Chapter 697: The Upper Release

Hajin hauled himself over the last ledge above the shut boards, still spitting river grit from the first crew.

"Oh, come on, there’s more of you?" he whined, wiping spray off his face with a soaked sleeve.

Above the bypass sat a squat stone housing, and a release lever jutted from its wall like a broken arm. One fat pin held the lever upright, and five armed men crowded around it with a bow saw and mallets.

The saw teeth were already halfway through the pin, shrieking with every stroke while sparks spat into the spray.

’If that pin goes, the lever drops, and the whole upper gate opens onto Loccy’s road.’

He squinted at the lever and the cracked post beside it, trying to guess which way it would fall.

A man with a hooked poleaxe stepped between him and the saw, rolling his shoulders like he owned the river.

"Look at him, lads, staring at the pretty lever," the crew captain sneered, "he doesn’t even know which end to grab."

"I know which end I’m grabbing, and it’s yours."

The captain spat into the river and hefted his poleaxe, "Big words from a boy who stopped walking the second he saw us."

’He thinks I froze up, which is adorable, and it’s also about to hurt him.’

"Stopped walking?" Hajin barked, scandalized, "I was thinking, you giant turnip, people do that sometimes—"

The poleaxe came down at his skull before he could finish, and the captain put his whole back into it.

[ IronVanguard: He got cut off mid-insult by an actual axe, I love this show. ]

[ Seoul_Tactician: That guy thinks the pause was fear, oh no, oh no. ]

Hajin let the swing come, stepping half a pace sideways so the hooked head kept reaching past his shoulder.

"Too slow, way too slow!"

His left blade met the haft just below the head, right where a riveted collar pinned it to the wood. His right blade followed the same line a heartbeat later, and the poleaxe head spun off into the river spray.

The captain stumbled forward holding a bare pole, gaping at the sudden lightness in both of his hands.

"What the hell—"

"That’s called a stick now," he cackled, slamming a knee into the man’s gut, "and sticks lose."

He drove the captain backward across the ledge, away from two ragged debt workers chained to the housing’s water bucket. Every step he took pushed the fight further from those raw wrists, until the captain’s heels hit the far wall.

The captain swung the bare pole like a club, and Hajin ducked under it with a delighted whoop.

"You’re a terrible lumberjack, did you know that?" he crowed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

One of the saw crew lunged in from the left with a mallet, hoping to catch him mid-bounce.

Hajin kicked the mallet out of the man’s hands without even looking, "Wait your turn, there’s a line!"

He hooked the captain’s pole with his left blade, yanked it wide, and drove his right elbow into his jaw. The big man folded sideways onto the stones and stayed there, blowing bubbles into a muddy puddle beside his ear.

The other four froze around the saw, staring at their fallen captain, then at Hajin, then at each other.

"Next," he hollered, flicking water off both blades, "who else wants to lose a stick?"

"Spread out, take him from the sides—"

"With what, he cut the captain’s axe in half!"

"Then finish the pin, finish it now!"

One desperate saboteur threw himself back at the bow saw and ripped it through the last stubborn bite of iron. The pin cracked like a bone, the lever shuddered free, and it began swinging down toward the open gate below.

’No, no, my Zone doesn’t argue with water, so this one needs my actual hands.’

Hajin slammed his right blade home and let the Chain drop out of his sleeve into that same right hand. He whipped it across the gap, and the links wrapped twice around the falling lever just below its worn grip.

"Got you, you bastard!" he bellowed, bracing as the slack vanished.

The lever kept dropping anyway, and the Chain snapped taut and nearly tore his arm from its socket.

He dug both heels into a crack in the ledge, wrapped the slack around his forearm and leaned back hard. Water roared somewhere inside the housing, then choked off as the lever stalled a hand’s width above its open catch.

Sweat stung his eyes as the links ground into his forearm, "Shit, shit, you’re way heavier than you look—"

[ freight_empress: That’s a counterweighted release, the arm wants to fall, he’s holding the whole drop on one chain. ]

[ HearthKeeper: His feet are sliding, somebody help him, anybody. ]

The lever bucked again, and every link bit into his sleeve as it dragged him a step forward.

’Hold it with the Chain first, then find something sturdier than me to hold it.’

The bearing post beside the lever stood cracked down one side, but the second bearing under it still looked whole. He walked his hands down the links, step by grinding step, until the Chain lay squarely across the sound iron.

He looped it around the bearing twice and jammed his left blade through the links where they crossed.

The lever stopped, quivering, its whole weight hanging on the bearing instead of his poor shoulder.

"Ha, there, stay," he wheezed, shaking out his numb fingers, "good lever, very obedient."

