The moment of weightless triumph, however, was short-lived. Gravity, that inescapable force, reasserted itself, pulling them back down, back towards the churning water.

  "We're landing!" Roland shouted, his voice urgent, snapping them back to reality. "Brace for impact!"

  The boat slammed back into the river with a bone-jarring crash, a deafening splash that sent a wall of water surging over them. They were drenched, momentarily disoriented, but they were alive. And they were through.

  They had cleared the chokepoint, bypassed the seemingly impenetrable barrier, survived the impossible jump. They had, against all odds, conquered the heart of Hammer Falls.

  But their celebration was premature.

  As the boat settled back into the water, a new sound, a sickening, ominous crack, echoed through the roar of the rapids. It was the sound of wood splintering, of seams splitting, of a vessel pushed beyond its limits.

  William, his heart sinking, instantly understood the implications. The boat, battered by the rapids, weakened by the impact with the rock ramp, and stressed by the jump, had sustained significant damage.

  He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in his muscles, the lingering effects of the adrenaline surge. He quickly assessed the hull, his eyes scanning for the source of the damage.

  He found it.

  A large crack, running along the bottom of the boat, near the bow, where they had impacted the rock ramp. It wasn't a gaping hole, not yet, but it was a serious breach, a weak point that threatened the integrity of the entire vessel. Water was seeping in, steadily, relentlessly, a constant reminder of their precarious situation.

  "We've sprung a leak!" William shouted, his voice filled with alarm. "The hull's cracked! We're taking on water!"

  The elation of their miraculous jump evaporated, replaced by a renewed sense of urgency, of impending disaster. They had survived Hammer Falls, but they were now in a sinking boat, in the middle of a fast-flowing river, with the Goblin King's army likely still searching for them.

  "How bad is it?" Roland asked, his voice grim, his eyes fixed on the rising water.

  "It's bad," William admitted, his voice tight with concern. "The reinforce spell helped, but it wasn't enough to prevent all damage. The boat's still afloat, for now, but it's leaking steadily. At this rate… we won't have much time."

  They needed a solution, and they needed it fast. They couldn't simply drift along, hoping for the best. They needed to reach the shore, to get out of the river, before the boat sank beneath them.

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  "We need to reach the bank," William said, his voice firm, his mind racing. "As quickly as possible. But the current's still too strong. We'll never make it by rowing alone."

  It was Caspian, surprisingly, who offered the solution. His face was pale, his body still trembling from the ordeal, but his eyes held a spark of ingenuity, a glimmer of hope.

  "The rope!" he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched with a mixture of fear and excitement. "The rope we brought for repairs! We can use it as a lifeline!"

  He explained his plan, his words tumbling over each other in his haste. They would tie the rope securely around themselves, creating a human chain. Then, someone, ideally the strongest among them, would attempt to throw the other end of the rope, lasso-style, towards a sturdy tree branch on the riverbank. If they could secure the rope, they could use it to pull themselves to safety, abandoning the sinking boat and escaping the treacherous currents.

  It was a risky plan, fraught with potential complications. The throw would be difficult, requiring both strength and accuracy. The rope might not hold, might snap under the strain. The current might drag them under, even if they managed to secure the line. But it was their best chance, their only chance, and it may be just enough to work.

  Roland, after a moment of consideration, nodded his approval. "It's worth a try," he said, his voice firm. "It's our best option."

  They quickly put the plan into action. They untangled the coil of rope they had brought for the boat repairs, its rough texture a reassuring presence in their hands. They tied it securely around their waists, creating a human chain, a lifeline connecting them to each other, a symbol of their shared fate.

  Roland, with his strength and his experience, volunteered for the crucial task of throwing the rope. He coiled the line carefully, his movements practiced and deliberate, his eyes fixed on the riverbank, searching for a suitable target.

  He spotted it. A massive tree, its trunk thick and gnarled, its branches reaching out over the water, stood on the bank, a beacon of hope in the swirling chaos. One particular branch, thick and sturdy, seemed to be within reach.

  Roland took a deep breath, steadied himself, and threw.

  The rope sailed through the air, a thin, fragile line against the backdrop of the raging river. It arced towards the tree, its trajectory seemingly true, its momentum carrying it towards its target.

  For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed as if it would fall short, as if their desperate gamble had failed. But then, with a satisfying thwack, the rope wrapped around the branch, snagging on a knot, holding firm.

  A collective cheer erupted from the boat, a brief, spontaneous outburst of relief and triumph. They had a lifeline, a connection to the shore, a chance to escape the sinking vessel.

  "Everyone, grab the rope!" Roland shouted, his voice commanding. "And jump! Now! The boat won't last much longer!"

  One by one, they leaped from the doomed boat, their bodies plunging into the icy water, their hands gripping the rope, their lives hanging in the balance. The current tugged at them, threatening to pull them under, but they held on, their determination fuelled by adrenaline and a primal will to survive.

  Roland was the last to leave the boat and with that, they had abandoned Herbert’s boat to its watery grave. They pulled themselves along the rope, hand over hand, fighting against the current, their muscles screaming in protest. It was a slow, arduous process, each inch gained a victory, each pull a testament to their collective strength.

  Finally, gasping for breath, soaked to the bone, and utterly exhausted, they reached the shore. They collapsed onto the muddy bank, their bodies trembling, their lungs burning, their hearts pounding. They were safe, for the moment. They had survived Hammer Falls. But their journey was far from over.