Check out my new translation!
=====
"The engine's started. How is it, old man—are you getting any feedback over there?" Grace activated the engine using the battery and called out to Gotthardt.
A low buzz came from the ether-hybrid engine as the pistons began cycling up and down, starting to output power.
The old veteran closed the sarcophagus, and the familiar HUD appeared before his eyes. The iron giant known as the Leviathan Siege Dreadnought began to awaken, initiating its system diagnostics. The check ended quickly, revealing only damage to both arms; the walking mechanisms in both legs were intact.
"System diagnostics show no issues with the power system. The energy output isn't far off from the previous power reactor." Gotthardt sounded genuinely surprised. "Replacing a power furnace in just a few days… O Emperor."
Hearing that, Grace exhaled deeply, grabbed her can of Fuel Drink, and downed the whole thing in one go.
"Looks like my calculations were right. Three engines are enough to match the broken nuclear power reactor." Grace walked to the temporary table and chairs and collapsed onto the chair. She had been working nonstop these past few days—taking care of those three adorable kids while also helping the old man design and install the entire power system. She had almost no time to rest, relying entirely on Fuel Drinks and sheer willpower. Now that everything succeeded, her body finally relaxed, and a tide of overwhelming exhaustion washed over her.
Grace stretched, yawned, but it still wasn't time to rest. There was a little work left. The Steel Witch pressed her Jingming acupoint—something she learned from the massage shop owner Duyi in Lumina Square. Of course, as far as Grace was concerned, the robot's internal construction was far more interesting than his massage techniques.
The computer in front of her displayed the engine's operational data. So far, the three engines were maintaining good output, and all energy lines were running smoothly. But analyzing static data meant little; a live trial run was necessary to confirm whether the engines could truly sustain the iron giant's full mobility.
The Steel Witch yawned again, rubbed her reddened eyes, then stood up. "The warehouse may be cramped, but there's still enough room for a few steps. Gotthardt, can you try moving? I need to observe the engine's load behavior."
The Dreadnought's head monitor rotated toward her, magnifying Grace's face. The old veteran watched the woman—looking so ditzy and ready to fall asleep at any moment—and felt a twinge of concern. She had been visiting him whenever she had a spare moment these days, not only repairing equipment but also bringing him food and drinks, always finding ways to chat so he wouldn't feel bored.
"Are you sure you don't need to rest first?" Gotthardt's voice echoed through the vox-array, mechanical and resonant. "Compared to the test run, I think you need rest far more."
"Thank you for your concern, but I'm more worried about the engines." Grace yawned again, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "It's fine. Once the test is done, I can sleep. Then I'll use the data to make the final adjustments."
"Well, all right." Gotthardt relented when he saw her insist. "But you must promise me that once we finish the test run, you go rest immediately."
"All right, all right. I get it. Old man, you nag just like the little ones when it comes to this. I know my limits." Grace shut her eyes hard, then opened them again. "Let's try moving."
To prepare for the trial run, Grace had spent the afternoon directing Bangboos to clear out a section of the warehouse. This place was originally a Belobog Heavy Industries storage facility for mechanical parts and semi-finished components—plenty spacious. Clearing half still left dozens of meters for the Dreadnought to move.
The overhead crane at the warehouse ceiling released its claws, loosening the steel cables securing the Dreadnought. A waiting Bangboo immediately detached them.
Even though it was only a drop of twenty centimeters, the massive weight of the Leviathan Dreadnought sent a powerful tremor through the ground, nearly shaking the Bangboo clinging to its shoulder right off.
Standing again on its own two feet, Gotthardt felt the sensation was excellent.
"Standing is no issue. Should I try walking next?" he asked as he began to rotate the torso.
"Mm. Of course." Grace kept her eyes fixed on the data. "Watch the floor cables—don't step on them."
The bright yellow iron giant lifted one foot. The waist actuators surged, and the machine smoothly pivoted. Grace found herself extremely curious about the material used in its leg mechanisms—how it could support such a massive frame performing movements that should've been impossible. Under normal circumstances, that much weight simply should not allow lifting one leg and twisting the waist simultaneously.
That was why Belobog Heavy Industries used quadrupedal frames for their industrial automatons: more stability, better weight distribution, and the ability to navigate complex terrain where tracked locomotion struggled.
