Past the Pearl Bloom River, which fed into the Greater Lotus Lake where an ecosystem of hardened kappa warriors were found, laid one of the many mountain ranges that jutted out across the lands of Horogi: the Zan-Chi Spine. A long, spindly ridgeline that stretched for hundreds of kilometers from west to east, the mountain range was frustratingly vertical but surprisingly low, with the lowest points only 700 or so meters above the ground. Hard granite surfaces and crumbling gravel slopes made it difficult traversal for caravans, but the sheer lack of any vegetation meant that one only had to worry about phantasmal monstrosities here. With the right talismans in stock and an appetite for altitude, the Zan-Chi Spine was still preferrable to cross compared to making a detour around the range instead, and for Immortals? With their superhuman prowess and litany of techniques?

It was even fun…though the definition of fun depending, once more, on one’s appetite for altitude.

Arion was a beast of a machine, an all-terrain monstrosity that defied all interactions with the physical world. So long as the incline wasn’t completely vertical, so long as there was [i]something[/i] for its monstrous tires to bite into, the black beast could climb it, and could do so at its maximum speed of almost 300 kilometers per hour. As Weishaupt wormed itself into Leif’s spine and a more intimate connection was formed between the shaman and the necromancer, black flames spewed out from Arion and sent both rider and passenger up at such speeds that Amulak could only enjoy the RTS view for two seconds before the connection was cut out. While Leif left them in the dust and Ames enjoyed the sensation of having all his organs pressed against his back, the remaining party members resolved themselves to climbing the old-fashioned way.

…

It took all of ten seconds of nauseating ascent before Arion shot up over the ridgeline as if the mountain itself was just a ramp. No vegetation and no physical monsters meant that even the phantasms that surged towards Leif and Ames were simply run through, the two Immortals cresting the top of the mountain almost before either of them knew what was going on. Then, they were airborne, a whole one thousand meters up in the air. Horogi stretched out before them, the black smoke of archaic train systems, the flashing light of some adventurer’s magic, the distant black masses of the Tato-Ie army. It was beautiful, it was terrible, but most importantly…they were falling. Arion’s wheels turned, its muzzles jetting out flames, but without ground to bite, it was just a hunk of metal carried by its own momentum, helpless to do anything when the very planet pulled against it.

The first impact slammed the front wheel against the slope, shooting a nightmarish blow right into the groins of both riders. Arion and passengers both somersaulted, before the second impact drove them sideways down a gravel slope, hundreds of small rocks churning up onto them. A lone tree, withered and ancient, the only one of its kind on the merciless mountain, was snapped in half when they struck it, and the Nuclei and Immortals were airborne once more, this time with the splintered remains of a once-noble tree stuck in their flesh and armor. With a final definitive [i]thump[/i], Arion landed upright at the base of the mountain, its saddle sending a spine-tingling shock up Leif and Ames’s tailbones. The two of them were a mess, undoubtedly, bludgeoned and bloodied by their downhill adventures, but Arion itself was, as expected of a Nuclei, unharmed.

And without heed for any emotional distress on the part of either of its riders, the black beast roared and sped off again.
Some time later, the rest of the party would descend the Zan-Chi Spine without incident.

…

It took a while for Leif to clear the smell of blood out of his nose, but once he did, he began his search. Taking a circular route through the verdant plains past the Zan-Chi Spine, the Wolfpack Shaman periodically shifted his face into that of a wolf’s. Silk trails of deepening crimson appeared before his eyes, drawing him down paths unseen by others. Less than a minute had elapsed since he surmounted the mountain, and even though both himself and Ames had taken no small amount of damage on the decline, the two of them were healing up swimmingly. In a couple more minutes, they would be at full HP again, with the only signs of their injuries marked by superficial scratches.

But that, in and of itself, presented a problem, when the trail that Lief followed ended up bringing him not towards a party of injured players, but rather to a wounded monster. The natural regenerative capabilities of Immortals meant that any injury, no matter how grievous, would generally be recovered within the span of less than an hour. And considering the open plains that Leif was now riding through, the sheer noise that his mechanical steed generated, there was no way that he could stealthily approach anyone.

His nose proved to be suboptimal for the task at hand, while his Nuclei provided incredible speed but no stealth. There had to be additional strategies put into place then, if they were to spot roving bands of supplier-adventurers through this spindly mountain range and the adjacent plains.