The Devastator Legion was totally destroyed. Out of the 1000 golem units, no working unit survived the siege.

The team excavated the city and the surrounding plains for three months. We have recovered numerous golem armor parts; however, a large number of these parts are not salvageable anymore.

The salvageable armor parts that we were able to gather belonged to 758 golem units. Out of this 758, only 410 have complete armor parts. If we are to use the incomplete parts to form a full set of Devastator armor we will have 120 more units in addition to the 410 for a total of 630 units.

Unfortunately, no inner mechanisms were recovered and there is no possible way that they can be replicated. They are located inside dimensional storages inside each golem unit. We surmise that all of these dimensional storages are linked to each other and can only be accessed by Isaac Gaomant. With his death we can no longer access this dimensional storage.

Analyzing the recovered armor, we discovered that it is made of an unknown metal with numerous effects. A listing of such effects is attached as Annex A to this report. It is possible to utilize the golem armor sets into making new working units with our own mechanisms inside. Nevertheless, it is the opinion of this team that it would be wasting the war potential of this Devastator armor sets if we are to make new golem units for our current technology cannot match the ones used by Isaac Gaomant.

This team recommends bestowing the Devastator armor sets on the elite knights of the empire for them to be able to fully utilize and benefit from its unique properties. It is also recommended that the Department retain some samples for further research as to possible reproduction.

Report on the Feasibility of Salvaging the Devastator Golem Legion

Department of Engynareum Archives

“Ai, can you repeat your explanation on why we are sneaking around the arena like thieves?” Jel said. “Oh wait, you didn’t explain anything, you just dragged me along.”

“We are not sneaking around,” Aileen replied in a whisper, “and keep your voice down.”

The two Fahllyrs has donned brown cloaks pulled low to hide their features. They did not look out of place since many of the people going into the arena also chose to hide their faces. Amateurs seeking fame and glory in the city, Aileen guessed. Or perhaps, they were famous warriors that don’t want fame and recognition, and just live off the thrill of fighting.

“This really sounds like sneaking around. There’s nothing good to see in the annex. It’s mostly newbies anyway.”

“There’s a match I want to watch here,” Aileen said.

“I’m alright with that. But why did we have to wear cloaks? The attendants at the entrance were quite surprised when you demanded they give us cloaks.”

“It’s because I don’t want us to be seen. Come on let’s go find a seat.”

The ground shook a bit as the stage slowly rose, signaling the start of the next round.

“The next fight will be between Orvin Nephtali, a fire mage prodigy from Dolsworth Academy, and someone who calls himself as the ‘BasketSlayer’, who, according to his words, came from a really faraway place.”

“BasketSlayer? Seriously?” Jel laughed. “You wanted to watch this?” She turned to look at the participants coming up the stage. “Hey! It’s your boyfriend! And why does he have a basket with him?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and that basket was probably the one filled with food that I gave him.” Aileen knew that Jel would tease her to death, but she was interested in what the tourist would do in battle. She also wanted to confirm if he was hiding his strength.

“Aww, you gave him a parting gift and he’s treasuring it.” Jel made kissing sounds beside her. “Did he at least tell you his name?”

Aileen paused and tried to recall his name. ‘Aya’ and ‘Aileen’-that’s just giving Jel some more ammunition to tease her with. She decided not to tell Jel what his name was. Why did he have a name that’s similar to hers anyway? Was that his real name or did he make it up to make fun of her? At any case, she did not know what’s a normal name in Roghinia, which she assumed he was from. She chose to just call him Mr. Tourist in her head until she can ascertain what his real name was.

“I don’t know his name, but he’s probably from Roghinia.” As the words left her mouth, Aileen knew that made a mistake.”

“Oooh, from Roghinia, so exotic. So that’s how you like your men, huh. No normal imperial men for you. Do you plan to go there for your honeymoon?”

“Shut up Jel. The fight’s starting.”

