Not (Just) A Mage Lord Isekai-Chapter 34 - Hobby Projects

The initial trip up the far side of the valley from the hot springs was a slog. Easily the most difficult since we'd built Fang. There was rarely a stretch longer than a hundred feet of even terrain before we had to wrestle her up.

Inertia's drakes actually helped a great deal on the ascent. They were slow and sluggish, somehow even moreso, outside of the springs, but they had a lot of power. Once Inertia got them going in a direction, they had a lot of… well, inertia.

If not for Vaserra's assurances that Fang would be useful once we cleared the ridge, I would've been tempted to dismantle her. Not that Calbern would've allowed that, no matter how out of sorts he'd been since he’d embarrassed himself.

When we cleared the top, it was late evening. The wind carried a harsh chill down my neck even as the sun baked us. Somehow, it felt like I was burning up while shivering at the same time.

There was a reason they were called the Frigid Peaks.

Ahead of us, crisscrossing each other like piles of floor dry thrown against each other were several ridges. Along their top was a winding road. It was inferior to the actual highroad, though there were sections of the old high road that had been used.

Between the ridges and road, lay the vales where the Frost Riven’s sheep frolicked. Vaserra didn't want us to camp in the vales, worried we might spook them. It was a shame they didn’t want to sell them, since it seemed that whatever breed of sheep they were using didn’t need much tending. Then again, we did set camp inside a wooden fort her clan had built precisely so they wouldn’t scare the sheep.

Having three giant wolves join us around the campfire made things surprisingly cozy. I was glad Inertia had chosen to continue to the next ridge with her drakes.

They'd been helpful getting Fang up, but Tresla wasn't wrong. They stank. It had been less noticeable when we'd been working amid the hot springs, cause everything had a sulfurous odor. Yet once we'd moved away, it became clear how the sulfur had somehow been improving the smell.

"You may lean back, warrior Calbern. Frost Lily will not mind," Vaserra said, proving the truth of her words by sitting in front of the giant wolf and settling back against her.

Said wolf turned her head, laying it down beside Vaserra, immediately receiving head scratches.

"I believe I shall remain standing, hunter Vaserra," Calbern replied, remaining exactly where he was.

I yawned while shifting against Snow Patter. Intelid, Vaserra's companion with the weathered face and long white hair, had invited me over when we'd settled for the night and his wolf made for a comfortable cushion. Intelid had wanted to know more about my home, especially what life was like without sheep. By the time I'd finished explaining, he seemed more confused than when I started, but I chocked it up to my poor explanation skills. "Calbern, don't be so rude. It's not like you."

Calbern stiffened for a second. His teeth visibly clenched before he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "As you wish, master Perth."

"Weird seeing him so stiff, like his limbs are made of sticks," Tresla whispered from beside me, a thick needle and piece of drake leather in hand.

"I think he's still upset about getting drunk," I said as I watched her struggle to push the needle through the leather. "Did you need help with that?"

"No. It's fine. There's no point in taking up a hobby if I have someone else do it for me," Tresla said, leaning forward as though she could somehow use her body weight to push the needle through. Even if that was a valid tactic, I didn't imagine her four foot frame could weigh that much. In fact, based on how much more we loaded on her side of Fang to balance the weight, I knew she couldn't have been more than seventy pounds.

"Might be easier if the needle was sharper. Or hot," I suggested, leaning back and closing my eyes.

There was the sound of rustling for a second then Tresla huffed out a soft laugh. "Wrong needle," was all she said before making a satisfied grunt.

I nodded, letting myself drift as I channeled mana into my grimoire. I hadn't been using Memory Palace as much lately, but I had a theory I wanted to check. I was making solid progress, already moving towards upgrading my Astral soul to Pegasus. I'd gotten a lot of advice from Nexxa, which, considering I'd built my second spell slot in less than a tenth of the time the book had suggested was possible, was probably better than anything I could look up. Still, I'd hit a snag she'd never mentioned, and I suspected my mixed affinities were creating issues she didn't have as a nearly pure mage.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

As the garage came into place, I breathed out a soft sigh. I didn't miss Nexxa as much these days, but occasionally it'd still hit me.

Then I smiled. It was nice to care about someone enough to miss them.

It didn't take me long to find the book I was looking for. Instead of simply absorbing it, I sat down to page through relevant sections.

I'd been right. My affinities were something I should've been taking into account. I'd simply been following Nexxa's exact words for how she'd done it. Obviously that wouldn't work for me. Pretty sure she’d even mentioned as much and I’d just… forgot.

As I read through the book, I pulled out one of my journals and started sketching.

Then I stopped, looking down at my sketches. Then around at my shop.

