Ash had approximately three seconds to register that Grakmul's rod was definitely not just decorative before the entire observation post became an impromptu lightning rod.

The first second involved the realization that the storm clouds had materialized with suspicious timing and purpose.

The second included the dawning understanding that their elevated position made them excellent targets.

The third featured the philosophical insight that when enough electricity decides to course through a body all at once, conventional pain scales become inadequate.

A coronal flame blossomed around both Ash and Kindle a heartbeat before the strike—white-hot plasma that sang like a tuning fork. The bolt never pierced their chests; it slid across the incandescent shell, spat from their heels, and blossomed into a ground-crawling spiderweb of sparks.

In the same instant, their flames roared brighter, venting the stolen joules in a mushroom of heat that left the observation post's remaining timbers glassy but their pulses steady.

Then came the bang.

Then came the concussive force that launched them from the disintegrating platform.

Then came the instantaneous education in what it felt like to fall with a burning watchtower.

And then they were lying in a heap at the bottom of the quarry pit, smoldering and startled, surrounded by the scattered remains of what had recently been Observation Post Four.

Kindle blinked at the sky, which had returned to its previous clear blue as if supernatural thunderstorms were perfectly normal weather phenomena. She coughed, tasting copper pennies and thunderstorms.

"Well," she said, her voice slightly hoarse and oddly muffled, "that just happened."

"Observation: we're not dead," Ash murmured, conducting a mental inventory of body parts that all seemed to be present and mostly functional. Her left boot heel had a suspicious hole blown clean through—courtesy of their electrical encounter.

Kindle exhaled a plume of smoke that might have been residual electrical discharge or just her fire expressing confusion. "Good observation."

Ash's hand found hers. They stayed like that for a moment, allowing their respective nervous systems to remember how to operate normally.

Then came the sound of voices—concerned ones, though they sounded oddly distant—and the rapid crunch of boots on stone.

"Hey!" Ember's voice carried from the pit's edge, though it took a moment to penetrate the ringing in their ears. "Are you two okay down there?"

"That depends," Kindle replied, pushing herself up on elbows that felt distinctly rubbery. "Do we look like well-done barbecue?"

"Um, no." Ember peered down from the lip of the pit, her expression cycling through relief, concern, and what might have been professional exasperation. "You look like medium-rare at worst."

Pyra skidded down the incline, skirting past where their former watchtower continued its enthusiastic combustion. "That was some show! Did you see the way the lightning just—CRACK—right through everything?"

Cinder followed at a more controlled pace, dusting her hands as she approached. "We felt that one from the foreman's office."

"Here." Ember pulled them both to their feet while Pyra and Cinder provided supporting shoulders. "Can you walk? What exactly happened up there?"

"Postulate: we made ourselves a target for retaliation," Ash said, brushing soot off her shirt with fingers that trembled only slightly. She was managing better than Kindle, who was currently leaning heavily against Cinder while glaring at her feet as if willing them back into stability.

"And you're absolutely sure you're okay?" Ember asked, her gaze lingering on Kindle with the sort of maternal concern that suggested she wasn't entirely convinced by their casual responses. "You're... smoking."

Kindle held out one arm for inspection, displaying her smoldering sleeve. The button on her cuff had completely vaporized. "This? Just another Wednesday for us."

They made their way back up the incline, pausing frequently to accommodate Kindle's unsteady legs. When they reached a flattened section of stone, Ember poked Kindle's arm experimentally and wrinkled her nose. "You sure? Because you feel... crispy."

"No, seriously, I'm fine." Kindle's words came out with the sort of uncertainty that suggested she wasn't entirely convinced herself. "A little overdone, maybe, but functional."

"Uh-huh." Ember's tone conveyed precisely zero confidence in this assessment.

Ash, still wincing with each step, provided additional commentary. "The fall caused most of the discomfort. Unexpected electrocution merely expedited our departure from the observation post."

The gathered crowd of foremen and quarry workers murmured among themselves with expressions that suggested less 'celebration of heroic arrival' and more 'what in the blazes just happened?' It wasn't the most auspicious beginning to their A-rank evaluation.

Blackstone broke through the group with heavy, determined strides. He studied them, then the smoldering wreckage that had recently been Observation Post Four, then them again. "You sure you're in condition to finish the job?"

"We're fine," Kindle insisted, punctuating this with a smile that would have been more convincing if she hadn't swayed slightly while delivering it. "Just... a little toasty."