The fire mage dressed in an amber gown, boldly advertising his elemental affinity, stepped on the stage with a cocksure smile. He viewed his opponent with disdain; he was obviously insulted that his first match was against someone named ‘BasketSlayer’. His foe happily waved the basket he was carrying at him and then lowered it to the floor as if to signal that he was ready to fight.

Without making any movement, five angry fireballs materialized out of thin air above the caster’s head.

“No incantations, quite good for some novice brat from mage academy,” Jel said.

Aileen nodded in agreement, she did not remind Jel that they were probably not that much older than the young mage. She turned her attention to what Mr. Tourist would do now. He rolled up his sleeves and raised his arms up to his chest, with cupped hands as if to gather energy on it. She felt a hint of ferocious mana flickering about him. Fire mage Orvin took a step back after feeling the harsh aura.

Suddenly, runes glowing blood red emerged from beneath his black robe, like snakes coiling around his skin. They wrapped around his arms and even crept up his neck. Aileen tried to focus on the runes, they were revolting symbols, and merely looking at them gave her nausea and headaches.

The imposing aura Mr. Tourist exuded immediately disappeared as if the constricting rune snakes throttled it. The runes on his skins immediately vanished like writing on the sand washed over by waves.

“Was that Roghinian magic?” Jel asked. “Those were runes I haven’t seen before, such repulsive constructs.”

Aileen tilted her head. “Probably. Look, it seemed like he made a mistake with whatever he wanted to cast.”

Mr. Tourist had an expression of surprise, no energy ball materialized on his hands. No hint of any mana flow whatsoever can be detected from him. He scratched his head with one hand while still looking at his other cupped hand, looking like he was expecting something to belatedly appear.

Orvin was also bewildered at what he had witnessed. He then seemed to remember that he had floating fireballs and that he was in a fight. With a wave of his hand, two of the fireballs shot straight to Mr. Tourist. Another one traveled in an upward trajectory, tracing a high arc towards the target. The remaining two sped of sideways, one to the left and the other to the right. Both of them then curved towards Mr. Tourist. Fire mage Orvin attacked from all sides, covering any possible movements of his opponent. Even before the fireballs hit their target, he summoned another five fireballs, ready to follow up his initial attack.

Mr. Tourist was frowning at his empty hand when he noticed the incoming fireballs. He bent his knees and crouched down low to grab his basket with one hand. He stretched forth his other hand to support him as he leaned forward. Heels raised, the balls of his feet pressing hard on the ground suddenly pushed, giving him explosive momentum.

Aileen opened her mouth in surprise as Mr. Tourist charged at the two incoming fireballs. He ducked low and they passed harmlessly over his head. The two fireballs he evaded collided with the other three fireballs that came from other directions, the explosion they caused did not harm their intended target as he continued to charge forward, holding his precious basket close to his chest.

The second set of fireballs shot at the charging Mr. Tourist. They moved forward in a spiraling manner to stop their target from going past them unharmed. Orvin then jumped a few times back while sending them forward; this time, they moved in an erratic pattern. He then stood still to begin chanting, a fair distance away from his enemy with ten fireballs between them.

“Quite nimble for a mage,” Jel said. “And he’s chanting now, probably preparing something big.”

“The arena should hire you to become a commentator,” Aileen replied sardonically, rolling her eyes.

Without batting an eye, to the numerous fireballs in front of him, Mr. Tourist continued his charge. He jumped forward, tucked in his chin, arms and knees, curling himself into a tight ball, protecting the basket by his chest, rolling midair in the middle of a torrent of fireballs. Miraculously all fireballs missed him and exploded harmlessly around the stage.

“Wow! He squeezed himself through a gap in the net of fireballs. He was actually able to predict all their movements and find an opening. Looks like your boyfriend is not too shabby.”

Orvin had a calm face despite his opponent evading all his attacks. He stopped his chanting, stomped on the ground and raised his arms. Three gigantic earthen slabs rose from the ground, blocking the way of Mr. Tourist. He then resumed his chant.