I stood up and moved over to the hoist, pressing the button to get it to raise. It moved slowly, the familiar clank, clank, clank of the safety stops filling the shop alongside the electric hum as I brought it up to eye level.

Once it had stopped, I tried to…

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freёnovelkiss.com.

It wasn’t coming to me. I knew that I should be able to use this place to help build my astral body. That I had a deeper connection to my Memory Palace than was normal. Possibly because of my Worlds affinity.

That didn’t mean everything worked exactly as I wanted.

So I sat there, staring at the lift, tapping my leg until eventually my gaze shifted towards the garage door. Maybe I’d been looking in the wrong place. Flipping up the safety stops, I lowered the hoist then moved over to the door. I hesitated for a second before hitting the open button.

The door rattled, and for a second I thought it might not open.

But then the rattling smoothed out, exactly like it'd always done at my old shop, and the door slid up along its track. Outside was a yard both familiar and very much not. Inside the fence, it was the same country yard I'd had before. Even had the oil bin and garbage can off to the right. Yet if I lifted my gaze beyond that chain link fence…

Some fifty feet from the garage door, past the yard and heavy steel gate propped up by a single caster wheel, spread dunes of sand that continued… forever.

And I didn’t mean as far as my eye could see. Looking out over those sands, I just knew there was no limit to them. But it was an empty sorty of infinity. One without anything to discover.

I moved my attention inward, to the yard. On the left were two vehicle. The first of which I'd expected. My one and only full custom personal build. A dune buggy for cruising over the sandy hills near my hometown. Dunes that were normally much further away.

Next to it sat Fang.

It was surprising how natural they looked, resting next to each other. One, a beast of metal, grease and sweat.

The other, borne of magic, bone and steam.

Walking over, I ran my hand over Fang for a second, giving it a solid pat.

Then I moved over to the dune buggy. I wrapped my hand around the frame, pulling myself into the seat. Fumbling under the steel plate dash, I found the wires I kept hidden there. Pulling them forward so I could see them, I held them together then hit the ignition. The buggy fired up with a throaty roar.

I turned it away from the shop, wondering just how far the dunes would let me go. As I left the shop behind, the dunes opened up to the sides. The fence fell away behind me, but no matter how I soared over the dunes, the gate was never completely out of sight.

So, I stopped worrying about getting lost. For a few minutes, I just reveled in the feeling of being behind the wheel, in a place where I couldn’t hurt myself, or anyone else.

Even as the suspension crunched from going over yet another dune far too fast, I was grinning. Satisfied, I turned around to start my journey back only to find myself immediately outside the gate.

"Well, that's not weird at all," I mumbled as I drove the dune buggy into yard. But I didn’t stop there, taking it all the way into the shop.

Once it was in, I put it up on the hoist, inspecting the underside. Everything was exactly as it should be. Dual exhaust, skid plate hiding away anything that might take offense at landing on a hidden boulder, long travel suspension to help shake off the rough driving.

There was one thing that was wrong though. I'd intended to add decals to the bottom, to stamp my mark on the buggy. I'd never gotten around to it.

But my mark was there. The same one I'd used for my magecrest, the howling wolf.

Which meant…

I held up my hand, running a finger along a messy weld. One I'd told myself I'd clean up later but hadn't gotten around to. I looked at the other side, then pictured the weld mirroring the prettier one. It took a moment, then a shower of sparks erupted and I was left with two nearly invisible welds.

"Ha! This is soooo much better," I said while smirking up at the underside of the car. Then a thought struck me.

I immediately ran outside, and thought about my last project. It hadn't been completed, but I'd been close.

It took several minutes. The area next to Fang hummed with the sounds of ratchets turning, hammers pounding and the crisp crackle of welding as I conjured the old Corvette into being. Even the startled grunts from thwacking myself unexpectedly.

Every sound I’d made since I’d first started the project.

I smiled faintly as it appeared. It still needed to be painted, rough patches of gray all over, with only a hint of the black it'd once carried. I also hadn't installed the windows or half the electrical systems.

But it ran.

I traced my hand over the car and took a deep breath. It was more than I'd expected I could bring into my Memory Palace. Part of me had hoped I'd fail. That I could only use this place to work on completed projects. Already, I was thinking of what I could do here. How I might use it for my spellcraft or to harness Inertia's Forge Theory.

Yet I was also thinking about the corvette.

And where I'd gotten it from.

The dune buggy had been a passion project of my teen years. One of the few escapes I'd had from the old man.

I hadn't gotten the 'vette until after he'd died. Hadn't even known we'd still owned it. I'd recognized it immediately of course, from the one picture we'd had of her. The old man hadn't known about that picture. If he had, he'd have beaten me to within an inch of my life.

The car had belonged to my mom once. And it was the only connection I'd ever had to her.

And I had it back, if only in memory.