"Uh-huh." Blackstone's expression suggested he was buying this about as much as Ember had, but he gestured for the other workers to clear some space. "Look, if you need to rest up before taking on Grakmul, we'd understand. Lightning strikes aren't exactly routine occupational hazards, even for adventurers."

"That's very considerate," Cinder said, her voice carefully modulated. "But we have everything under control." Behind her, Ash nodded vigorously while Kindle flashed a thumbs-up and a beaming grin that might have been just slightly too goofy to be entirely reassuring.

Blackstone studied them for a long moment, then shrugged with the resignation of someone who'd learned not to argue with adventurers. "Suit yourselves. Just... don't go getting yourselves killed down there."

"Our mission objectives do not include premature demise," Ember assured him.

The reassurance didn't quite land, judging by his increasingly dubious expression as his gaze moved slowly from Ember to Ash to Kindle and back again.

"Well... all right then," he conceded. "I'll leave you to it."

As Blackstone departed, the five convened in a quiet corner away from the crowd of onlookers. Cinder leaned in, lowering her voice. "All right, what did that troll actually do?"

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"It pointed a rod at us," Ash explained.

"And then electrocuted us," Kindle finished.

"And then you fell out of a tower?" Cinder asked.

"Technically, we fell with a tower," Ash corrected.

"But how are you both still alive?" Ember pressed. "That was a direct lightning strike. We've seen what happens when—"

"Instinctive plasma sheath," Ash interrupted, her analytical mind already processing the event. "The ionized air redirected the current around us rather than through us. We vented the thermal buildup simultaneously."

"Plus," Kindle added, touching her temple where a faint headache lingered, "I felt some of the energy flow through our connection."

"That's why we felt it?" Cinder asked.

"Distributed load," Ash confirmed. "Enough to prevent fatal damage, though clearly insufficient to prevent significant discomfort from the subsequent structural collapse."

Ember studied them both with a long, searching look that conveyed the same protective concern without words.

A moment of silence. Kindle bit her lip, glanced at Ash, then nodded. "We're good. Promise."

Ash offered a single, definitive nod. "We were momentarily distracted, but that won't happen again."

"Okay," Ember said slowly. "So now what? It has some kind of magical lightning rod, it knows we're here, and it's willing to fry us just for observing it."

"Probably looted the rod from one of the previous adventuring teams," Kindle suggested, rubbing her temple as if her brain wasn't quite finished rebooting.

"And figured out how to use it," Cinder added. "So much for 'problem-solving abilities comparable to particularly clever dogs.'"

"It's resourceful," Pyra said, flashing one of those radiant, borderline-reckless grins. "I respect that."

Ember rolled her eyes. "The most dangerous kind of troll, and you respect it because it's clever."

"I was kidding! Relax." Pyra threw her hands up in mock surrender. "Look, all we need to do is hit it with enough fireballs to incinerate it, right? Or drop a boulder on its head, or just get up close and stabby with it."

"That would require confronting it on its terms, in its prepared position," Cinder pointed out. "Which is what the other teams did. It didn't work out well for them."

"We're not like the other teams," Pyra said without a trace of arrogance—just absolute certainty.

"Pyra's right," Ember agreed. "But not in a reckless charge-into-its-cave kind of way."

Pyra pouted. "Where's the fun in that?"

"While direct confrontation might indeed be appealing," Ash interjected, "this situation demands a more nuanced approach than straightforward offense."

Pyra opened her mouth, then closed it again. "So... no barreling in there with fireballs blazing and punching it in the face?"

"It remains a viable if unrefined tactic," Ash conceded, "but its drawbacks outweigh its advantages. Grakmul is clearly a strategic adversary. We cannot outsmart what we do not understand."

Pyra exhaled dramatically, throwing her hands up as if appealing to the universe for relief from her overly cautious sister-selves. "Fine, but if we're going to sit around pondering things, I'm taking a nap. Wake me up when it's go time."

She turned away and found a sunny patch of grass where she promptly sprawled face-down.

Ash shook her head. "Regardless, my previous reconnaissance approach remains valid, albeit requiring acceleration given the circumstances. I shall complete our intelligence gathering and formulate a comprehensive plan."

Ember gestured toward the troll's lair. "We'll be ready when you are. Just give us the word."

"I shall." Ash offered a quick, crooked smile. "And Ember?"

"Yeah?"

"Do try to ensure Pyra refrains from any premature incinerations. There are still variables requiring careful observation before we act."

Ember nodded once. "I'll keep her in check."

