Chapter 15: On The Crafter's Trail
The rhythmic clink of stone against stone filled the morning air as Mike set the final block in the eastern wall of his new shelter. The sun cast long shadows across the ruins of Crafter's Haven, painting the scorched stones in rich amber hues. Ten days of relentless work had transformed the core of his compound from complete devastation into something marginally livable—a basic structure rising from ash and rubble.
"Not bad," Mike muttered, stepping back to assess his work. The woodworking ring pulsed warmly on his finger in what he'd come to interpret as agreement.
The enhanced strength and stamina that came with his four-level advancement had accelerated the rebuilding process, though the task remained daunting. His shelter was still crude—gaps in the walls patched with salvaged materials, the roof incomplete and likely to leak in heavy rain. The defensive perimeter extended only around his immediate living area, nothing like the elaborate system he'd built before.
Mike picked up the ancient hammer, feeling its now-familiar weight as he turned toward his next task. The western perimeter still needed reinforcement before—
A sound stopped him mid-thought. Distant but unmistakable, echoing across the valley and rebounding from the stone ruins. A roar—deep, primal, and terrifyingly familiar.
The Void Ripper.
Mike froze, head cocked as he listened intently. The roar came again, further away this time, emanating from the forested hills to the north. The same chilling, metal-tearing sound he'd heard on his first day in this world, when the creature had slaughtered the elf and dwarf before his eyes.
"No," Mike whispered, his mouth suddenly dry. "Not that thing again."
He scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of the monster. Nothing was visible yet, but the sound suggested it was moving—hunting—somewhere in the distant forest. The sound alone was enough to bring back the visceral terror of that first encounter, the helplessness he'd felt watching the creature's casual slaughter.
Even with his enhanced abilities, Mike harbored no illusions about facing the Void Ripper directly. He'd seen what it could do to an armed elf and dwarf in seconds. His rudimentary fortifications, barely functional against normal threats, would offer no protection against such overwhelming power.
Another roar, closer this time. Mike didn't hesitate. Grabbing his pack with essential supplies and the ancient hammer, he sprinted for the stone hatch leading to the underground chambers. The goblin shortblade went into his belt, a makeshift spear strapped across his back. Whatever else happened, he wouldn't face that monster unprepared—or preferably, not at all.
The hatch closed with a solid thunk behind him as Mike descended the stairs two at a time. The underground complex offered safety that his surface fortifications couldn't—solid stone walls, narrow passages too small for the Void Ripper's massive form, and multiple potential escape routes he'd carefully mapped during his previous explorations.
In the main storage chamber, Mike paused to light several oil lamps he'd placed during his recovery. The flickering light revealed shelves of salvaged materials, stockpiled food, and the various tools he'd discovered or crafted. He'd been using this space primarily for storage and sleep, but now it might become his home for days if the creature above decided to linger.
"Need to stay quiet," Mike reminded himself, moving with deliberate care as he navigated deeper into the complex.
The creature's hearing had seemed acute during their first encounter. Though many feet of stone separated them, Mike wasn't willing to risk making sounds that might attract its attention. If the Void Ripper realized there were tunnels beneath the ruins...
Another roar echoed faintly through the stone—still distant, but a chilling reminder of the threat above. Mike continued deeper into the complex, toward the circular chamber with the seven pedestals. He'd barely explored this area since discovering it, his focus having been on surface fortifications and immediate survival.
But now, with the Void Ripper hunting above, the time for deeper investigation had come. If answers existed anywhere, they'd be in these ancient rooms—in the artifacts and knowledge left behind by whoever had built this place. Perhaps there was something that could help him against the monster, some weapon or defense the original Crafters had used.
As he approached the circular chamber, Mike noticed something he'd overlooked before—faint symbols etched into the archway overhead, barely visible in the dim lamplight. He raised the lamp higher, studying the markings. Unlike the incomprehensible script that still filled his notifications, these symbols seemed almost familiar. Not readable, exactly, but conveying an impression of meaning—concepts rather than specific words.
