Chương 236

The construct was surrounded by furious dwarves, completely trapped between the basalt blocks and the advancing engineers. Any beast in its place would have trashed, desperately trying to escape the encirclement, but it didn't possess fear, nor did it have any sense of self-preservation. It operated on a strict adherence to its core directives.

Thus, the machine lifted the cylindrical charge, its metallic limbs whirring as it prepared to slam the explosive against the stone floor to trigger the Silence, even if it meant its own end, since the damage to its chassis would taint its circuitry. Orion felt the magma pressing against his gravitational funnel. The heat radiating from the exposed molten rock threatened to overwhelm his atmospheric centrifuge, demanding his full attention, and he knew he couldn't spare anything to intervene.

"Physical strikes only! If you use mana on it, the charge will detonate!" he shouted over the deafening roar. Pauline reacted before the words finished echoing. She commanded the ambient darkness in the cavern to turn into thick, whip-like tendrils and struck out, wrapping them tightly around the construct's metallic limbs and pinning them to the floor. The machine squealed in protest, its servos whining as it fought the unnatural restraint, but Pauline held it firmly in place with blunt force.

An older dwarven engineer, wielding a sledgehammer, seized the opportunity and swung with all his might, bringing the tool crashing down onto the construct's chassis. Metal buckled and sparked beneath the blow, but the saboteur stubbornly clung to the explosive cylinder, still trying to reach the pipes. Daelin vaulted over a pile of rubble. He drew a simple, unadorned pickaxe from his belt, something seemingly at odds with his real identity, but it proved its worth soon enough.

With a smooth motion, he drove the spike directly into the exposed joint of the machine's main arm, and the limb snapped with a sharp crack, safely dropping the Silence charge to the ground. Another blow from the sledgehammer crushed the optical sensors, allowing more dwarves to get closer without fear of being skewered by its limbs. It took several more hard hits, but the construct finally went still, its internal mechanisms sputtering weakly before dying completely.

With the immediate threat eliminated, Orion refocused on the archway, where the pressure against his gravitational web was reaching a dangerous level. He adjusted the vectors, tightening the funnel to constrict the flow.

"Clear the ring!" he warned, his voice straining under the effort. The engineers quickly backed up, pulling the damaged saboteur unit with them, as Orion released the last restraint. The molten rock surged forward. It hit the gravitational incline and followed the invisible path Orion had laid out, arcing smoothly through the air and plunging directly into the deep containment ring below.

Despite the immense danger, the dwarven craftsmanship was unquestionable, and with a safe outlet for the magma to escape, the groaning pipes above rapidly cooled down, their cherry-red glow fading as the pressure balanced throughout the underground network. It took a few seconds for the flow to steady before Orion felt it was safe to let his hands drop, cutting the mana supply to his spells. He swayed on his feet as exhaustion, both physical and mental, overwhelmed him.

Managing the fluid dynamics while keeping the atmosphere breathable was incredibly demanding, even with his efficient spell-casting. Luckily, Pauline was there, providing a steadying presence by his side. Once he had regained enough strength to stop feeling like he was about to pass out, he turned around and saw Daelin kneeling beside the ruined construct. He carefully picked up the intact Silence charge, inspecting the pale powder swirling inside the cylinder.

He looked up at Orion, his expression a mask of cold anger and a hint of respect.

"They managed to bypass the outer wards entirely with this," he muttered.

"They would have buried the lower levels and crippled our production before the real fight even started."

"If this was all it took, it won't be long before they try again," Orion replied, finally letting go of Pauline's arm and standing on his own two feet.

"We need to show this to your elders." It was clear that the engineers wanted to talk with them, and Orion could already imagine the many questions they would have about the unit and its origin, as they were unlikely to have heard anything down here. Unfortunately for them, time was of the essence. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The ride back up the elevator shaft felt much longer than the descent.

As adrenaline faded, Orion was left with a dull ache in his temples. He drank a potion that Pauline handed him, letting the cool liquid soothe his tired body while Daelin stared intensely at the alchemical explosive in his hands. People stopped and stared at their passage, but soon word filtered through that the situation in the lower levels had been safely handled, which distracted them enough for their group to reach the meeting room. Holy hell, are they still arguing? Daelin didn't wait for acknowledgment.

He headed straight to the table and placed the Silence charge onto the map. The glass cylinder rolled slightly before settling directly over the peaks of the Adamantine Range. The argument ended immediately. Borin stared at the device, the color draining from his face as he recognized the pale powder.

"The thermal vents are clear," Daelin announced, his voice ringing with absolute authority.

"The blockage was not caused by seismic settling, but was deliberate sabotage. We found a mechanical infiltrator hiding in the blockades, armed with this." Although such a report lacked many details, he didn't need to spoon-feed the elders the implications. Some sputtered in shock, but many others brooded quietly as they realized just how close they'd come to a much bigger disaster. Borin looked from the explosive to Daelin, and finally to Orion.

