The echoes of battle still lingered in the air as the rebels moved swiftly to secure the abandoned mining site. The Sentinel’s shattered frame lay half-buried in the snow, its glowing runes now dull and lifeless. Around it, the bodies of fallen soldiers and the charred remains of their equipment were scattered like grim reminders of the nobles’ growing reach.
Juri Winkler stood at the edge of the collapsed tunnel, staring at the exposed veins of rare metals and mana-infused crystals glittering in the torchlight. His sharp blue eyes traced the lines of ore embedded in the rock, already calculating how to extract it efficiently and transport it back to the valley.
“We’ve hit the jackpot,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of awe and determination.
Halrick joined him, his sword still resting on his shoulder. “A jackpot that’s going to get us killed if the nobles find out what we’ve uncovered here.”
“They already know,” Juri replied, turning to face him. “That Sentinel wasn’t a coincidence. They’re watching this site. Which means we have to move fast.”
The rebels wasted no time transforming the abandoned mining camp into a defensible outpost. Crates of supplies were hauled from sledges and unpacked, barricades were erected around key positions, and Kira led a team to scout the perimeter for potential weaknesses.
Juri worked in the center of the camp, setting up a makeshift workshop using the equipment scavenged from the destroyed Sentinel and the nobles’ soldiers. The Adaptive Drones scuttled around him, carrying tools and components as he sketched designs on scraps of parchment.
“This site is a goldmine,” Juri said as Kira entered the workshop, her face streaked with dirt and soot. “If we can secure it long enough to extract the resources, we’ll have the materials we need to build stronger machines.”
“And if the nobles hit us before we’re ready?” Kira asked, crossing her arms.
“Then we make it a fight they won’t forget,” Juri replied.
That night, Juri gathered his core team—Halrick, Kira, Garrick, and a few others—in the main building of the mining camp. The air was cold and heavy with tension, the flickering light of the lanterns casting long shadows on their faces.
“We’re not just holding this site,” Juri began, his tone sharp and decisive. “We’re turning it into a trap.”
He unrolled a map of the mining camp, its crude lines marked with defensive positions, fallback routes, and potential ambush zones.
“The nobles will come back,” Juri continued. “It’s only a matter of time. But they’ll expect us to be caught off guard. We’re going to use that against them.”
Halrick leaned over the map, his brow furrowed. “What’s the plan?”
“We’ll rig the perimeter with mines and explosives,” Juri said. “But not just any explosives. I’ve been working on a new type of charge—one that uses mana disruption to overload magical systems. If they bring more Sentinels, we’ll disable them before they can even fire a shot.”
Garrick smirked. “And the soldiers?”
“Ambush tactics,” Juri replied. “We draw them into chokepoints and pick them off before they can regroup. The goal is to keep them off balance.”
Kira studied the map, her dark eyes narrowing. “And what if they bring mages? They’ve been stepping up their magical support lately.”
“That’s why I’m building this,” Juri said, pulling out a schematic for a new machine. It was a compact, turret-like device designed to project a mana-nullifying field, capable of disrupting magical attacks within a limited radius.
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“You’ve been busy,” Kira said, her tone laced with cautious admiration.
“I don’t sleep much,” Juri replied with a faint smirk.
As the rebels prepared for the inevitable assault, tension simmered beneath the surface. The discovery of the resources had bolstered morale, but the constant pressure of fighting an uphill war was beginning to take its toll.
In one corner of the camp, a group of recruits huddled around a fire, their voices low but heated.
“This is suicide,” one man muttered, his face pale in the firelight. “The nobles are going to come down on us like a hammer, and we’re stuck here waiting for it.”
“And what do you suggest?” a woman shot back. “Run? Hide? They’ll hunt us no matter where we go.”
“We’re not soldiers,” the man replied, his voice trembling. “We’re farmers and blacksmiths. We’re not ready for this.”
Garrick overheard the exchange and stepped into the circle, his presence silencing the argument. “No one’s ready for this,” he said, his tone even. “But running won’t save you. The only way we survive is if we fight together.”
The recruits fell silent, their doubts unspoken but still visible in their faces.
Far from the mining camp, Lorian Vehr stood on a windswept ridge, flanked by a column of soldiers and two newly deployed Heavy Sentinels. These machines were larger than their predecessors, their frames reinforced with layers of enchanted plating and their cores protected by complex arrays of runes.
The scouts he had sent to the mining site had not returned, but Lorian had expected as much. The rebels were cunning, their leader resourceful. But Lorian knew that even the sharpest blade could be dulled with enough force.
“Move out,” Lorian commanded, his voice cutting through the cold air.
The column marched toward the mining camp, their torches flickering like a serpent winding through the snow.
The rebels spotted the nobles’ forces before they reached the camp. The lookout on the ridge sounded the alarm, and the rebels scrambled into position, their weapons at the ready.
Juri stood in the center of the camp, his console in hand as he activated the defensive systems. The Adaptive Drones scuttled into position, their sensors glowing faintly as they prepared to intercept the enemy.
Halrick joined him, his sword gleaming in the torchlight. “They’re coming. What’s the plan?”
“Stick to the perimeter,” Juri said. “Let the traps do the heavy lifting. We don’t engage directly unless we have to.”
As the nobles’ forces advanced, the first line of mines detonated, sending plumes of fire and debris into the air. The soldiers faltered, their formation breaking as chaos erupted around them.
The rebels opened fire from the ridges, their Repeaters roaring to life as bullets rained down on the enemy.
The Heavy Sentinels moved to the front, their shields absorbing the onslaught as they advanced steadily toward the camp.
Juri watched the Sentinels’ movements carefully, his sharp blue eyes analyzing their design. These machines were different—stronger, more deliberate, and seemingly immune to the tactics that had worked on their predecessors.
“Focus fire on the legs!” Juri shouted, redirecting the Adaptive Drones to target the joints.
The drones swarmed the nearest Sentinel, their Repeaters firing in rapid bursts. The machine staggered but did not fall, its reinforced legs absorbing the damage.
Juri cursed under his breath. “They’ve upgraded their armor.”
The Sentinel retaliated, its arm-mounted cannon firing a blast of magical energy that obliterated one of the barricades.
Juri adjusted the controls on his console, activating the mana-nullifying turrets he had installed earlier. The devices hummed to life, projecting fields of shimmering energy that disrupted the magic fueling the Sentinels’ cores.
The nearest Sentinel faltered, its movements growing sluggish as its runes dimmed.
“Now!” Juri shouted.
Halrick charged forward, his blade slicing through the exposed joints of the weakened machine. With a final, deafening groan, the Sentinel collapsed, its frame crashing into the snow.
The remaining Sentinel roared, its core flaring with unstable energy as it began charging another attack.
Juri acted quickly, directing one of the Adaptive Drones to detonate its payload near the Sentinel’s core. The explosion destabilized the machine, and Garrick delivered the final shot, piercing its chest with a well-placed round.
When the battle ended, the camp was eerily quiet. The rebels emerged from their positions, their faces etched with exhaustion and relief.
Juri stood over the remains of the second Sentinel, his breath visible in the cold air. His hands were blackened with soot, his coat torn, but his resolve was unshaken.
Halrick clapped him on the shoulder. “Another win. Barely.”
Juri smirked faintly. “Barely’s good enough.”
Kira approached, her expression grim. “We can’t keep doing this. Every battle costs us more than we can afford.”
“I know,” Juri said quietly. He turned to face the glowing veins of ore in the tunnel. “That’s why this has to work. Once we’ve extracted enough, everything changes.”