Steel and Mana-Chapter 404 – Visiting Khulman (2)

It was the first time Lancelot had traveled out on his own. This time, it was different than going on a scouting mission, still close to the main city, within arm's reach of the home base. This time around, there was only he and the soldiers following him as his guards. Of course, he didn't let the excitement show on his face, but anyone familiar enough with him could see it in his eyes. Especially when they crossed over Markoth's old borders and into Aymnes' territory, it didn't take him long, only a day, to realize why it had a new name...

For why the Khulmans called it the Dead Land.

There was no need to give it another name, really. It stretched like a barren landscape between the mountains and the first hills of Khulman territory. In the past winters, it became a wasteland not because of the destruction but because of how desolate it became. Plants still grew, overtaking all the abandoned towns, cities, and roads, but humans? Gone. Animals? Also gone. Even the critters moved away from the land, leaving it way too silent, with no birds present to sing and no cicadas to chirp when nighttime came.

In their caravan, Bakhi rode at the front with Temuj and Naran, followed close behind by the rest of their riders. None of them spoke much. Not because they feared what may prowl around these lands, though they did, but because of the extra company. They couldn't even use their sign language, as Bakhi warned them that their 'partners' were possibly recording it somehow, working to crack it.

"Kooks..." Temuj muttered, looking back over his shoulder and glancing at the second group.

Six of the seven were clad in their black armor, and by now, they understood that it was fashioned from monster scales. Their skull-like helmets still gave him the shivers, avoiding their glowing, red eyes. What he couldn't understand was how they grew to be this big. Their massive forms towered over them, especially now, mounted on horseback.

The only one who didn't wear his helmet right now, besides their princely oddball, was the so-called Commodore Pion. To Temuj's eyes, his movements were mechanical in precision, and his posture was perfect. And it made his blood run cold more than the design of their armors, because it showed they weren't just soldiers made to look terrifying.

By the fourth day of their travel, the air within the Dead Land had grown eerily heavy. It was... a feeling. A sense of danger that the Khulman scouts had picked up on since the first morning light. Then, there was the first clue after they packed up camp and continued traveling. They came across a ruined watchtower, one that they passed when they were heading to Markoth. Something massive had toppled it since then, as the stones lay cracked in clawed patterns. Bakhi raised a hand, and the column halted at once. Hurriedly, he dismounted and knelt down, studying the marks and the prints in the dirt.

"It was recent," he muttered.

"Damn it..." Temuj spat. "Something hunts here..."

It was then that Pion stepped beside them without a sound despite his size. Similarly, he briefly examined the claw pattern, then straightened and put on his helmet.

"Eyes up."

"..." Bakhi stood slowly, glancing at him, trying to show authority in his stance. "We move around it. This road had become dangerous."

"No," Pion replied simply, his voice now somewhat muffled as he was securing his helmet.

"We move around," Bakhi grunted, frowning. "I don’t care how confident you are in your gear. If something that large is out here, we avoid it."

Pion turned his skull-like helm toward the horizon, continuing to ignore his words. A faint click echoed from inside, an audible hiss, and then his voice became audible again but distorted slightly as it came through his internal comms.

"It is not that large. It is at a size we can take care of without any of our Knights."

"Knights?" Bakhi thought, looking at the rest of his own men. Weren't... these Avalonians... Knights?

But before he could ask it aloud, the wind shifted, and that’s when they heard it.

It was a low, rumbling snarl rolling across the plains. It was not like any bear or prowling cougar. This sound was deeper, more guttural. The moment it was heard, the Khulman horses reared slightly, trembling, causing Bakhi to swallow hard.

"Damn it!" Temuj cursed, knowing it was now too late to run. Their scent had been picked up.

Then, it came over the ridge to their left side.

The creature was the size of an elephant, maybe bigger. Its back was covered in armored plates like jagged slabs of obsidian armor. Its mouth split open in a vertical maw filled with curved, uneven teeth, and along its limbs pulsed dark, glowing veins—as if molten lava ran just under its hide instead of veins. It walked like a predator, similar to a panther’s low gait but with a human's confidence. It had no wings, luckily, but spikes protruded from its spine like bone-made spears. Its eyes were clusters of glowing red orbs, shifting independently, and Bakhi could count about a dozen of them. The bastard probably had a perfect vision, impervious to blindspot attacks.

