stjorthotic Chapter 54 Major Repair
Chapter 54 Major Repair
Time passed by, second by second.
Ohm on the screen was completely dumbfounded.
The pixelated smiley face turned into a giant exclamation mark.
【! 】
This...this doesn't make sense...
Model mismatch... Interface protocol incompatibility... Energy transmission efficiency below 40%...
How could this possibly move?!
In Ohm's calculations, this haphazardly pieced-together thing was nothing more than a pile of industrial waste.
however.
Three hours later.
When the last wire was connected, when the last piece of armor was forcibly smashed flat by Victor with his hammer.
Lorraine wiped the engine oil off his face, stood in front of the row of mechs who had stood up again, and let out a long sigh.
"start up."
He snapped his fingers.
"Buzz—"
A deep, teeth-grinding engine roar suddenly erupted in this armory that had been silent for hundreds or thousands of years.
That's the sound of the engine's heart beating.
Although there was some arrhythmia and some murmurs, their hearts were indeed beating!
Ten Tier 2 [Iron Guard] mechs.
Three Tier 3 Centurion Heavy Machine Gunners.
In addition, there were a few barely functional spare parts left in the corner.
There are a total of fifteen Tier 2 mechs and five Tier 3 mechs.
Although the indicator lights on their eyes flashed an unstable red light, some of their arms were of different lengths, and some even had vines that Olivia hadn't had time to remove hanging from their bodies.
But none of that matters.
Importantly, the dark muzzles of their guns still exude a chilling deterrent power.
"look."
Lorraine turned around and gave Ohm, who had completely crashed on the screen, a bright smile.
His face was covered in black engine oil, making him look somewhat disheveled, but in Ohm's eyes, it was the most dazzling smile she had ever seen.
"This is the wisdom of the poor."
The binary code on the screen flickered wildly, eventually being translated into two lines of trembling large characters:
One bug prevented the app from starting, but a bunch of bugs enabled it to run perfectly.
Big brother... are you... are you a monster?
Lorraine shrugged.
He patted the Tier 3 Centurion machine gun beside him that had just been "resurrected," feeling the cold steel against his skin. The smile in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a chilling killing intent.
"I am not a monster."
"I'm just a lord who'll do anything to survive..."
He looked north.
That is the direction from which Haji, the Winter of the Blade, is about to arrive.
"Now, we have cards to play."
……
The night in Frostwolf City is as cold as the bones of a dead man.
Percival huddled under the velvet blankets, shivering all over.
The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, but he couldn't feel any warmth.
It was as if the moment he closed his eyes, the prince's confidant would emerge from the mirror and grab him by the neck.
The crisp sound of bones being crushed bit by bit echoed endlessly in his mind.
"Ten days."
"Extinguish the flame of Lorraine's soul."
The sound was like maggots crawling into his eardrums.
Percival sat up abruptly, grabbed the bottle of gin from the bedside table, and without even using a glass, tilted his head back and chugged it down.
The spicy liquor burned down my throat, barely suppressing the spasms in my stomach.
"How do I kill... how do I kill..."
He smashed the empty bottle onto the carpet.
This is Frostwolf City, while that bastard Lorraine is hundreds of kilometers away, deep in the ice plains.
Outside, a blizzard of minus forty degrees Celsius raged, along with hordes of monsters, threatening to unleash a treacherous event at any moment.
Send assassins?
Do not make jokes.
Even bounty hunters who are willing to risk their lives for money will shake their heads when they hear the words "the far north ice plains".
The ice fields during the snowy season are a no-go zone for humans.
No one can reach Lorraine's location.
Percival jumped off the bed barefoot and paced restlessly on the thick, expensive carpet.
He rushed to the huge full-length dressing mirror and stared intently at himself in the mirror.
It was a face exactly like Lorraine's.
This was his trump card, and also his death warrant.
"I am the lord... I am Earl Frostwolf..."
He whispered nervously to himself in the mirror, his fingers trembling as he touched the skin on his cheek.
"Once that bastard dies, it will all be real."
"But why isn't he dead yet?!"
Percival abruptly opened the Book of Consecration.
For the past few days, the red dot representing Lorraine has been flashing deep within the ice plains.
Each flash seemed to mock Percival's incompetence.
"Damn it...damn it..."
He brought the book of investiture close to his eyes, his bloodshot eyes almost touching its surface.
Sudden.
