CHAPTER 123: CH 123: THE VORTEX OF WIND- PART 1

The moment Fenrir stepped onto the fifth floor, the world tried to reject him.

A violent gale slammed into his body like a hammer, nearly throwing him off his feet.

Thunder cracked across the sky above, and blinding streaks of lightning cut the clouds in half. Rain poured in sideways, driven by winds strong enough to shear trees from the ground.

Fenrir grunted as he dug his boots into the soaked dirt, but even that wasn’t enough. He stabbed his sword into the ground and leaned against it, anchoring himself.

"What the hell is this place?"

He muttered, squinting against the storm.

The winds howled in reply.

Knowing that brute force wouldn’t be enough this time, he reached into his inner realm and summoned his companion.

"Nedrax."

A flash of magic burst beside him, and with a proud puff of smoke, the small dragon appeared, floating with his wings spread wide.

"Ah! You finally called upon your great and mighty partner! I was wondering how long you could hold out—WOAH!"

Before Nedrax could finish his dramatic entrance, the winds caught him midair and tossed him like a leaf.

"NEDRAX!"

Fenrir lunged and grabbed the dragon by its tail just in time. With one hand gripping his sword and the other clamped around Nedrax, he growled.

"Stop showing off and ground yourself!"

With a grunt of frustration, the dragon shifted—its form growing, stretching, bulking up.

Within seconds, Nedrax went from small companion to massive beast, his weight pushing against the storm. His claws dug into the rock and dirt, his wings folded tightly against his body.

"Hah. This place really wants to kill us."

The dragon exhaled.

Fenrir leaned against Nedrax’s massive front leg, panting slightly.

"Yeah, no kidding."

The wind didn’t let up, but with Nedrax serving as a wall, Fenrir could finally catch his breath.

The dragon turned his large, reptilian head toward the side and scanned the rocky terrain with narrowed eyes.

"I see a cave that way. It’s not big, but it’ll keep the storm off our backs."

He said.

"Take us there."

Nedrax reached down, wrapped his claws around Fenrir like a protective cage, and leapt.

He barreled through the gusts, each wingbeat more like a staggered step than flight. Lightning flashed all around them, and rain pelted his scales like daggers.

Within minutes, they found shelter.

Nedrax ducked into a low cave tucked between jagged cliffs, and Fenrir finally felt the winds die away as they entered.

The cave was small and cold, but it was dry—and right now, that was enough.

As soon as he set Fenrir down, Nedrax growled, shaking off water like a giant dog.

"Ugh. This place sucks. What happened to this floor? Last time I came here, it was all wind gardens and sky islands."

Fenrir sat down on a flat rock and rubbed his forehead.

"This is the fifth floor, all right. But something’s changed."

Nedrax snorted.

"Changed? It’s a damn hurricane out there."

"I think I know why. You remember the ’Vortex of Wind’?"

Fenrir said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, sealed case, filled with ingredients glowing faintly with energy.

"Of course. One of your powers. Uncontrollable and unstable, if I recall."

Nedrax grunted.

"Well, it was sealed years ago... but I think someone tried to tap into it. Maybe they failed. Maybe it leaked. Either way, this floor is drowning in its effect. That wind? That’s not natural."

Nedrax narrowed his eyes.

"So, what? We clean up your mess again?"

"Not exactly. I have a plan."

Fenrir said with a faint smirk. "

He set the box down and opened it. Inside, there were shimmering pieces of crystal, metal fangs, and feather-like fibers—ingredients for a very specific kind of weapon.

"I can make two arrows. Special-grade. Designed to cut through compressed air and redirect wind currents. With the right trajectory, I can hit the source of the storm—the floor boss."

"Only two shots?"

Nedrax said, skeptical.

"Only enough materials for that. So I can’t miss."

Fenrir confirmed.

The dragon gave him a long, flat stare.

"You sure you can hit your target with all that wind outside?"

Fenrir just grinned, his eyes glowing faintly with magic.

"If the wind listens to anyone, it’ll be me."

Nedrax chuckled.

"Still arrogant. I like it."

With a nod, Fenrir began crafting. The storm outside raged on, but within the cave, something sharper, more precise, was building—something with enough force to silence the winds once and for all.

______

Fenrir stepped into his private dungeon, and the moment he crossed the threshold, he felt it—something had changed.

The forge, once a chaotic pit of flame and clanging metal, now radiated a cleaner, steadier heat.

The tools were lined with meticulous care, and the anvil had been replaced with one etched with runes that glowed faintly.

Even the very air shimmered with enhanced mana conductivity.

Standing proudly at the center of it all was Grizzle, the forge imp.

His soot-covered face was smug, his arms crossed over his tiny chest as he beamed up at Fenrir.

"Welcome back, master,"

He said with a deep bow.

"What do you think? I used the materials you brought last time to upgrade the forge. The flame runs purer now, and the mana channels through the stones more evenly. The success rate of forged weapons should increase significantly. That’s the result of my skills as a Marker."

Fenrir whistled, genuinely impressed.

"You’ve done good work, Grizzle. This place feels stronger just standing in it."

He walked over to the forge and ran his hand along the new metalwork.

"I’m almost tempted to ask if you’ve been taking private lessons."

Grizzle snorted and held his nose up proudly.

"I learn from the best. And I observe everything. Even your work, master."

"Then I suppose it’s only fair I reward you. I’ll forge a weapon for you too."

Fenrir said, cracking his knuckles.

The imp’s eyes lit up—but only for a second. Then he shook his head, waving his hands.

"Ah, no thank you. Fighting’s not for me. Let others swing their swords and get stabbed. I prefer mining. If you want to make something, make me an axe. A good one. I want to dig deep and bring you better ore."

Fenrir chuckled.

"So that’s where your heart lies, huh? Fine. I’ll see if there are enough ingredients left over. If I can, I’ll make you that axe."

Grizzle rubbed his hands together gleefully and scampered to prepare the forge for Fenrir’s use.

Without wasting time, Fenrir focused on the arrows.

The ingredients were rare and volatile, but with the improved forge and Grizzle’s meticulous setup, the process flowed smoothly.

Within an hour, two sleek, rune-carved arrows lay on the table, glowing faintly with the condensed energy of the storm itself.

Satisfied, Fenrir sealed them in a special case and then turned to the side, where a few bits of leftover material remained. Enough for a small project.

He smirked.

"Looks like you’ll get your axe, Grizzle."

As the imp cheered, Fenrir quickly forged a durable mining axe, embedding it with a minor mana efficiency rune for prolonged use.

Once finished, he handed it to Grizzle, who hugged it like a prized possession.

Before heading out, Fenrir opened his system interface and sent off a bundle of brewed potions to Rick and Fredric, including a note:

[Stay safe. Don’t drink more than two at a time.]

With that done, it was time to return to the storm.