“He actually had dual elemental affinity! Cheeky kid, dressing up like a fire mage to trick his opponent.”

“That’s not enough to get called a prodigy. In any case, earth-fire combination is not that rare among dual elemental affinity mages.” Aileen said.

Mr.Tourist stopped in front of the towering slabs, one in front of him and the other two at his sides. A fourth slab suddenly emerged from the ground behind him, effectively boxing him in. Sensing what was coming next after being trapped, he ran up the wall and jumped towards it, springing off, he landed on the opposite wall and pushed hard again, propelling himself higher and higher.

“Too late, Sir BasketSlayer!” Orvin shouted, raising his arms high above his head. “I summon thee! Fire serpent Aznar!”

A hurricane of flames materialized behind the mage, spiraling high in the sky. It solidified into a blazing serpent, which coiled downwards in the direction of the opening of the earth cage. Its jaws gaped wide open; it hurled itself into the middle of the four walls of earth, turning it into a huge furnace. A blazing inferno erupted inside it with fierce howling flames threatening to get out and burst forth the thick slabs.

The handful of spectators in the stands raised their hands to shield themselves from the incoming heat wave, but it was not necessary, for there were shields around the stage to prevent any danger befalling the audience.

Orvin stood at the far side of the stage with a smirk on his face, watching the flames slowly die down. Smoke billowed from the opening of the lofty trap he made. It was as if a giant’s chimney has grown on the stage. He was satisfied that the thick earth slabs were able to contain the explosive power of the fire spirit that he was able to summon. He was quite proud of being able to summon the fire serpent; however, it required insane amounts of mana to maintain its existence for longer periods of time, something that he cannot yet provide. Fortunately, he lasted long enough for the fire spirit to unleash some of its power on his opponent.

He took in deep breaths and started to calm down his body from the excitement of the battle. The stone prison that he made also required a large expenditure of mana, given its size. Although he was a dual elemental mage, he specialized in fire spells. He took great care when using earth spells because he still can’t finely modulate the mana he expends when using them.

Reaching into his robe, he took out one of the mana potions provided to the participants. He felt quite drained. He uncorked the bottle and was about to drink when an arm reached around his shoulders.

“You should make sure that your opponent is down before relaxing.” Another hand, carrying a basket, nabbed the mana potion by his hand.

He reflexively jerked back and pushed away from the man beside him. It was the BasketSlayer! His basket, containing Orvin’s mana potion, hanging by his side.

“How-,” he started to say. Then, his consciousness swayed, his vision blurred; it felt like the pitiful amount of mana left in his body dissipated like smoke in the wind. He had his hands on his knees, fighting the impending unconsciousness. He can’t focus his eyes anymore.

“That was a good plan, to trap me like that. But you should first cast a quagmire spell on the ground. If I was trapped by the mush, I couldn’t have jumped out and evaded your precious fire snake, right?”

“What did you d-.” The fire mage blacked out and fell on the ground.

“Also, you were too flashy, too much effort summoning a fire spirit, you could have just rained a lot of fireballs down on me. Oh, you’re not listening anymore.”

The BasketSlayer looked at the contents of his basket. He looked over the direction of the arena announcer and asked, “Hey! Why does he have a mana potion? Shouldn’t I have one as well?”

“Sir, we tried giving you potions, but you refused. You said, ‘BasketSlayers don’t need potions’.”

“You’re damn right we don’t.”

“I’ll admit that was actually a bit entertaining compared to most preliminary fights. It ended quite quickly though,” Jel said. “We still have time. Want to go over the main arena?”

“I’ll just go talk to that guy first,” Aileen replied, standing up and starting towards the exit.