His movements froze.
The points of light on the Book of Conferment moved.
It is no longer a slight movement that hovers within a small area, but a large displacement.
"Is he moving?"
Percival squinted and traced famous coordinates on the parchment map with his finger.
Today, the entire Frostwolf city witnessed the sight of that mobile city striding across the edge of the ice plains.
The sheer power of these northern mountains standing tall is enough to leave a lasting impression on anyone.
And now, the coordinates of the light spot in Lorraine seem to be approaching that moving city.
Percival's breath caught in his throat for a second.
As a well-educated nobleman, he certainly knew what a mobile city was.
The remnants of the Golden Age.
A war machine out of control.
Historically, those enormous steel monsters roamed the ice fields for hundreds of years, their built-in automatic defense systems tearing apart any creature that came near.
Until one day, it suddenly stopped in the distance of the ice field.
And now, this mobile city has actually been restarted?
Moreover, Lorraine seems to be getting closer to that mobile city?
Even the Empire's most elite Griffin Knights dared not approach those moving steel tombs lightly.
"Is he insane?"
Percival muttered to himself, staring intently at the point of light.
The red dot plunged headlong into the area where the mobile city was located without slowing down.
then.
It flickered twice.
As if swallowed by something, the light dimmed instantly, becoming almost imperceptible.
Percival was stunned.
Even through the Book of Consecration, he could imagine the scene on the other side.
That bastard, oblivious to his own limitations, barged into the mobile city's security perimeter.
Then, they were instantly torn to shreds by countless automatic turrets or those wandering mechanical monsters.
"They're inside..."
Percival's voice trembled.
It was an overwhelming joy that followed extreme repression.
"He's inside!"
A sharp laugh escaped his throat, echoing through the luxurious bedroom.
"Hahaha! You idiot! You're courting death!"
Percival threw away the Book of Consecration, collapsed onto the bed as if he were completely exhausted, limbs outstretched, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
He doesn't need to lift a finger.
There is no need to send assassins.
They also wouldn't have to face the punishment of that terrifying "man in the mirror."
Lorraine courted death by trespassing into the moving city!
In a place like that, even a high-ranking knight wouldn't survive a day!
"God bless me... truly divine protection!"
Percival rolled around wildly on the bed, wrapping himself in the silk sheets like a child who had received candy.
The heavy weight on his heart finally lifted.
No one can escape a mobile city alive.
Absolutely not.
That bastard is dead.
As long as he becomes a corpse inside, then this Frostwolf City, this ducal title, this house full of gold and beauties...
It will be his forever.
"Guards! Guards!"
Percival sat up abruptly and yelled at the door.
The heavy oak door was pushed open, and two sleepy-eyed maids knelt tremblingly at the doorway.
"grown ups……"
"Go to the wine cellar! Bring me that bottle of the Earl's 150-year-old vintage!"
Percival jumped out of bed, ripped open the collar of his robe, and his face was flushed; there was no trace of the dejection and fear he had shown moments before.
He walked barefoot on the carpet and even hummed an unknown tune.
"Tell the kitchen to prepare a midnight snack! I want roasted venison leg! The freshest one possible!"
The maids looked at each other, quite frightened by the unpredictable young master, and quickly kowtowed and retreated.
Percival walked to the window and pushed it open.
A cold wind blew in, swirling snowflakes that pelted his face.
But he didn't feel cold at all.
He just felt great.
It felt so good it made my scalp tingle.
The dark ice field in the distance was no longer a terrifying abyss in his eyes, but a perfect tomb to bury the great affliction in his heart.
"Die there, brother."
Percival picked up the half-empty glass of wine on the table, raised it towards the north, and curled a cruel and triumphant smile at the corner of his mouth.
"That lump of iron coffin is befitting your status."
"I will make sure you enjoy all of this."
He downed the wine in his glass in one gulp and slept soundly for the first time in several nights on this snowy night.
In his dream, he wore a count's robe, stood at the pinnacle of power, and received the worship of thousands.
The real Lorraine had long since rotted away in the unknown steel ruins, becoming dinner for rats.
What a beautiful night.
---
The branch of the Alchemists' Association was brightly lit.
A sense of anxiety permeated the air.
"President, I don't understand."
The young assistant was carrying a thick stack of documents, his brow furrowed so deeply it could trap a fly.
"Young Master Lorraine, who was exiled, has been out of contact for almost three hours."
