《Retribution Engine/Sturmblitz Kunst [Ultraviolent Martial Arts Progression Fantasy]》76 - Titan's Bane
Advertisement
Zel couldn’t help but stop her sturmgandr as they emerged at the peak of Jorfr’s secret mountain pass, gazing out at the mountain which was to serve as their passage to the Deterrence Fields. The maps had never given the eponymous Titan of Titan’s Bane its just desserts, that immovable artifact of a previous, perhaps greater age, and of the struggle to protect that age from the desolation which had inevitably claimed it. The Titan’s matte-black skeleton was sprawled out on its back against the mountain’s slopes, staring blankly into the heavens; two of its upper ribs were missing, right over the heart, and an unnatural canyon yawned wide-open in the mountainside. A wound left behind by whatever had killed the living weapon.
One could see the missing rib segments at the foot of the mountain, propped up as an archway, denoting the cave entrance which was too small to be seen from this far off by anyone but Zef. A hair-thin scar of carved-out rock spiraled up the mountainside.
“These things lose a great deal of the magic if you live inside one for a while. The fourth rib from the top kept blocking the sun out of my window, ” Vic remarked. Meanwhile, Zef took a moment to retrieve her fotoapparat and take a picture of the vista.
“Wonder how many of these things there are…” Zel thought aloud.
An answer came from Victor: “Dozens. Most buried in the Deterrence Fields. A separationist faction built a whole army of the things during the Ankhezian civil war to fight the Imperial Family’s army of Dragon Descendants. The Titan of Arches, Titan’s Bane, and the Mouth of Prasticaris, though… They’re new.”
“New?”
Vic shrugged: “It’s the blackstone skeletons. The originals have skeletons made of artificial dragonbone and weird wooden muscles that don’t decay, at least according to the books I’ve read.”
Advertisement
“Wish I could’ve seen one of them in motion,” Zel sighed. “Hard to imagine the sheer magnitude of such a gigantic thing just walking around.”
“I mean, there is one still around from the Three Kings Era…”
“No shit?”
“In Borea,” Jorfr interjected. “Just walking around. It simply arrived one day and took to patrolling one spot in the middle of nowhere. I think it’s waiting for something. A new command, maybe, or some enemy that was supposed to be there but never arrived.”
“An abandoned war machine trying to fulfill a purpose it doesn’t understand, forever… C’mon, let’s get a move on.”
The paths of Titan’s Bane constituted a windswept maze of rock shelves and narrow roads carved into the mountainside, which wound in and out through modified cave systems like some rock-eating parasite. Ancient, yet rock-steady bridges stretched across chasms, sprawling glyphs defiantly thawing frost from their surfaces. Navigating the network was time-consuming due to the necessity of moving relatively slowly, but it went altogether without incident. There, several hundred meters above ground, but only a fraction of the way towards the summit; a crossroad met them here, but there was no decision to be made.
One side path was marked on their maps as leading to Fortress Baritin, the north-westernmost town point of Grekuria, and the other had the vague mark of “to the Mountain Kingdoms”. A short while after passing the crossroad and emerging at the other side of the mountain, the Deterrence Fields came into view; the desolate, mist-covered plane sprawled out over the horizon, immense arms reaching skyward like a macabre forest.
A short while into the descent they began coming across signs of combat that starkly contrasted with the otherwise near-pristine state of Titan’s Bane. Bullet holes and gouge marks surrounded by molten rock scarred the walls and ground. A Grekurian armored trench coat of the sort worn by Inquisitors lay discarded on the ground, bloodstained and half shredded apart.
Advertisement
“There’s a dead walking tank around the corner,” Jorfr piped up, and lo and behold, there it was. It was a hollow shell of steel, gutted for its engine and cold-iron rich internals, one of its arms severed at the shoulder while the other was so badly ripped up it may as well not be there. What was left of the missing arm could be found embedded in the wall a few meters away, the long-dried stains of a crushed head and tatters of an inquisitorial gas mask telling the tale of its final act. Evidence of battle with several Inquisitors abounded in this place and a good distance further down, primarily in environmental battle damage and gore that hadn’t been scoured from the stone.
Descending to ground level, they found that the passage between the path and the Deterrence Fields was filled with warnings of how pointless it was to go out into the fields. They stopped for a moment, and Zefaris peered out into the Deterrence Fields, muttering: “There are… Swaths of smaller arms between the giant ones.”
Zef turned to Jorfr, blinking to reset her eyes.
“The Cursed Automata you mentioned?”
The Borean nodded: “My father only ever warned me of never straying too close to them, but it appears an active Sturmgandr irritates them. When I was hiding atop one of the titan’s arms, I saw them swarm the machine only to immediately lose interest the moment the engine shut off.”