“Some kind of mana suppression?” Aya muttered to himself while walking down the hallway connected to the stairs towards the warriors area. He was delighted that he now knew the effect of the trap that was cast on him- at least some of its effects. And it wasn’t exactly cast on him, he corrected himself. He sort of willingly got himself trapped when he dropped his blood unto the orb in the underground chamber.

“But I was not yet in the mood to use my powers at that time,” he said, explaining to the air why he got himself fooled by a trick a baby could see through.

“You were not in the mood to use your powers?” Aileen leaned by the wall at the top of the stairs. “Yet you won quite easily.”

Jel was behind Aileen waving vigorously at him. “Hi, Aileen’s boyfriend!”

“Hello, Miss Curator and Miss Curator’s friend! I have the food basket you gave me, would you like it back?”

“You can keep it. By the way, what was that spell you used at the start of the fight? The one with the red runes? Was that Roghinian magic?”

“Roghinian? Yeah, let’s go with that,” Aya said. “It’s some sort of a buff spell, that’s why I was able to evade all of the fire mage’s attack.”

“Oh, I see. What about that thing at the end where he became unconscious?”

“That’s a secret. It’ no good if I share all my techniques, right?”

“True, true. Are you a sealcrafter anyway? The runes that you used before were quite…unique. Maybe I just haven’t seen the likes of them before.” This time, it was Jel asking the question. Aileen looked at her with a bit of surprise since she was not teasing them, but actually asking a serious question.

Aya blinked, not quite sure how to answer the question. “Those are special runes melded onto my body by the elder of our clan. The spells that we use are based on how we manipulate the runes that we have.”

Aileen and Jel looked at each other. “Such a bizarre way of fighting,” Aileen commented. Catching sight of several arena attendants approaching, she grabbed Jel. “Well then, Aya, good luck in your next fights!”

They quickly walked down another corridor followed by some of the attendants, eager to serve them and get in their good graces. Another arena staff came up to with an orb in his hand.

“Congratulations on winning your fight, Mr. BasketSlayer. Your next fight will be this afternoon,” he said while consulting his orb.

“Oh, I thought it was just one fight, then I am already qualified.”

“No, no, sir. Every week, all of the participants fight it out until only a hundred are left. Those people will be the ones fighting in the main arena.”

Aya nodded, “That’s fine. So after the preliminaries, there will be four hundred fighters left? How many fights do I need to win to qualify for this week?”

“You will need to win five more fights, sir. A whole lot more people signed up for the last week of preliminaries, so we need to continuously have matches to trim down the numbers.”

Aya nodded. That does not seem fair, he thought, but he really did not care. Even with the mana suppression curse cast on him, he doesn’t think that he can be defeated. In any case, it would be fun to fight without actually gathering his void mana. Giving himself a handicap made it more challenging for him; it gave the other participants a chance at winning. He would look like a show off if he wins a tournament just after waking up from a five hundred year sleep. Winning was not his goal anyway, he just wants some money to buy food.

“So, when do I get the reward money?”

The attendant looked up from his orb. “Sir, rewards are given to those who qualifying, and they will increase with each match you win afterward,” he said apologetically.

Aya frowned. “Huh, so what do I do now? I really want to eat.”

“What do you mean, sir?” the attendant gave him a puzzled look. “Food is provided to participants until they are eliminated from the competition.”

Aya pumped his fist into the air. At last. The fruits of his labors.

“Food is served in the main arena, just ask any guard there.” The attendant bowed. “If there’s nothing else, I take my leave, sir.”

Aya watched the attendant’s back as he rounded a corner and walked out of sight. He then raised his arm, rolled up his sleeve, and begun to gather mana from the void. As expected, the runes reappeared on his skin once again, snaking through his arm, and just like what happened in his fight earlier, his mana was drained. He maintained his effort of gathering small amounts of mana to keep up the effects of the curse on his body so that he can study the runes.

“Mana drain along with mana suppression. Draining to where?” he muttered. “But that’s not the real question. Why the use of such a complex structure?” A couple of small seals on top of each other can have the same effect. There must be more to this curse than just disabling him.