Engine output climbed on the display, but remained well within the safety margin—exactly as her models predicted.
"I'm going to try taking a few steps," Gotthardt announced, lifting a leg and slowly moving forward.
Without the balancing assistance of both mechanical arms, the bread-shaped mech wobbled clumsily as it walked, even stumbling slightly. But that was better for data collection—it revealed engine output fluctuations under abnormal load conditions.
"Nearly falling over is a terrible feeling," Gotthardt muttered. "If I really topple, I'm not sure I can get back up."
"Don't worry, I'll have a few cranes lift you again." Grace didn't even raise her head, absorbed in the readings. "Wait—that stumble wasn't intentional? I thought that was part of a test sequence. But according to the data, the power system still has enough redundancy to handle these sudden movements."
"These old bones can't handle a fall." Gotthardt rotated the chassis back around. "I noticed you connected the fuel tanks to those four heavy flamers. You even filled the compressed-gas tanks. Planning to test the weapons?"
Grace immediately cut him off with a raised hand. "Not today. It was just convenient. I figured that if we run into an Ethereal attack later, having proper weapon systems would be better than engineering arms. Though using a seismic drill or a heavy breach-saw as weapons wouldn't be impossible."
"Understood. Weapons testing can wait. Next, I'd like to try running—should be fine, yes?" Gotthardt rotated again—this time turning the upper torso first, then the lower segment. This movement placed far less demand on the engines.
"Wait, did you say run?" Grace looked utterly baffled. This mech—this shape—could really run?
Of course, Gotthardt noticed her disbelief. Many mortal soldiers had worn that same expression when they saw him sprint with unexpected agility, seize a traitor with his Siege Claw, and crush them. Even battle-brothers who had watched him zigzag while dodging tank shells and then tearing open a tank's main armor had stared as if seeing a ghost.
A Dreadnought was far more agile than its bulk suggested, capable of performing maneuvers that made no logical sense. While the Leviathan class was known for immense firepower and heavy projection shields, that didn't mean they couldn't perform surprising movements.
Even without arms, it staggered slightly as it ran, but the bread-shaped iron giant still managed several steps before abruptly braking, stabilizing, and sprinting back.
Grace stared in shock. She was now intensely curious about the exact leg-mechanism design—how it endured such abuse. Leviathans were notoriously top-heavy, with their center of gravity high and forward. Moves like this were a hellish test of structural strength and flexibility.
The Steel Witch quickly refocused on the monitor. Engine-group data streamed across the screen. All three engines were functioning well. The vibrations were stronger than expected but acceptable. Heat output stayed within projection, and the Dreadnought's cooling system could handle the load.
The massive iron beast frolicked around the warehouse for quite some time, its thunderous footsteps shaking dust from the rafters. The Bangboos clinging to it suffered the worst of it. They felt like they were trapped inside a typhoon wall—almost no shock absorption on this steel giant, and the combination of sprinting and sudden turns nearly threw them off several times.
Watching the Dreadnought constantly run back and forth, Grace hurriedly pulled up her earlier calculations. Yes—just as expected. The remaining surplus power could easily support two additional mechanical arms. Even equipping both sides with the 1.4-ton industrial breach-saws used by Greta would be no problem. The potential assistance this machine could offer in future construction efforts was nearly immeasurable.
"This running posture! This powerful locomotion system!" Grace's face flushed bright red with excitement. "Old man, you must let me study this mech's leg structure!"
Seeing her sudden shift in expression, Gotthardt stopped instantly. This version of Grace was dangerous—once she entered that excited research mode, nothing could stop her. He had experienced it recently during the engine installation: no amount of advice or concern could dissuade her from continuing, regardless of her physical condition.
"I say—according to our agreement, you go rest now." The old veteran turned the Dreadnought's head toward her. "As for the leg structure, you'll have plenty of time to research it later."
"That's wonderful! I need to upload this data right away, then proceed with the next step of repairs! The rear armor plates need sealing, then I must test the internal frame's anti-vibration performance and heat dissipation!" Grace said as she began typing rapidly on the keyboard.
"It is time to rest, Miss Grace!" the vox-array nearly roared, but even that couldn't stop her work frenzy.
Gotthardt sorely missed his mechanical arms—legs alone couldn't force the Steel Witch into resting. All he could do was send Koleda a KnockKnock message and wait for the president to come handle her older sister.