"Fuck..." Temuj gasped. "We need to spread out and run... it can only chase one of us!"

"No need," Pion said, arms flexing, reaching for his sword's hilt as the rest of the Avalonians dismounted without any hurry. "We already dealt with a similar one. This one is most likely still a newborn, as it's too small."

"Small?!" Bakhi spat, wanting to smack the man in the head. "We move around it. Now!"

"Negative."

Pion didn't wait for an answer and turned, giving a hand signal to the others. Instantly, the Avalonians moved as a unit. Not a single word was spoken between them, at least not in a way the Khulman scouts could hear it. Their massive armored forms spread out in a wide semicircle, their weapons drawn.

Each soldier held a bone-made weapon, be it greatswords, spears, or dual sabers. Then, something happened that made the Khulmans twitch. Unseen to them, the soldiers flexed their muscles as they activated their tattoos; then, the weapons pulsed with elemental energy—fire, lightning, frost, and oozing acid.

The creature growled, lowering its body, prepared to charge the moment it felt the magic coming off from the bones in the Avalonian hands.

"What–!" Bakhi started to shout. "You’re insane! That thing is—"

However, the monster roared and bounded forward, with each footfall shaking the ground as it was already locked in the closest threat.

"..." Pion didn’t move as he watched it close in. "Engage."

The six Avalonians sprang into motion as a unit. To Bakhi's eyes, they weren’t just fast. They were faster.

Their armor didn’t slow them as it should have. Instead, it felt like it amplified their speed. As the creature lunged, one soldier ducked under its swipe and plunged his halberd into its underarm, fire exploding along the blade. Another leaped onto its back, carving a gouge with a lightning-charged sword, sending bolts of energy crackling through its veins.

The creature immediately shrieked, and then its eyes glowed purple. What it was doing was unmistakable, gathering magical energy and coalescing around its maw as a formation began appearing, ready to fire whatever spell it had ready.

"Magic spike detected," Pion commented to the others. "Canceling."

The eyes on his helmet flared like glowing rubies, and the creature’s spell fizzled out with a sickening pop without it having a chance to be activated.

It thrashed in panic, but the soldiers were already on top of it, literally hacking and slashing away with reckless abandon. But only to those who viewed it from afar. In reality, they spoke in clipped, encoded bursts over internal comms. Their formation shifted without flaw—two distracted it, and another disabled its rear leg with a brutal cleave that turned its joint to ash, melting the flesh with acid.

Bakhi could only watch in awe. He didn’t blink his eyes, afraid he would miss something... Neither did Temuj nor Naran.

Only a few minutes later, one final blow landed, ending the struggle. A soldier with a frost-etched glaive vaulted into the air, spinning once before driving the blade into the beast’s skull. The runes on the bone flared, and a crack of ice spread like a spiderweb across its head. The creature staggered, fell, and didn’t rise again; all of its eyes locked into place, wherever they were pointing in their last moment.

The six Avalonians stood around it, weapons humming, armor unmarred. They won... just like that. Quickly... easily.

"Containment is complete," Pion suddenly said, waving a hand. "Collect some blood and check for core... but it was too small to have one. Refill our vials."

Then, as if they were butchers, not soldiers, the group began dismembering and disemboweling the beast with practiced precision. There were no cheers, no celebration, just work.

Bakhi stood frozen. His hands lowered slowly from his chest, mouth hanging open.

"What..." Naran finally whispered, "By the gods..."

"No way they are human..." Temuj murmured, "That was not a fight. That was execution."

"Heh," Lancelot approached from behind them. His voice was casual, but there was a fire behind it. "We didn’t need the Stormbringer. I'm just frustrated that Pion doesn't let me fight beasts like this... Yet. Oh well, one day, Grandpa should tell them I am ready."

"What..." Bakhi turned to him slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. "What... are they?"

Lancelot glanced at Pion and his men, proudly smiling before answering.

"They’re the soldiers of Avalon. Our army is trained not against humans... but beasts."

...

....

......

My study was quiet, save for the rhythmic tick of the pendulum clock on my wall and the occasional rustle of paper as Galahad arranged his diagrams on my desk. I sat back in my chair, my coffee cooling beside me, and watched him with a calm face, something that I didn’t quite feel. It took all my effort not to betray how proud I felt at that moment... But I wanted to take this as seriously as he was taking it. I wanted to reward his work with my full attention. Finally, he laid out the last parchment and stepped back, taking a deep breath.

