The snow-covered battlefield was eerily quiet after the nobles’ retreat. Smoke rose in thin tendrils from the shattered remains of the Sentinels, mingling with the acrid smell of burnt metal and mana residue. The rebels moved methodically through the wreckage, salvaging what they could from the ruined machines and burying their own fallen.
Juri Winkler stood in the center of the mining camp, his coat singed and his gloves blackened with soot. His sharp blue eyes scanned the broken remains of a Sentinel, already calculating how its parts could be repurposed. Victory had been won, but the cost was undeniable: several barricades destroyed, four rebels dead, and morale hanging by a thread.
“They’ll be back,” Juri muttered to himself, his mind already racing ahead.
Halrick approached, his sword resting on his shoulder. “Another close call. You’ve got a knack for those.”
Juri smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We survived. That’s what matters.”
“For now,” Halrick said, glancing at the wreckage. “But we can’t keep doing this, Juri. They’re not going to stop coming, and sooner or later, we’re going to run out of luck.”
“Which is why we have to change the game,” Juri replied, his tone sharp. He gestured toward the tunnels. “Those resources are our chance to do just that.”
Inside the mine, the rebels worked tirelessly to extract the rare metals and mana-infused crystals buried in the rock. The glowing veins cast eerie shadows on the walls, bathing the workers in a soft, otherworldly light.
Juri oversaw the operation, his hands stained with grease and dirt as he coordinated the use of Adaptive Drones to assist with the extraction. The machines carried heavy loads of ore and crystals, their spindly legs moving with mechanical precision.
“This will do,” Juri murmured, running his fingers over a chunk of raw ore. “It’s strong enough to withstand direct hits, and its conductivity will make it perfect for integrating new systems.”
Kira approached, wiping sweat from her brow. “You’ve got enough material here to build an army. But what good is an army if we can’t hold the line long enough to use it?”
“We’re not building an army,” Juri said, his tone clipped. “We’re building weapons that make armies obsolete.”
Kira folded her arms. “Big words, Winkler. Let’s hope you can back them up.”
Back in the workshop, Juri laid out the materials on a long wooden table. The rare metals gleamed in the lantern light, their surfaces smooth and cool to the touch. Beside them, the mana crystals pulsed faintly, their energy humming in the air.
“This is it,” Juri said, his voice quiet but filled with conviction. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
Halrick and Garrick stood nearby, their expressions skeptical but intrigued.
“So, what’s the plan?” Halrick asked, leaning against the wall. “You’ve got the materials. Now what?”
Juri smirked, rolling out a blueprint that depicted a new design: a towering mech equipped with modular weaponry, reinforced armor, and a mana-powered core.
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“We build this,” Juri said. “The Dominion-class Mech. It’ll be fast, powerful, and resistant to the nobles’ suppression fields. And it won’t just defend the camp—it’ll take the fight to them.”
Garrick raised an eyebrow. “How long will it take?”
“That depends,” Juri replied. “The faster we work, the sooner we’re ready.”
The rebels threw themselves into the project with a renewed sense of purpose. Juri divided the camp into specialized teams: one group focused on assembling the mech’s frame, another worked on integrating the mana crystal into its core, and a third handled the development of its weapons systems.
The workshop became a hive of activity, its walls echoing with the sounds of hammers, drills, and the hum of mana-powered tools.
Juri worked alongside the others, his hands constantly in motion as he welded plates of reinforced metal to the mech’s chassis. Halrick and Garrick hauled supplies, while Kira oversaw the delicate task of calibrating the mana core.
“This thing’s going to change everything,” Halrick said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“If it works,” Garrick added.
“It’ll work,” Juri said without looking up. “Failure isn’t an option.”
As the days turned into nights, the camp’s atmosphere began to shift. The rebels, once weighed down by doubt and fear, found themselves energized by the project. The sight of the mech slowly taking shape in the workshop became a symbol of hope—a tangible reminder that they were fighting for something greater.
But the pressure was immense.
Juri pushed himself to his limits, often working through the night without sleep. His sharp blue eyes were rimmed with red, his movements fueled more by determination than energy.
Kira noticed the strain and confronted him one evening as he adjusted the mech’s core housing.
“You’re going to burn out,” she said, her tone firm.
Juri didn’t look up. “I don’t have time to burn out.”
“You’re no good to us dead, Winkler,” Kira said. “Take a break before you collapse.”
Juri sighed, setting down his tools. “I’ll rest when it’s finished.”
“No,” Kira said, grabbing his arm. “You’ll rest now. That’s an order.”
For a moment, Juri considered arguing, but the exhaustion in his body betrayed him. Reluctantly, he nodded.
Far from the mining camp, Lorian Vehr stood in the grand hall of House Vorell, his cold gray eyes fixed on a map spread out before him.
“The rebels are entrenched,” he said, his voice calm but laced with frustration. “They’ve turned that mining site into a fortress.”
Lady Alarice Vorell sat at the head of the table, her green eyes narrowing. “And yet you’ve failed to dislodge them.”
Lorian clenched his jaw. “Their leader is resourceful. He’s managed to adapt to every move we’ve made. But I have a plan.”
“Another plan,” Alarice said coldly. “I hope it’s better than the last one.”
Lorian’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “It is. We’ll deploy a new weapon—a mana siphon device capable of draining the energy from their machines and weapons. Once they’re defenseless, we’ll crush them.”
Alarice nodded slowly. “Make it happen.”
Back at the camp, the Dominion-class Mech was nearing completion. Its towering frame gleamed under the lantern light, its joints reinforced with the rare metals extracted from the mine. The mana core pulsed steadily, its energy humming through the mech’s systems.
Juri stood before the machine, his chest swelling with a mix of pride and anticipation. This was more than just a weapon—it was a symbol of defiance, a testament to what the rebels could achieve.
“It’s beautiful,” Halrick said, staring up at the mech.
“It’s just the beginning,” Juri replied.
The rebels gathered as Juri climbed into the cockpit of the mech. The controls felt natural beneath his hands, each movement responding with smooth precision. He activated the mana core, and the machine roared to life, its limbs moving with an almost predatory grace.
Juri guided the mech out of the workshop, its massive frame towering over the camp. The rebels watched in awe as it took its first steps, the ground trembling beneath its weight.
Kira smirked. “Looks like it works.”
Juri’s voice crackled through the external speakers. “It’s more than that. It’s a game changer.”
The rebels cheered, their voices echoing through the valley. For the first time in weeks, hope burned brightly in their hearts.