Chapter 2

Lit by the clattering embers of glowing stones, the large table at the center of the war room cast an unwavering shadow that would have been deemed impossible by normal torchlights. Men, adorned with different outfits, debated amongst one another while they inspected the many maps and documents lined atop the table. Their chatter began as a clear and concise debate but quickly devolved into a frantic scuffle of screams and shouts.

“This is absurd!” one of the old men yelled. “There are no documented relics in that area! There is no way that-”

“You callin’ me a liar?!” another equally annoyed man responded. “The Observation Corps know what they saw. That colossal golem-”

“Fell from the sky?!” a third interjected. “Yar old fool, that’s impossible! How the hell do ya think-”

“Well, the shit sure wasn’t there before! Where the hell do you think it came from then?!”

“How do you know it wasn’t them Royal Magicians? Some new spell of theirs, maybe-”

“The Kingdom cannot smith runes, it is impossible for them to produce golems.”

“What about them enchantments? Them mages sure like them enchantments.”

As the group bickered, one man remained calm in his seat. With his fingers interwoven together, the well-built individual watched the scene before him in annoyance.

“SETTLE DOWN!” he commanded, and the room soon went quiet as the occupants all sat down. “The council is a place of deliberation, not childish quarrels. It is our duty to lead in these dire times. Now, Representative Dawson, can your Observation Corps verify what they saw?”

“Well,” the old man said as he scratched his hazel beard, “I ain’t sure what to tell ya besides my men saw ‘em. Some large golem, four times the size of the ones we use. Spells of fire and skin of steel. They say they ain’t never seen somethin’ like it.”

The room sat in silence, some even showed expressions of disbelief. The man who took charge of the council, however, showed no change in his composure.

“How many of the vanguard survived?”

“None, Representative Sutherland,” another of the councilmen voiced bitterly. “One hundred thousand dead.”

“What of the flanking men?” the same individual questioned.

“They were ordered to retreat the moment things turned sour,” the councilmen spoke. “Luckily, they suffered no casualties.”

Audible sighs could be heard around the room as many were relieved that only the vanguard suffered from the unfortunate engagement.

Although the mood lightened slightly at the news, Representative Sutherland instead felt an irritation swell deep within. The Kingdom of Luveria, their western neighbor, constantly invaded the Republic’s territory. With sweat and blood, each transgression against their nation was repelled with mutually devastating results. The people quickly grew tired of the long-drawn-out war and the loss in life. In an attempt to improve public approval, Sutherland concocted a plan to put an end to the senseless battles, or at the very least deal a heavy blow. The initial plan required that amidst the clash between the Kingdom’s men and the Republic’s vanguard, four hundred of the Freedmen Musketeers were supposed to flank their opponent from both sides in a pincer attack. In theory, the confusion would allow for the firing lines to set up and organize before the Kingdom’s forces could respond. If it had succeeded, then they would move forward to the second stage of the grand strategy. The reserves gathered within the nearby town of Roundrock would have been able to reinforce the vanguard forces and push deep within enemy lines. Unfortunately, since the operation failed, they were forced to retreat and form a defensive line.

“So,” Representative Sutherland voiced, “where is the colossal golem now?”

“After the initial retreat, the Observation Corps lost track of the golem, but the tracks left behind suggest that it went deep into the Kingdom’s territory.”

“Oi, if them golem ain’t part of them, then we still gotta chance to get some ground.”

“And if it is? Then we will be sending more men to their deaths.”

“Well then, what’re we gonna do?! Sit back and wait?!”

The room soon returned to the chaos that it once was until the deep, assertive voice of Representative Sutherland again calmed the crowd.

“Enough! You are all elected representatives, act like it.” When the councilmen regained their postures, Sutherland continued. “We will send the Observation Corps to gather more information before we commit to potential decisions. For now, we entrench ourselves and wait.”

“Is that a proposition or a declaration?” one of the councilmen asked as he leaned forward on the table.