"Most appreciated."

Ash spent the next two hours conducting what could charitably be called reconnaissance and more accurately be described as obsessive data collection. She mapped every visible tunnel entrance, catalogued the scattered equipment, analyzed sight lines, and documented Grakmul's behavioral patterns with the sort of meticulousness of someone who'd decided that being electrocuted once was quite enough.

The quarry had been transformed into something resembling a three-dimensional chess board designed by someone with a vindictive streak and excellent tactical awareness. Grakmul hadn't simply taken up residence—it had systematically converted the entire excavation into a fortress specifically designed to counter adventuring tactics.

"Fascinating," Ash murmured, adding another notation to her growing collection of observations. "Absolutely fascinating."

From their position on the eastern slope, Ember watched Ash work while keeping one eye on Pyra, who was still sprawled in her sunny patch of grass and occasionally mumbling what sounded like tactical suggestions in her sleep. "Find anything useful?"

"Everything useful," Ash replied, not looking up from her notes. "Grakmul isn't just intelligent—it's conducting a masterclass in defensive architecture."

She pointed to a series of carefully positioned mirrors that reflected sunlight in complex patterns across the quarry floor. "Those create blind spots that force attackers into predictable approach routes. The damaged equipment isn't randomly scattered—it's positioned to provide cover for the troll while channeling enemies into killzones."

Kindle, who had mostly recovered from their impromptu flight experience, had volunteered to serve as spotter, partly out of professional duty and partly because someone needed to make sure Ash remembered to eat, drink water, and occasionally blink.

"It's like the whole place is one big trap," she said, peering through a battered spyglass.

"Multiple interlocking traps," Ash corrected. "Each one designed to exploit different tactical approaches. And each of them adjusted incrementally between attacks based on lessons learned."

Cinder, leaning against a boulder with arms crossed thoughtfully, hmmed. "You almost sound like you admire this troll."

"Professional respect, nothing more," Ash assured her. "Respect for its engineering prowess, not for its behavior."

The morning mist had burned off, leaving the sky above the quarry a clear blue canvas. Below, the stone-cutting equipment had been cannibalized into makeshift defenses, repurposed to cover tunnels and provide angles for crossfire. Grakmul itself was a shadowy presence, emerging briefly from a tunnel to make some adjustment, then disappearing again.

"Is there a flaw?" Ember asked. "Everything has a weakness."

"Oh, certainly," Ash affirmed. "Two significant vulnerabilities leap to mind after studying its behavioral patterns. First, it seems to operate with a high degree of conservatism—it's strategic, not proactive."

"Didn't it just zap us out of an observation post?" Kindle pointed out.

"Well, yes," Ash granted. "But its behavior was likely a well-rehearsed response to a predictable threat. We presented ourselves as an observational team—which matches a previously identified pattern—and Grakmul reacted with what must be a practiced countermeasure."

"How is that a weakness?" Kindle asked. "It saw a threat, it took us out. Seems pretty good at handling problems."

"But it also seems unwilling to proactively strike without clearly understanding the threat," Ash continued, scratching another quick notation in her growing pile of notes. "Grakmul responds decisively when presented with known scenarios, but it displays a distinct preference for its home territory."

"It's reluctant to leave the quarry," Cinder surmised.

"Precisely," Ash said, setting down her pen. "Given the apparent breadth of its intellect, it likely recognizes the danger of venturing into unfamiliar terrain. Its strategic capabilities are undoubtedly honed specifically for this venue."

"So we either lure it out," Ember said thoughtfully, "or we learn to play its game better than it does. What's its second weakness?"

"That one's far simpler, but also far easier to remediate once discovered."

"And that is...?"

"It exhibits what I believe to be a universal trait among its kind—attention span."

Kindle huffed a small laugh. "So it gets bored easily?"

"That's one way to conceptualize it, yes," Ash confirmed. "It demonstrates impressive focus when engaged in meaningful tasks, but during routine periods, it fails to maintain consistent vigilance."

"And all we need to do is identify the moments when its guard is down and exploit them," Cinder finished.

Ash spread her notes across the ground and sighed. "I believe we have adequately mapped its behavioral patterns. What comes next is the actual application of this knowledge."

She glanced around, taking in the expectant faces—and the sleeping one. "I propose we discuss strategy over sustenance. Planning on an empty stomach is far from optimal."

"You had me at 'food,'" Kindle said, leaning over Ash's notes.

"Then let us reconvene for sandwiches and scheming."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.