The meaning came to him not as translations but as intuitive impressions, as if his level advancement had begun to bridge the gap between his mind and this world's communication system. The ring on his finger grew warmer as he studied the symbols, perhaps responding to their proximity or significance.
Passing beneath the arch, Mike entered the circular chamber with renewed purpose. The six remaining pedestals stood as he'd left them, each supporting a chest similar to the one he'd opened but with subtle variations in design and decoration. Above each pedestal, wall carvings depicted different crafts or disciplines—metalworking, alchemy, weaving, glassblowing, stonecutting, and one Mike couldn't immediately identify.
The seventh pedestal—the one whose chest had contained his woodworking ring—stood empty except for a shallow depression in its surface that matched the base of the chest.
Returning to the empty woodworking pedestal, he studied it more carefully. The depression on its surface was precisely carved to fit the base of the chest—almost like a socket or connecting point. On a hunch, Mike pressed his ring-bearing finger into the center of the depression.
The response was immediate and dramatic. The entire pedestal illuminated from within, glowing with the same subtle blue light he'd seen when opening the chest. The light spread outward along channels in the floor that Mike hadn't noticed before—straight lines connecting each pedestal to a central point in the room, forming a seven-pointed star pattern.
As the light reached the central junction, new symbols appeared, hovering in the air like his typical notifications but larger and more elaborate. While most remained incomprehensible, a few images stood out with startling clarity: a broken chain, a stylized eye crossed out, and what appeared to be a trap or cage.
"System access?" Mike guessed, stepping toward the glowing central point.
As he approached, the floating symbols shifted, reorganizing into what appeared to be a list or menu. Each entry was accompanied by an icon resembling one of the crafting disciplines depicted above the pedestals. The woodworking icon glowed brighter than the others, matching the blue light of his ring.
Mike reached toward the hovering woodworking icon, and as his finger touched it, the symbol expanded into a complex three-dimensional diagram—a schematic of some kind, rotating slowly in the air before him. It depicted what appeared to be a structure, but not a building or shelter. Instead, it resembled an elaborate trap—a mechanism of interlocking components designed to ensnare and destroy something large.
The associated text remained largely incomprehensible, but scattered images conveyed the trap's purpose with chilling clarity: a stylized silhouette that unmistakably resembled the Void Ripper, shown caught within the mechanism's jaws. Another image depicted the creature pierced by components of the trap. A final image showed the trapped creature apparently dissolving or disintegrating.
"A Void Ripper trap," Mike breathed, excitement and hope surging through him. "They knew how to kill these things."
He studied the floating schematic, the ring on his finger growing warmer as information seemed to flow directly into his mind. This wasn't just any trap—it was specifically designed to counter the Void Ripper's unique abilities, with layered mechanisms that would prevent it from phasing through materials or using its multiple limbs to escape.
But the materials list that accompanied the blueprint gave him pause. While he could understand the general categories through symbolic representation, the specific components were clearly specialized and likely difficult to obtain. The blueprint highlighted three primary materials, each represented by a different icon:
First, a special type of wood, shown with a symbol that resembled a mill or processing facility. The wood itself was depicted with unusual patterning, unlike any timber Mike had encountered.
Second, crystalline components, represented by a symbol that suggested a mine or quarry. The crystals appeared to have specific geometric properties, their arrangement crucial to the trap's function.
Third, a dark stone material—likely obsidian or something similar—shown with a symbol of a mountain or volcano. This appeared to form the trap's cutting edges and load-bearing structure.
"Great," Mike muttered, frustration momentarily overshadowing his excitement. "A perfect trap that needs materials I don't have and can't identify."
Frustrated but not deterred, Mike tried touching different parts of the interface. Most responses were similarly obscure, bringing up symbols and diagrams he couldn't fully comprehend. Then his finger brushed against a small, pulsing symbol that resembled a map or location marker.