The assistant slammed a magic monitoring chart on the table, pressing his finger hard against the precipitous drop in the curve.
"His vital signs entered a high-interference zone and then disappeared completely."
"According to our risk assessment model, this is an 'extremely high risk' event, meaning the target may already be dead."
The assistant pushed up his glasses, his tone revealing a cold-blooded determination to cut losses.
"All the supplies we invested, the free medicines we distributed, and the money we spent to help him repair the slums... have all gone down the drain."
"President, at this point, we should immediately stop the investment and cut our losses, instead of staying up all night staring at a dead person's signal."
President Pym sat behind his large desk, holding two warm magic cores in his hands.
His usually squinting eyes were now bloodshot, yet surprisingly bright.
"What's the rush?"
Pym's voice was a little hoarse, but it had a shrewd, old-fox-like composure.
"Young man, if you only look at the data in front of you when doing business, you'll only ever be an assistant for the rest of your life."
"But..." the assistant wanted to argue.
"Shut up and watch."
Pym interrupted him, gesturing with his chin toward the enormous crystal ball in the center of the table.
That was the association's highest-level "All-Area Demonic Fire" monitoring crystal ball.
Although its positioning accuracy is not as high as that of the Book of Conferment, the information it provides is still very valuable.
At this moment, the inside of the crystal ball was murky, and the faint starlight representing Lorraine had indeed disappeared.
The assistant sighed and was about to turn around to organize the stop-loss report.
Sudden.
"drop--"
A crisp buzzing sound pierced their ears like a needle.
The assistant turned around abruptly.
From the depths of that murky crystal ball, a blinding light suddenly burst forth without warning.
No.
It wasn't leaked.
It lights up.
It lit up steadily and clearly.
It's like a lighthouse suddenly being lit on a dark sea.
"This...how is this possible?!"
The assistant's eyes widened, and he rushed to the table, staring intently at the point of light.
"The signal has been reconnected? And... this strength..."
The previous signal was only the size of a firefly and could go out at any time.
The signal is now as stable as a nail driven into a map.
President Pym suddenly stood up from his chair, the movement so forceful that it knocked over the wine glass beside him.
Red liquid spilled all over the table, but he didn't even glance at it.
"Coordinates! Give me the coordinates!"
Pym roared, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
The assistant frantically guided the magic circle to operate the crystal ball.
"...This location..."
The assistant's fingers quickly compared the map, then he froze.
He slowly raised his head, his face filled with an expression of utter disbelief.
"President... these coordinates... coincide with the 'abnormal seismic source' we detected before."
"What was the epicenter?" Pym pressed, his eyes fixed on his assistant.
"We saw that abnormal vibration source today; it's...it's a mobile city."
The assistant swallowed hard; his throat felt dry.
"Based on the analysis of the magic wave spectrum, it is a mobile city of the 'Tower of Babel' level from the Golden Age."
The room fell into a deathly silence.
Only a faint humming sound came from the crystal ball.
A few seconds later.
Chairman Pym suddenly laughed.
First he chuckled softly, then he burst into maniacal laughter, slapping his thighs.
"Hahaha! I knew it! I knew my judgment wouldn't be wrong!"
He paced back and forth in his office, as excited as a gold prospector who had discovered a gold mine.
"That's a mobile city! That's the legacy of the Golden Age!"
Do you know what this means?
Pym grabbed his assistant by the collar, pulled him in front of him, and spat in his face.
"This means that the exiled young master not only survived, but he also gained control of the city!"
"I told you he inherited the legacy of a great lord from the previous era, didn't I? Look at him, he's even climbed onto a mobile city!"
The assistant was so dizzy from being shaken that her mind was still a bit foggy.
"But...that's a restricted area...how could anyone possibly get in..."
"That's the 'Great Lord's Legacy'! This is something only the Great Lord's Legacy from the Golden Age could achieve!"
Pym released his grip, his eyes filled with a terrifying fervor.
He had previously only guessed that Lorraine possessed the legacy of a Grand Lord from the Golden Age.
Now, that speculation has become an undeniable fact.
A lord who can control mobile cities.
Even if that city is already dilapidated, it is still a mobile war fortress and a walking resource depot!
Pym looked at the stable point of light in the crystal ball that moved with the moving city, as if he were looking at a mountain of gold.
"Quickly! Pass on my orders immediately!"
"I want to invest more!"