When he turned around, the four saboteurs stood exactly where he left them, clutching their saw and mallets.

"Drop the tools, or I start with whoever looks the most confident," he warned, cracking his knuckles.

Two mallets and the bow saw clattered onto the ledge at once, and every man raised both hands.

"Smart, really smart, now sit down and hug the wall."

They sat, and he tied them off with their own belts, threading the captain’s ruined pole behind their elbows.

The youngest saboteur sniffled as the belt cinched, "The captain said you were just a loud foreigner."

"I am a loud foreigner, I’m just also really good at this."

The captain stirred awake halfway through, and Hajin patted his cheek without loosening a single knot.

"You lost to a boy who stopped walking, so chew on that for a while," he snickered.

---

The river below changed its voice while he worked, the rushing tone sinking into something lower and grumpier.

Hajin leaned over the edge and peered down the long bypass channel toward the distant fort and its lower gate. The brown surge against the gate timbers was shrinking already, sliding down the stained planks by a full arm’s length.

’Less water on her gate means less weight shoving against her, so go wild.’

He fished the signal flag out of his coat, shook it open and snapped it twice toward the platform.

Then came three short flicks, the pattern they agreed on before splitting up, meaning upper release secured.

[ ashley(mod): Hajin just signaled the platform, so the upper release is pinned and the lower gate should feel the drop. ]

[ soupatnoon: Two snaps and three flicks, I wrote the flag chart on my hand last week, that’s upper release secured. ]

Hajin cupped his free hand around his mouth anyway, "Less water, you’re welcome, go flatten him!"

[ ShadowMage44: He’s not going down there, he’s letting Loccy have her fight, respect. ]

Far below, a small figure on the platform waved her war mallet once, then turned back toward her fight.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m not coming down," he muttered, grinning at the tiny shape, "that fight’s all yours."

The two chained workers by the water bucket stared up at him, their wrists still bound to its rusted handle.

"Are you, um," the older one stammered, voice cracking, "here for us too?"

"I’m here for everybody, so hold still a second."

He smashed their padlock with a dropped mallet, and the chain slid off their wrists into the puddle.

"Thank you, sir, thank you, we can leave now, can’t we?" the younger one blurted, rubbing his raw wrist.

"Soon, but first I need a favor, how good are you two with timber?"

"We built half this housing," the older one admitted, glancing at the bound captain, "under his whip."

"Perfect, then build it better without the whip."

---

They dragged a long beam from the woodpile behind the housing, grunting, cursing and slipping on the spray-slick stones underfoot. Hajin held the lever steady while they wedged the beam beneath its arm and spiked it to the intact bearing.

The older worker hammered until the spike sank flush, then wiped his face and stepped back to look.

"That’ll hold for days, sir," he promised, slapping the beam, "longer if nobody saws at it."

"Nobody’s sawing anything, I tied up all the saws."

The younger worker snorted out a laugh despite himself, "You tied up the men, sir, the saw’s just lying there."

"Details, details."

"Shouldn’t you go help down there, sir?" the older one asked, nodding toward the distant platform.

Hajin shook his head and kept his eyes on the brace, "Nope, that one’s hers, and she’d bite me for trying."

"Bite you?"

"Hard, with a smile, and then she’d ask for pastries."

"And if she loses?" the younger one whispered, hugging his raw wrists to his chest, "what happens to us?"

"She won’t, and if the brace slips, I’m sitting right here anyway."

Then Hajin pulled his left blade from the crossed links, wiped it on the captain’s coat and finally sheathed it. He unwound the Chain from the bearing link by link and coiled it into his right sleeve where it belonged.

’Chain on the right, blades back home, and nobody’s gate opens today.’

He dropped onto the stones with a pained wheeze, rolling his aching right shoulder until it finally clicked.

"Whew, okay, ow, that hurt a normal amount."

[ IronVanguard: He held an entire release gate with one chain and called it a normal amount of hurt. ]

[ Seoul_Tactician: And he waited for the brace instead of jumping straight into Loccy’s fight, that’s discipline. ]

[ HearthKeeper: Upstream is safe, now let’s see the bunny cook that captain. ]

"Bunny?" he frowned at the scrolling chat, utterly baffled by the word.

[ ashley(mod): Rabbit, more or less, he means Loccy, please don’t call her that to her face. ]

"Hare, she’s a hare," he corrected, scandalized all over again, "and she’d flatten that guy for saying it."

He propped his chin on one fist and watched the platform, where the tiny figure with the mallet stopped retreating.

The water against her gate sank lower still, and she planted both feet and shoved forward.

Captain Brann Keld staggered back one step, then another, toward the locked edge of his own platform.

’There she goes, and I don’t get to steal a single punch of it.’