The stubborn pride that had fueled his bluster melted away, replaced by the calculating gaze of a seasoned commander. The dwarves were obstinate, but they were not fools. Faced with irrefutable proof that their internal security had been compromised and their traditional defenses bypassed, the Clanlord's demeanor changed.

"So they were inside the mountain," Borin said quietly. It wasn't a question. He ran a hand over his braided beard, exhaling a long, weary breath.

"If they can slip past our defenses and target our infrastructure, then our current methods are already obsolete." The realization seemed to drain much of his strength, and Orion knew that admitting it publicly only made things worse. Fortunately, even Borin's stubbornness had its limits when his people's safety was at risk. The Clanlord turned to Samael, straightening his posture.

"The First Foundry will accept the alliance. Tell us what we are up against." Samael looked somewhat surprised by the sudden capitulation, but he quickly regained his composure. Orion half-expected him to start explaining, but instead, the older mage motioned toward him.

"Voidwalker here is our primary technical expert for now. He has studied their weaponry extensively and developed the most effective countermeasures." Orion looked around, waiting for anyone to complain about his age, but it seemed his success was enough to quiet any discontent. He then stepped forward, unfurling the decrypted map and placing it beside the sabotaged explosive. The dwarven generals leaned in, their previous hostility replaced by keen, professional interest.

"Their infantry relies on reactive armor," he began, outlining the basics he'd gone over with everyone else.

"The brass plating contains micro-pockets of Silence. When struck by a powerful spell or a heavy projectile, the pockets rupture, releasing a cloud that neutralizes the attack. Your magma projectors are devastating, but they trigger the armor's defenses perfectly. A single, high-impact strike is exactly what they are designed to counter." Borin frowned, but quickly came to the same conclusion as he had.

"Then how do we deal with them?"

"Volume," Orion answered simply.

"We have learned that overwhelming their sensors is the best strategy. I developed a doctrine called the Barrage, which was used during our last battle in the Ironwoods with great success. Instead of firing a powerful projectile, we use continuous, low-tier attacks. The armor cannot handle the sheer number of simultaneous impacts. The brass shreds before the Silence can properly ignite, wasting its contents and allowing successive attacks to punch through."

Daelin seemed to be the first to understand the concept and immediately started sketching something down.

"Our current turrets are built for single-release. They draw magma from deep reserves and compress it to maximize damage, but if we need more volume, we have to bypass the compression chambers entirely."

"Exactly," Orion said, moving to stand beside the young heir.

"The amount of damage needed to punch through in one blow exceeds that of a standard tier three spell, and I do not need to tell you how difficult it is to reliably cast those. If you could alter the projection arrays to fire smaller fragments at a higher velocity, you could replicate the Barrage effect throughout the Forgelands." That alone would immediately change the calculus.

Of course, the dwarves would still need time to adjust their methods, and against stronger machines like the Dreanoughts, only the brute force of a tier four was reliably an answer, but it would even out the field. An elder joined them, examining Daelin's sketch closely.

"We can easily adjust the feed lines. If we swap the extra fire runes for acceleration matrices, we can use the slag byproducts from the foundries as ammunition. It won't hit as hard, but it will fire ten times faster."

"You will also need to rethink the targeting parameters," Orion added, tapping the paper.

"The enemy golems are networked, and that only worsens when larger constructs are nearby. They share visual data. If you could add a flash-pulse to the firing sequence, it would scramble their optical sensors while the slag strips their armor." For the next hour, the war room shifted from a political battleground to a collaborative workshop. Orion found himself truly enjoying the process.

The dwarves were master craftsmen; they understood the physics of acceleration, pressure, and material stress naturally, even if not in the same words he did. They just needed a new direction to focus their expertise on. Together, they drafted a theoretical refit for the outer wall defenses. It was a prototype for now, but implementation would require only some testing, since the weapons were already made and needed just refitting, not forging.

Borin observed the proceedings with quiet approval and, once they had something concrete, sent runners to the foundries to start construction immediately. The atmosphere in the room was productive, almost optimistic, as they finalized the schematics. They had a plan. Then, a deep vibration echoed through the stone floor. The sound was more felt than heard. The engineers froze mid-sentence. Borin's head snapped up, his eyes wide.

"The Anvil of the Deep," Daelin whispered, the color draining from his face. Orion watched as part of the wall near the Clanlord's seat slid open, revealing a sophisticated pneumatic tube system made of polished bronze. [Hypotheticism] struggled to interpret the data, but he could tell that this was a network that used the seismic activity of the mountain range to send physical messages across vast underground distances. A leather-bound cylinder fell into a waiting receptacle with a solid thud.

Borin stepped forward and retrieved the cylinder. Despite how pale he looked, his hands remained remarkably steady as he cracked the wax seal and withdrew a thick sheet of vellum. He read the message silently, his expression turning into a mask of pure stone. He looked up, meeting Orion's gaze.

"The warning comes from the west," Borin announced, his voice carrying a grim finality.

"Our coastal outposts have gone dark. The Iron State has secured a beachhead on the shores, and they are unloading an armada."