When Brass Horizon City was first besieged by the bone-wraiths, Arthur had led three hundred soldiers on a desperate sortie to lure the mechanical behemoths away from the gates.
In the chaos, the original City Lord—a man of noble blood but a coward's heart—had abandoned his post, fleeing with his family and treasury. If not for the young man currently sitting in the City Lord's chair, the city would have already been reduced to a graveyard of scrap metal and bone.
"We must Guard," the young man said softly, his voice carrying an iron weight.
"Guard?" Ben's expression shifted, his heavy steam-armor hissing as he shifted his weight. "Sir, the city is vast. If those monsters keep attacking, my soldiers will break. We are already running on fumes."
Ben looked at his diagnostic display. Of the 1,500 soldiers originally stationed in Brass Horizon City, Arthur had taken 300. Now, fewer than 1,000 remained, and half of them were nursing leaking hydraulics or poisoned wounds.
"The monsters are relentless," Ben continued. "Their obsidian claws penetrate our steam-plates, and their tails carry a necrotic venom that melts flesh. It takes five of my men just to bring one of those ghouls down."
"Then we tell the people the truth," the young man replied, his eyes flickering with a cold resolve. "Tell them the monsters are rampant. Tell them the City Lord has abandoned them. Tell them that every surrounding settlement has been slaughtered. If they want to live to see the dawn, they must pick up a wrench, a blade, or a pipe and fight."
Ben hesitated. "Sir? If we release that news, the city will fall into chaos. Despair could turn the streets into a purgatory before the monsters even breach the walls."
"Trust me," the man said firmly. "In the heart of despair, we will find the fire."
Ben followed the orders. When the notice was posted in the central plaza, a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the gathered citizens.
"It's over," a woman whispered, clutching her child. "The surrounding cities are gone. We're next."
"I fled the Iron-Graft outskirts to find safety here," an old man muttered. "I didn't expect to find a tomb."
Ben watched from the edge of the crowd, his hand on his hilt, fearing the riot that usually follows such news. But then, a voice cut through the murmurs—sharp and filled with a strange, scholarly steel.
"Are we just going to wait for them to process us into bone-meal?" A young man stepped forward from the crowd. "If the soldiers can kill them, so can we! If it takes five soldiers to kill a ghoul, then ten of us will swarm one! Think of your families! Do you have no guts left?"
"He's right!" a bearded butcher roared, slamming a massive cleaver into a wooden post. "The armory has been opened by the commander! If you have the courage to bleed, come and take a blade from me!"
"Kill the monsters!" a voice screamed.
"Defend the Horizon!"
The crowd erupted, not in a riot of fear, but in a frenzy of survival. Ben watched the young scholar who had started the chant and realized he was one of the young man's secret plants in the crowd.
'A scholar's brain is indeed more dangerous than a steam-piston,' Ben thought, sighing in relief.
Outside the city walls, Julian stood amidst the wreckage. The ground was scorched by mana-blasts, and the mechanical husks of bone-wraiths were piled high against the stone.
"Who goes there?!" a shout rang out from the battlements.
Julian looked up at the soldiers peering over the edge. "I am a traveler from beyond the heavens. I wish to speak with the City Lord."
"The Lord ran away days ago!" a soldier shouted back. "You look like a scholar in those strange clothes. We're not opening the gates, but I'll drop a ladder for you. Climb up if you want to die inside a wall instead of outside it."
Julian didn't wait for the ladder. He circulated his Nova Sovereign Technique, feeling the golden pure qi surge into his limbs. With a light tap of his foot, he blurred upward.
He didn't fly—he wasn't at the Ascendant Realm yet—but his leap carried him two meters high. He tapped the vertical stone with his toe, using the momentum to vault over the parapet and land silently on the walkway.
A dozen soldiers instantly surrounded him, their steam-spears leveled at his chest. The leader, a scarred veteran, sized Julian up.
Seeing no bone-armor or necrotic energy, he signaled his men to stand down.
"Sorry, traveler. You don't look like a normal civilian," the veteran said, his voice raspy.
"I'm not," Julian said, nodding toward the city. "Who is in charge now? Take me to them. Tell them I have a way to save Brass Horizon City from the coming collapse."
The veteran's eyes widened with a sliver of hope. "Save us? Truly? Did the other cities send reinforcements?"