“It makes little difference. We may as well assume that we’ll be chased the whole way to the Mouth of Prasticaris,” Zel stated matter-of-factly. She didn’t think so just because Jorfr had been pursued, but also due to a dream which she’d had a while back which predicted this very scenario without her having had any way to know she would come through here. “With that in mind, the automata might be able to catch up to us eventually due to the speed decrease caused by two people on one sturmgandr…”
“This place is a gigantic mausoleum,” Zef said. “If there is an ideal place for me to use Eternal Snow, this is it. I’ll just carve the glyph ahead of us and trigger it once we’ve passed through it to freeze the automata.”
“I could also use Mud Slick and Bramble Growth to slow them down if it comes down to it…” Vic offered.
Satisfied with these suggestions, Zel nodded: “No point in just waiting, let’s get ready and take the shot.”
Advertisement
Wildcards: The Dread Captain
At the District One Invitational, a rookie eSports team defied all odds and reached the finals. Their underdog story and humble beginnings elevated them to worldwide acclaim. Media corporations dubbed them, The Paragons. With their main competition eliminated from the tournament during the semifinals, the rookie team sailed through the live finals and won by a landslide. Their prize was to become the first ever players in the most exclusive VR game yet, Abidden. The Paragons never celebrated that semi-final victory. They lost a friend in that match, who never appeared online again. Ten years later, the gaming landscape has changed and Abidden with it. Helena is the last remaining Paragon. Her team now consists of celebrities, influencers and musicians. Abidden has been reduced to a shadow of its former glory, but is the most streamed and viewed game in the world, despite having only a handful of players. None of this matters to James Sylvester. Finally out of hospital, things aren't good for James. He's found himself crippled with medical debt, his gaming licence has been revoked and he's permanently lost his place in society. He now spends his days competing in illegal slum arcades to manage the repayments. When a high-profile job comes along, James gets temporary backdoor access to his blacklisted gaming account. After reactivating it for the first time in ten years, James receives an invitation that could change his life forever. Disclaimer: This story is in no way or form associated with the works of George R. R. Martin and has no link to the popularised series, Wild Cards. This is a LitRPG story of my own creation that shares that name.
8 126Number One Commander
Life is an unfair game. If you were born rich and smart, then you were more than likely arrogant and cunning. If you were born poor and dumb, you were probably simple and ignorant. A commander is someone who protects his people regardless of their faults, position, and riches, but the Number One Commander is someone who would even protect the Galaxy itself. Join Luon Fate, an engineer and a bookworm simpleton who changed the fate of humanity. Orcs? Elves? Demons? Cultivators? Follow Luon in another fantasy, sci-fi, martial artist novel in the making. Releases on: When I have time, maybe once a week hopefully? Available On: https://creativenovels.com/novel/number-one-commander/
8 96Dear Diary, I Have a Mate
Arrabella Middletin hasn't spoken a word since she was eight years old. The only thing she shares her thoughts with is her diary. She lives with her abusive father and is starting a new school. With a dad that freaks out when she makes a friend or even associates with others what will he do when Arrabella discovers that werewolves exist and she finds her mate; her alpha mate. How will she react when her mate has a hard time controlling his anger and Aria won't talk to him? What will he do when he finds out she can talk? Will Aria shut him out or let him in? Will Tyson be okay with her being mute? Will he leave or will he be just what Aria needs?
8 365When My Heart Speaks
Poems with simple words and delicate meanings
8 94Project Goddess || Percy Jackson x Reader
One day on Olympus, the gods agreed to test their powers and see what they could do. Which resulted in them creating a whole new goddess named (Y/n). (Y/n) must train and learn how to survive as an immortal goddess. But when the Fates arrive and tell the gods they have altered time in an negative way when creating (Y/n), they must send her to Camp Half Blood and live a life as a demigod without anything knowing she is a goddess. At Camp Half Blood she meets a certain demigod named Percy Jackson.[A/N] I wrote this when I was twelve, so I deeply apologize uhh this whole story is a mess[percy jackson x f!reader]
8 78The Cruel Tyrant
This is story is not mine. For offline purpose only. Forcefully snatching handsome men and imprisoning them into his harem is nothing out of the ordinary. Murder and arson is everyday life. Exterminating entire families and massacring whole cities are just recreational hobbies.The common people wish daily to rip his tendons and flay his skin. The court officials and chancellors desire strongly to see his death. His royal brothers itch to swallow him whole. Warding evil spirits during the day and expeling demons at night - he is the tyrant who strikes terror in the hearts of the common people.Creating the foundation of a thousand year dynasty, leaving behind accomplishments that change generations - he is the controversial Emperor of Qing debated over in history texts.Note: The Qing in this story is 青, which is made up and different from the existing Qing 清 dynasty of China's history.
8 173