yes, understood.”
After assigning the dwarves to reinforce and produce additional airships, Ghislain glanced around and addressed the onlookers.
“Well, there was a small accident, but you all saw that the flight worked fine, right? These two caused the problem by pushing too far, but as long as you go up at a reasonable height, it’s safe. If anyone wants to ride during the next test flight, just let me know.”
The crowd smiled awkwardly and shook their heads. No one wanted to go near something that dangerous.
In the awkward atmosphere, those who had finished cleaning up began leaving one by one.
Already busy with their own work, they had spent far too much time watching the airship and the ensuing accident.
As Claude returned to his office, he chatted casually with Wendy.
“The stuff the dwarves make isn’t always perfect, huh? Don’t you think so? Feels a bit shoddy, right?”
“...Sir Overseer, hold on.”
“Maybe all that reputation about dwarves is just hype. Like, ‘You guys are short, but at least you’re good with your hands,’ you know? A way to sugarcoat their whole species... Hey, don’t push me! Let’s walk slower! My legs hurt!”
Wendy shoved Claude away and hurriedly left, but the dwarves had already heard every bit of his sarcastic remarks.
“Ugh... that stings.”
Galbarik bit his lip repeatedly.
The first creation he made after arriving at the estate had failed.
True, Kaor and Alfoi had recklessly pushed the airship to dangerous heights, but it was undeniable that the safety tests should have foreseen such risks.
For a dwarven artisan, this was an unforgivable, bone-deep mistake.
“Let’s get moving. We’re going to work through the night if we have to and make this perfect.”
At Galbarik’s words, the dwarves nodded firmly.
This wasn’t just about finishing the job anymore; it was about preserving the pride of the dwarves.
Ghislain hadn’t scolded the dwarves too harshly because he understood this very nature of theirs.
On the way back to the workshop, Galbarik grumbled as he kicked at the ground.
“Ugh, look at all this dust. We need to sprinkle some water around here. Does it not rain in this place? It’s all dirt and dust everywhere.”
The weather had felt unusually dry recently. It hadn’t rained in quite a while, yet nobody seemed to care as if it wasn’t an issue.
When he asked around, people only replied that things had become slightly worse but not significantly different from before.
“But why does it keep getting hotter?”
As someone accustomed to fire and heat, Galbarik was more sensitive to weather changes than most.
The North was supposed to be cool, but instead, it felt hot and dry—practically desert-like.
He knew the land was harsh, but it seemed much worse now than when he first arrived.
“Tsk, tsk. I don’t know how people have been living here. Ah, but I have to live here now too, don’t I? I hate it.”
Coming from the warm and pleasant South, Galbarik had been struggling to adapt to the Northern climate.
“Ugh, the weather sucks, the work sucks, this place is just a dump. And that Overseer guy, the more I think about him, the more annoying he gets.”
Galbarik’s complaints continued all the way until they reached the workshop.
The truth was, it wasn’t the weather that bothered him so much—it was the sting of failure with the airship.
With nowhere else to vent, he used the weather as a convenient excuse to blow off steam.
While the dwarves grumbled and got back to work on the airship, Ghislain found the resting knights and spoke to them.
“You all rested well, didn’t you? Starting now, we’ll begin new training. There’s not much time left.”
The knights were taken aback. How long had it been since they last rested, and now he was already talking about more training?
Frankly, they didn’t want to do it at all.
Some of the bolder ones raised their hands and shouted, “We’re fine!”
“We’ve got plenty of time!”
Ghislain grinned and shook his head.
“No, I’m not fine. We don’t have time. Everyone, gather up.”
‘If I knew it’d be like this, I wouldn’t have become a knight.’
The knights, on the verge of tears, reluctantly got up and shuffled over to assemble.