The hovering display changed completely, showing what appeared to be a topographical representation of the surrounding region. Crafter's Haven was clearly marked with a glowing blue point at the center. Other points of light appeared at various distances—some nearby, others far across the displayed terrain.
"A map," Mike breathed, excitement building. "An actual map of this place."
Each location was marked with a different symbol, most unrecognizable except for their general shapes. But what caught his immediate attention were three locations that pulsed with the same symbols as the trap materials.
To the east, perhaps two days' journey based on the scale he could roughly interpret, a symbol resembling a mill or lumber facility glowed with a warm amber light. This had to be the source of the special wood the blueprint required.
To the northwest, what appeared to be a mine entrance was marked with a cool blue glow, presumably the source of the crystals needed.
And far to the south, beyond what looked like mountain terrain, a red marker indicated what might be a volcanic region or obsidian deposit.
Beyond these three crucial locations, other points of interest were scattered across the map—a green tower-like marker to the northeast, a purple spiral symbol far to the west, yellow markers dotting what appeared to be a river system to the southwest. Each likely represented other Crafter facilities or resource points, but without being able to read the accompanying text, their exact nature remained mysterious.
As Mike studied the display, a faint roar from above reminded him of the immediate threat. The Void Ripper was still out there, hunting. Even if it moved on today, it would eventually return—creatures that powerful typically maintained large territories they patrolled regularly.
The decision crystallized in Mike's mind. He needed to build this trap. And to build it, he needed those materials. Staying at Crafter's Haven and hoping the monster wouldn't find him was no longer an option—not when there was a concrete solution within reach.
"I need to get these materials," Mike said aloud, his voice echoing slightly in the chamber. "I need to build this thing."
The interface seemed to respond to his decision, several of the material markers pulsing more brightly for a moment. The nearest was the wood source to the east—the logical first destination. From there, he could reassess and plan the next stage of his journey.
Mike spent the next hours studying the map, committing as much of it to memory as possible. Using scraps of parchment-like material he'd found in the storage areas, he sketched his own version, marking Crafter's Haven and the three material locations, along with key geographical features he could use for navigation. The other, more distant markers he noted as well, but as secondary objectives—the trap materials had to come first.
As night fell above, signaled by the dimming of the faint light that filtered through ventilation shafts, Mike turned his attention to preparation. The journey would be dangerous—crossing unfamiliar territory, potentially encountering hostile creatures or inhabitants, all while racing against the possibility of the Void Ripper finding Crafter's Haven in his absence.
He would need supplies, weapons, tools, and appropriate clothing for the journey. While searching the underground storerooms, Mike made an unexpected discovery—a small chamber he'd overlooked during his earlier explorations, its entrance partially concealed behind a fallen support beam. Inside, illuminated by his lamp, was a collection of cloth items carefully preserved in sealed containers.
"Clothes," Mike realized, pulling out what appeared to be garments sized for someone approximately his height, though leaner in build.
The materials were unfamiliar—not quite wool or cotton or linen, but something with elements of all three. The construction was sophisticated, with reinforced seams and an attention to detail that spoke of skilled craftsmanship. Most were in muted earth tones—browns, greens, and grays that would blend well with the natural environment.
Mike selected several pieces that seemed most practical—a pair of sturdy trousers with multiple pockets, a long-sleeved shirt with reinforced elbows and shoulders, a sleeveless vest with more pockets, and a hooded cloak that appeared to be water-resistant. All were in better condition than his current tattered clothing, which had barely survived the battles and labor of the past weeks.
"Finally, something that fits," Mike said, changing into the new clothes. They were a bit tight in places but infinitely better than his burned and torn original garments.
Next came provisions. The tuna fruits had become a staple of his diet, their strange fishy sweetness now almost comforting in its familiarity. Mike gathered as many as seemed reasonable, along with strips of dried meat from his hunting efforts and the remaining preserved foods he'd found in the underground storage.
