Rune’s movements were calm and deliberate, as if he were taking a stroll through a quiet garden. There wasn’t a hint of tension in his stride, and his sole remaining arm held a seven-metre titanium spear angled towards the Iron-scaled Reptile, which was still busy burrowing into the debris before it.

The Iron-scaled Reptile's brownish body was cloaked in a thick layer of pale blue scales. Sensing the faint killing intent in the air, the massive creature suddenly straightened, its crimson eyes locking onto Rune with a menacing glare. Even though Ash was safely inside the cockpit of the mech, a shiver involuntarily ran down his spine.

The Iron-scaled Reptile had already been intimidating enough when it was crouching, but now, as it rose to its full height, it resembled a towering armoured hill, casting an immense shadow over the ground.

Rune stood his ground, utterly unmoved. His unwavering gaze seemed to pierce through the hulking predator as if he were some celestial figure gazing down upon insignificant beings. In comparison, the Iron-scaled Reptile appeared as inconsequential as an ant beneath the heavens.

The predator seemed to sense the looming danger. Its claws dug anxiously into the dirt as it let out a series of guttural growls, unsure whether to attack or retreat.

From within the mech’s cockpit, Ash experienced an entirely different view. Thanks to the advanced integration of Rune’s embedded cameras, every angle of the battlefield was seamlessly stitched together by the onboard AI. It felt as though Ash himself was standing outside in the wasteland.

“What… what even is this?” Ash whispered, his jaw dropping in awe. He had piloted several mechs at the Consciousness Training Centre, enough to consider himself no longer a novice. Yet none of them came close to Rune. Most mechs were clunky, with screens for monitoring blind spots. Rune, however, offered something entirely different—a flawless synthesis of technology and perspective.

For the first time, Ash was struck by the mysterious origins of his mech companion.

Before he could linger on his thoughts, the display abruptly shifted. A three-dimensional hologram of the Iron-scaled Reptile materialised in front of him, spinning slowly. A red light swept across the projection, and an instant later, the hologram was segmented into a grid. A bright red blotch appeared beneath the creature’s chin.

A monotone, synthetic voice echoed in Ash’s ears: “Scan complete. Target acquired.”

Rune moved.

With a graceful leap, the mech rose from the twenty-metre-high junk mound, soaring through the air like a silent bat. Had there been a moonlit sky in the background, one might mistake Rune for a figure of aristocratic elegance, cold and untouchable, exuding an almost predatory allure.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Can mechs… actually have a presence like this?” Ash muttered, unable to reconcile what he was witnessing.

Then, as quickly as the moment arrived, the Iron-scaled Reptile lunged into view, filling Ash’s vision with the intricate, rune-like patterns etched into its scales. His heart seized, his breath caught, and he felt every detail of the scene in excruciating clarity.

To an outside observer, what followed would appear impossible. Rune, who had been mid-air with no visible means of propulsion, suddenly vanished and reappeared mere metres from the Iron-scaled Reptile’s side. It was as though he had bent time and space, defying all natural laws.

Ash’s shock deepened. The Iron-scaled Reptile hesitated, momentarily stunned. Its massive head tilted slightly, and its powerful hind legs began to retreat.

At that precise moment, Rune struck.

The titanium spear in his hand became a streak of silver, its sharp tip cutting through the air with such precision that it left a glowing trail behind it. The sound it made was deafening, a high-pitched whistle that seemed to tear through the very fabric of existence.

“Thud!”

The spear plunged deep into the soft underside of the Iron-scaled Reptile’s chin, exactly at the red-marked spot. The creature froze, its massive brown eyes locked on Rune in disbelief.

Rune retreated, landing twenty metres away in a single fluid motion. He stood there silently, watching.

The Iron-scaled Reptile let out a final, mournful wail that echoed through the wasteland before collapsing. Its life faded from its crimson eyes, leaving behind only an empty, glassy stare. Thick saliva, mingled with blood, dripped from between its gnarled teeth, pooling on the dusty ground.

Ash sat in stunned silence, his mouth agape from the moment Rune had made his first move. This was the first time he truly witnessed Rune’s power, and it was overwhelming. The precision, the elegance—it was as if Rune’s strike had carved itself into his soul.

As the mech’s voice called for him to dismount and begin harvesting the creature, Ash found himself stumbling like a man in a dream, still replaying the scene in his head. The silvery arc of the spear, the deafening whistle, the uncanny speed—it all played over and over.

“Rune,” Ash said, as they began stripping the reptile’s scales, “that strike was incredible. Truly perfect!”

Rune didn’t seem impressed. “Perfect? Far from it. That strike lacked the most important element.”

Ash paused mid-task, puzzled. “What do you mean? What element?”

Rune set down a piece of scale and answered thoughtfully, “Spirit. Call it soul, if you will. My strike was flawless in strength, angle, and timing. But it lacked spirit—something unique to humanity. That’s why I can never achieve true perfection. It’s not in my nature.”

Ash fell silent, absorbing Rune’s words. He had always considered himself competent, perhaps even skilled. But Rune’s performance made him realise how much further he had to go.

Determined, Ash clenched his fists. I’ll catch up. I’ll surpass you someday.

Rune picked up a scale, bending it between his fingers. “Impressive. Its tensile strength is 8.12, with elasticity between 7.0 and 7.2. A material this durable yet flexible is rare.”

Rune tested the scale with a sudden strike, leaving only a faint scratch on its surface. “Good stuff. Let’s collect every last piece of this.”

Ash grinned. “No arguments here. With materials like this, who knows when we’ll get another chance!”

By the time they finished, the Iron-scaled Reptile’s body was stripped clean. They even filled a bottle with its blood for research. Ash, unable to resist his curiosity, hefted one of its legs over his shoulder. As they departed, he looked back wistfully.

“What a waste,” he murmured. “We could’ve eaten for weeks.”