If he really wanted to, he can just overload the seals placed on him with an enormous wave of mana from the void. However, the imminent backlash from the rebound using such method would destroy a large part of the city. Was that the intention of the person who placed the trap in the underground chamber? Or was it to restrict his power while he was inside the city? Maybe, this mysterious person has some sinister plan that he doesn’t want Aya to foil by using his powers.

It would then lead to more questions. Can the person who made the curse still even be alive? If he was, then there’s the chance that he wasn’t full human or he was descended from a special bloodline. Furthermore, if he did not want Aya to foil his plan, then he could have made sure that the latter would not awaken, or better yet, just kill him while he was asleep. It still remains to be seen whether or not this person was on his side or not, Aya thought.

He ratiocinated that, in case of emergency, he can just go out of the city and find some wide empty space where no one will get hurt and forcefully break the curse. It was, however, a possibility that there were other enchantments that would prevent him from going out of the city. He was still not sure what the effect of the curse was as a whole. Based on the whole structure of the curse, mana suppression and mana drain was only a minor component of it. It would not be prudent to act rashly.

The curse cast on him was on a level of complexity that he has yet to encounter. He also did not recognize several runes used. Scratching his chin, he thought that it would be a fun sport trying to dispel the curse rather than to forcefully break it.

He was asleep for five hundred years anyway with nothing going wrong. The empire he founded seems prosperous and contented. He could not ask for anything more. They were even providing him with free food! He happily went in search of the free food he was promised with his basket by his side. It’s best to fight on a full stomach, he reasoned.

A barbarian hailing from the harsh marshlands of the west stood as his next opponent. Aya’s head can only reach up to his bare, hairy chest. Leather straps running across his chest secured shoulder guards that extended up to his neck. Heavy leather with metal strips wrapped along his forearms. A skirt of layered leather and metal covered his thick fur shorts.

Three deep scars run across his enemy’s face, evidence of a tussle with a ferocious beast when he was younger. His thick brown beard and long hair were woven into intricate braids, making Aya wonder whether learning hairstyling was required among barbarians. It looked like so much effort to get his beard and hair done.

He roared at the heavens and brandished his weapon at Aya.

His meaty left fist clasped the long handle a gigantic double-headed ax. Three gems were embedded on the blade.

Aya tried to guess what their effects were. In the past, weapons with two or more slots were equipped with one gem that adds durability and self-repair properties. Adding special effects to weapons would be a waste if they end up being destroyed in the middle of the fight so having a very durable weapon was paramount.

As for the properties of the other two gems, they would surely have something to do with attack. He had faced cunning fighters in the past that placed gems with unconventional effects on their weapons, such as being able change its shape, causes dizziness if being looked at; there was even one that disguised itself as a sword even though it was actually a crossbow. His muscular opponent would surely favor attack gems; increasing one’s own strength or the weapons weight were quite common effects used by melee fighters.

Fighters nowadays would probably have other preferences. He also did not know if there were gems with new effects that were developed. Such possibility was high, considering five hundred years passed; magic was always progressing. Nevertheless, he had a hunch that one of the gems would surely be elemental magic.

His eyes then fell on the amulet hanging by the chest of the warrior. It was a defense amulet, and judging by the mana lines reaching all over the body of its wearer, it applies a massive defense boost equally all over the body and does not have a weak spot. Aya gave a snort of disbelief. If his opponent had enough money to buy the slotted axe with three gems and defense amulet, which certainly did not come cheap, why can’t he buy himself a shirt?

The warrior before him flexed his rippling muscles and thumped his chest with his right fist and bellowed, “I am Garrin Thunderfist! Son of Gar! Proud warrior of the Mahambalo Delta! Be grateful, little man, for having the honor to be defeated by me!”

Thunderfist? Aya was willing to bet his basket that one of the gems is a lightning stone.