Water wouldn't be a problem if he followed streams, but he filled several containers anyway, including the leather waterskin he'd taken from the goblins weeks ago. Better to have too much than too little, especially when traveling through unknown territory.
Weapons were a more difficult choice. The ancient hammer was non-negotiable—it had proven its worth repeatedly and seemed connected to this world's systems in ways Mike was still discovering. The goblin shortblade went into his belt, a sturdy spear strapped across his back. He also selected a handful of the smaller sap bombs he'd created, carefully wrapping them in protective cloth and placing them in separate pouches to prevent accidental detonation.
Throughout the night, Mike continued to prepare, alternating between packing and studying his sketched map. Occasionally, he'd return to the interface in the circular chamber, trying to glean more information about the trap design or the material locations. The system seemed to respond to his inquiries, though most of its answers remained tantalizingly opaque due to the language barrier.
One thing became increasingly clear—the trap was not merely a physical construct but incorporated elements of the same system that powered his notifications and the interface itself. The glowing blue-green lines that appeared in the schematic were channels or circuits of some kind, directing power through the structure in ways that specifically targeted the Void Ripper's vulnerabilities.
As dawn approached, signaled by a gradual lightening in the air shafts above, Mike made his final preparations. He'd heard no roars from the Void Ripper for several hours—perhaps it had moved on for now, continuing its patrol of its vast territory. This might provide a window to leave safely, to begin his journey toward the materials he needed.
Mike carefully packed everything into a sturdy bag he'd constructed from materials found in storage, designed for even weight distribution and easy access to essentials. The hand-drawn map went into a separate waterproof pouch, along with the few tools he might need for emergency repairs or construction along the way.
Before ascending to the surface, Mike returned to the circular chamber one last time. The interface still glowed softly, responding to his presence. He placed his ring finger on the woodworking pedestal again, watching as the system activated.
"I'll be back," he promised the ancient facility, feeling somewhat foolish for talking to a machine or magical system he barely understood. "With what I need to build this trap."
As he turned to leave, a new notification appeared—brief, but containing one of the few symbols he could recognize: orange glyphs that might have represented [SUCCESS].
Whether encouragement, acknowledgment, or mere coincidence, Mike took it as a positive sign. The Crafters who had built this place had fought the Void Ripper before. They had created weapons against it. Now he would follow in their footsteps.
Moving quietly, Mike ascended the stairs to the surface, listening carefully before opening the hatch. Morning birdsong greeted him—a good sign, as wildlife typically fell silent in the presence of apex predators. The sun had just crested the eastern hills, painting the ruins in golden light.
No sign of the Void Ripper remained, though Mike scanned the surroundings carefully before fully emerging. His newly rebuilt shelter stood incomplete, a testament to his building skills but a painful reminder of how much work had been interrupted. A shame to leave it so soon after beginning reconstruction, but it would serve as a fallback position if his journey proved fruitless.
Under the light of the rising sun, Mike studied his hand-drawn map one more time. The journey to the wood processing facility would take him east, across terrain he hadn't yet explored. Beyond that lay the crystal mine to the northwest and the obsidian deposits to the far south. A long journey, fraught with unknown dangers, but with a clear purpose—gather the materials, return to Crafter's Haven, build the trap, and end the Void Ripper threat once and for all.
Only then could he turn his attention to the greater mystery—finding a way home to Sarah and Jeremy.
"One step at a time," he reminded himself, a phrase that had served him well on countless construction projects. "First the wood, then the rest."
With a final glance at the fortress he'd begun to rebuild from ruins, Mike turned east and began walking, ancient hammer at his belt, woodworking ring on his finger, and rough map in hand. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, he felt something beyond mere determination to survive. He felt purpose—a direction, a goal beyond the next meal or shelter.
The game had changed. Mike was no longer just surviving—he was hunting the hunter.