“It is a simple proposition. However, may I remind you that the elections are soon approaching?”

Hearing the calm and cold response, the disgruntled man clenched his jaw and backed into his seat.

“All those in favor say aye,” said Representative Sutherland.

To which the room unanimously responded:

“Aye.”

***

After the basic structures were constructed, the Mobile Construction Unit began its quest to find new fuel sources. It, being the large and slow-moving machine that it was, could not efficiently scout out a large area; therefore, it ordered the manufacturing of specialized scout units. The scouting machines’ shapes were reminiscent to that of a fish with two legs. It stood at roughly the same height as the worker bots, but it could move at four times the speed. Armed with only a mineral scanner, it was not designed for combat.

The trees within the surrounding landscape were quickly carved out. Wood proved to be a very inefficient source of fuel as it barely provided the much-needed high temperatures. As a result, the turbine produce electricity at only half capacity.

“Construction Complete,” the machine stated as it finished up another turbine.

In total, with the addition of the power generator that was newly built, four turbines ran concurrently to fulfill the compound’s immense power demands. Beside the Manufactury and mass extractor, the newly constructed chemical plant drained the power reserves, sometimes requiring the colossal machine to supplement the power grid with its own core.

Days passed since the Manufactury became operational, and not once did it halt production. After completing the requested twenty scouting units, it immediately returned to the assembly of worker robots.

The machine scanned its surroundings. It calculated that the forest would last the facility approximately a week at most before the fuel supply depleted.

Other matters needed to be addressed as well. Strange images had been regularly appearing on the Machine’s sensors. After another and more thorough scan, it discovered that a chemical marked as IL-3883 had been leaking internally. Data regarding the specific nature of the fluid was never disclosed, but the machine concluded that may have been the probable cause of its system corruption.

“Requesting supplement of I-L-3-8-8-3… Failed. Communication link with mainframe not established.”

The machine had attempted to contact its deployment ship many times with no success. Left without an objective, it resorted to its default initiative until further notice. Although the compound arrived at basic functionality, many critical components were still missing. The chemical plant required specialized storage tanks to hold the synthesized fluids. A series of complex fluid multiplexers needed to be manufactured and installed to allow for the quick selection of specific chemicals. And after all that, a Munitions Assembly had to be constructed before the colossal machine could produce the much-needed ammunition.

“Analyzing internal munitions compartment… at half capacity. Limited offensive and defensive capabilities. Priorities updated. Uploading new schematic to Manufactury.”

At that moment, the Manufactury ceased its production and scrapped the robot that was under construction. A few readjustments later, it began to manufacture a new type of machine. At completion the new variant was inspected and allowed off the platform.

The freshly assembled machine stood at about seven feet tall. For mobility, it beared two capable legs that were designed for speed. Instead of hands, the machine had large sharpened spikes that were optimized to penetrate and skewer its target. Using the single circular lense on its rectangular head, it scanned its surroundings before it beeped twice.

Five more of the assault robots were outputted before the Manufactury was temporarily shut down. Every additional unit taxed the already burdened power supply. The MCU concluded that the current workforce was sufficient, therefore any further expansions would be unnecessary.

As the titanic machine inspected the constantly fluctuating efficiency of the steam turbines, it received a signal from one of the scouting units.

“Coal deposit located. Proceeding to acquisition.”

The six assault bots immediately jolted out of their idle states and dashed out of the compound with the titan slowly following behind.

***

A series of clinks and clanks reverberated from within a small cottage. Inside, an old man grounded away at the fragments of dried plants with his obsidian mortar and pestle. The man wore a dusty but extravagant robe, a relic from when he scoured the land for adventure.

Knock-Knock.

“Who is it?” he shouted, his voice raspy and tired yet still kind and charming.

“Uncle! Mom told me to tell you that dinner is ready,” a young boy responded.

The old man opened his window and glanced outside. He saw that the sky had been dyed red as only the uppermost portion of the sun could be seen.