"I finished it," he said, his voice a bit nervous. "All the revisions. It should be viable now."

"Let's see..." I finally said, hiding a small smile in my cup as I took a sip of my coffee.

Then, I leaned forward and placed my hands on the edge of the desk, careful not to wrinkle the blueprint. The design spread before me was familiar. It was the revised and upgraded plans of what I worked on years ago before forgoing my personal mech for an airship. I knew Galahad was reading all my works... and it seems he was indeed my son. His plans displayed a six-legged mechanical walker, heavy and angular, like a fortress given legs. Its segmented hull was bristling with cannons and deployable plates if it needed more armor. It was versatile and able to be refitted to different situations: Transport, weapons platform, and siege engine. Galahad’s mind had followed my initial plans and managed to finish them.

"Walk me through its movement," I said; my tone measured, but I was just as excited as he was.

"The six legs operate in alternating tripodal sequences," he replied instantly, pointing at the paper. "Three on the ground at all times for stability. Each joint has an embedded gimbal for motion control. Anchor spikes on the forelegs allow it to brace during recoil or on difficult slopes."

He'd anticipated the terrain. Good.

"Weight distribution?" I asked.

"Fifty-six tons unloaded. Seventy at full capacity. The reinforced shoulder joints you noted last time are now included. I made sure not to rely on weight-reducing formations."

I grunted in acknowledgment. I remembered pointing that flaw out in the last draft. He’d not only fixed it—he’d improved on the idea. I could see where he'd redirected structural stress to more stable lines. Good... very good!

"And the cannons?"

"Modular. Configurable for anti-infantry and use flamethrower spells, go for armor with a bigger 'umph' or for long-range bombardment. I’ve started designing a caster-linked version that augments targeting through direct mental feed from the spotters... But I don't know if we really want to use up multiple cores to build them."

I didn’t show it on my face, but internally, I was impressed. And with our current harvest... we can afford it.

"Armor plating?"

"Yes, yes..." He mumbled, switching out the papers in a hurry, "Segmented alloy infused with monster scales and some bone for flexibility and magical resistance. I thought of using it here, too... But we can go with steel, too! But..." He looked at me, unsure of himself for a moment, "I chose layered plates to deflect impact without creating single points of failure."

I folded my hands beneath my chin, studying the diagram. His mind was terrifyingly efficient. There was elegance in the design, something... even better than my usual drafts. Huh. He will be a better designer than I am!

"What about enemy elemental attacks?"

"Panel enchantments, swappable permission. Easier to replace than retrofitting entire sections after elemental saturation... If it gets damaged, that is." Every answer was crisp. No hesitation. He was ready for my questions.

"Hm..."

I stood, walking to the window, not because I needed to, but because I needed a moment. The boy behind me had never once raised his voice, never once begged for attention, and yet here he stood, quietly offering me something extraordinary. Galahad carried a focus that was sharper than mine, cleaner, and unburdened by the increasing responsibilities I had to deal with. Damn... I was jealous of my own son, ahahaha!

"You know this is more than theory now," I said, still looking out at the garden.

"Yes, Father."

"This would require full fabrication protocols. A team. Oversight. You’ll lose control over parts of it. You can't do it all by yourself, and there could be unseen errors cropping up that need to be fixed then and there."

"I’m aware."

I turned back to face him, feeling proud of the conviction in his voice. He met my gaze, steady and proud, and I felt something stir behind my chest. I had seen all my children shine. Arthur and Leyla with their magic, Lancelot with his blade. Morgan... a bit of chaos incarnate, but brilliant in her own way. And now, Galahad, with a mind that never stops working. Finally, unable to hold back my smile, I returned to the desk and placed a hand on the blueprint.

"Then let’s build it." His eyebrows lifted just slightly, his eyes sparkling, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I continued, "It won't be easy," I added. "We’ll bring in two squads of engineers... And you’ll lead the project."

"M-me?" He faltered.

"Yes. You. It is your blueprint."

He opened his mouth again, but then he closed it and nodded, composed. He was finally determined.

"And Galahad," I said.

"Yes, Father?"

"This is good work. I'm proud of you."

"T-thank you..." He blushed, and when I opened my arms, he came in for a hug, letting me rub his head.

"That's my boy..."