Chapter 1538 – Helm’s Deep Upon the Eldest’s Head

“I can’t make a helmet strong enough to resist a blast of those sorts of proportions. Impossible.” Smithant declared.

Well, no arguing with that, I suppose.

“Thanks for taking the time to meet with me, I suppose,” I say, turning away.

“There’s no way,” she continued. “Not even with the most advanced forging techniques and alloys we currently possess. With crushed living stone mixed into the furnace… or perhaps a folded lattice of… no, the temperature would cause it to crack. Which is why I told you it was impossible!”

“A-alright,” I say, confused. “You don’t need to tell me twice. If you can’t do it, you can’t do it.”

“And it has to be transparent,” she stressed. “The whole idea is to protect your eyes and stop them from imploding. If you can’t see through it, there’s no point. Rather than a clear material, we would be better creating a shield over your eyes using enchanting, but the materials required… and the work would be meticulous… not durable at all… and how would it even work? The core required to power it… for a shield of sufficient strength…. No, impossible.”

I’m not sure if she’s having an episode or what. I think I’ll just leave.

“Get back here!” she roars, and I freeze on the spot.

“Make up your mind, dammit!” I declare, my antenna twitching, sensing a moment of thwacking had arrived.

“I’m thinking! Look, sit down over there and I’ll take some measurements while I ponder.”

“Are you going to keep telling me my request is impossible the whole time?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“Don’t.”

“… I’ll try my best.”

So I drop into an adjustable ant chair that doesn’t quite extend enough for me to sit comfortably, damn my hugeness, and wait while the smith takes measurements, mutters to herself and is a general pest.

Her workshop in the fortress isn’t as elaborate as some that I’ve seen her in, most of the industry in the Colony is happening further up in the Dungeon, after all, but it’s still fancy. Smithant’s workshop isn’t about mass production, or even fine craftsmanship. She specialises in discovery and prototyping, and so her space is specially rigged to produce… just about anything an ant could possibly think of. Much like my current request, she’s the one we turn to when we need solutions to new problems.

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Still, the wealth on display here is something I’m just starting to get used to. Our trade with outsiders in the fourth stratum has borne fruit, and the proof is right here in the open. All sorts of crystals and metals that I’m fairly confident the Colony hasn’t unearthed are neatly stacked here and there about the chamber. No doubt Smithant has been working day and night, tinkering and testing to see what she can do with them.

“It might be possible,” she declares, jarring me out of my thoughts.

“What? Ah. It is? I’m pretty sure you said just the opposite about a hundred times.”