“Oh my, is it this late already?” he spoke as he stroked his gray beard. “I’ll be there soon! You guys start without me.”

“Ok.” The sound of faint footsteps could be heard as his niece dashed away.

With his hands supporting his back, the old man stood up and stretched, releasing a grunt as his rigid bones popped into place. He then stretched his arms wide above his head and yawned. Another day had ended in this small and quiet town of Strosten.

Though the inhabitants of Strosten referred to their settlement as a ‘town’, it was really just a small village. It had a population of just over two hundred, and thus it was not recognized by their local Lord. However, the townspeople's pride did not succumb as this was the birthplace of the Battle Sage Mulumor.

After washing his face, Mulumor exited his residence. As the sun slowly set, the small town gradually lit up with the light of countless lanterns. The man stepped forward and took a deep breath. He loved the cool and calming scent of the forested town, hence why he chose to return. To him, there was nothing quite like the smell of summer grass to relax his mind. Walking toward his younger brother’s dwelling, he could smell the luscious scent of roasted chicken. His mouth salivated and his heart pounded with excitement. However, he could not show it since he needed to display a wise appearance fit for his title.

Knock-Knock.

“Come in,” a woman’s tenderly voice answered. “It’s unlocked!”

Opening the door, Mulumor saw that his sister-in-law, Delphia, was still setting up the table. His brother, Lucas, who was ten years younger, was already sitting at the table with their two children. The little boy annoyed his older sister with constant mockery, to which the little girl attempted to ignore. Witnessing the lively family brought warmth and joy to his heart, and it also made him regret that he could not start his own family.

Soon after the old man sat down, Delphia finished the setup and sat down as well.

“Rupert, Alestra, we do not play at the table.” The two children quickly ceased their bickering at their mother’s command. Delphia then shifted her attention to Mulumor. “Thank you for joining us again today, brother-in-law.”

“Please, I prefer to be called the Great Sage Mulumor.” After a brief moment of silence, the old man chuckled and continued. “I’m joking, I’m joking! Just calling me by my name is fine.”

“That wasn’t funny!” the small boy blurted out, to which his mother quickly hushed.

“Well then, anyways, let’s get the meal started!” The woman began to distribute the dishes to everyone sitting at the table. Mulumor sat quietly in his seat without motion, but in his mind, he was furiously banging his head against the table. Years of isolation due to his research had made him forget how to properly socialize. Therefore, uncomfortable interactions occurred more frequently than he would have liked.

“Alright, dig in!” Delphia said with a smile, she acted as if nothing had happened to allow the awkwardness to dissipate. As they dined, Mulumor’s brother struck up conversations regarding his research and past adventures, as well as whatever miscellaneous topics arose. The evening was filled with laughter and charm. Eventually, it came to an end as the plates were picked clean. Delphia was the first to get up as she cleaned up the plates while the children remained seated and listened in wonder as Mulumor told his tales.

“Uncle,” Alestra voiced, “do you still keep up with your old adventuring buddies?”

While stroking his beard, the old man searched his mind for his friends’ whereabouts.

“Well, I’m sure most of them are retired and have settled down. But, I know that one of them currently works as a sword instructor at the capital. Maybe someday I’ll take you th-”

AHHHHHHHHHHHH-

A sudden and abrupt scream resonated from not too far away. Everyone stared at each other in shock for a short period of time.

“What was that, Daddy?” the little boy asked.

Lucas hastily left his seat and grabbed his coat.

“Honey?” Delphia said with a slight tremble in her voice. “What was that? Did someone get hurt at the coal mines?”

“I don’t think so, it didn’t come from that direction. It sounded more like someone’s getting attacked.”

“Raiders?” the woman then questioned.

“I don’t know, but bring me my sword and lock the doors until I return.” The man then looked at the sitting Mulumor. “You think you can help me with this one?”

The old man stood up and stretched his back.

“Well, these old bones aren’t just for show.” Mulumor then rotated his arms, one at a time. “Thank you for the wonderful meal.”