Sergio let out a quiet breath and nodded slowly. “That’s true. This needs careful discussion. The Saints never actively target the heirs of the Five Great Families—but if we make the first move, they won’t hesitate to strike back.”
Terrence and Nigel both nodded in agreent.
Lilith watched Sergio thoughtfully. Among these young nobles, he was clearly the most level-headed. The others were used to following his lead.
Axel noticed it too. If he kept pushing, Sergio would only grow more wary. So Axel chose restraint.
He really is sharp, Lilith thought, standing beside him with a faint, knowing smile.
“The team’s finalized,” Sergio said, visibly relieved that Axel hadn’t forced the issue. “Let’s go see the craftsman.”
Dealing with the Saints wasn’t so reckless adventure. Terrence and the others might rush headlong into danger—but Sergio wouldn’t.
“The craftsman?” Lilith asked curiously. “You an Isidore, president of the Krythos Manufacturing Guild? I heard he doesn’t get along with Mr. Instrunt King.”
“It’s more a difference in philosophy,” Sergio replied. “He understands puppet formations better than anyone else here. Before challenging Instrunt King, it’s best to consult him.”
Lilith glanced at the others. Their casual expressions said it all.
Scions of great families… really are different, she thought, falling silent.
“Everything’s already arranged,” Terrence said impatiently. “Let’s move.”
Terrence and Nigel bolted ahead. Sergio lingered at the rear, watching Axel’s back as he walked away. His expression was complicated, his thoughts unreadable.
.....
At the headquarters of the Krythos Manufacturing Guild, a thin, elderly man in a yellow-and-white striped work uniform stood respectfully before a robot barely a ter tall.
This old man was Isidore.
Every piece of standard equipnt used by Krythos soldiers—and even the weapon systems mounted on the city walls—had been designed or refined by him. He was a Level Seven Divine Might Awakener, but more importantly, he had once received direct instruction from Mr. Instrunt King himself. Even the head of the city’s technical division treated him with deference.
“Sir,” Isidore said carefully, “you want to place the puppet formation’s armor here for testing? I thought it was reserved exclusively for challengers.”
The robot’s movents were stiff, clearly nothing more than a standard transport unit. Yet it lounged there casually, emitting a cold electronic voice.
“Those challengers are garbage. Their data’s worthless. Didn’t you also copy my designs and churn out a pile of industrial junk? Test your scraps properly—and rember to send the data.”
Isidore smiled awkwardly. In the entire world, only the being before him would dare call his creations junk.
“Understood,” Isidore said. “But… the puppet formation itself must be nothing more than a toy to you. You’ve been researching it for over a year now, haven’t you?”
The robot stood abruptly. “I like it. That’s reason enough. Stop asking stupid questions.”
Isidore straightened imdiately. “Mr. Instrunt King, this is a critical ti for Krythos. If you were willing to guide us under the joint authority of the Science and Technology Departnt and the Manufacturing Association, it would be an enormous benefit. Couldn’t you—just set the puppet formation aside for now?”
The robot snorted. “Talking to you is like lecturing livestock. What would that accomplish? If you can build a machine that defeats the puppet formation using materials of equal value, then maybe I’ll consider it.”
Isidore gave a bitter smile.
Defeating the puppet formation itself wasn’t difficult. Any chanical puppet personally crafted by Mr. Instrunt King could dismantle it effortlessly. The terrifying thing wasn’t its strength—it was its absurdly low production cost.
To beat it using materials of the sa price point… Isidore would need to advance to Level Nine.
“Then,” Isidore ventured cautiously, “if an Awakened defeats the puppet formation and provides you with sufficient data… wouldn’t that also et your requirents?”
The robot’s lips curled into a grin. “There aren’t many who can actually fight, so I agreed—reluctantly. Oh, right. I’ve already delivered the puppet. Make sure your people learn how to operate it properly. I don’t want idiots getting themselves killed.”
With that, the red light in the robot’s eyes dimd. The electronic voice vanished. After circling aimlessly for a mont, it returned to its task of transporting cargo.
Isidore watched the now-empty shell and sighed quietly. “Mr. Instrunt King’s thods are always… awe-inspiring. What a pity.”
At that mont, a handso young man entered the room, smiling politely as he bowed.
“Master Craftsman,” he said, “my na is Kason. I’m Mr. Instrunt King’s disciple. I’m here to brief you on the precautions for using the puppet formation.”
Most Awakeners of the Goldleaf family were chanics by trade. Years ago, Kason and Kenneth had shown comparable talent—but Kenneth had been rejected due to his unstable ntal state.
“The puppet soldier has been placed in an open section of the factory,” Kason continued. “It’s currently undergoing testing and maintenance. There’s only one rule—do not activate it casually.”
“Once activated, it must be shut down within three minutes,” he added calmly. “Otherwise, it will indiscriminately attack any perceived threats in the vicinity.”
Isidore nodded. He’d already reviewed the schematics, but sothing still nagged at him. With Mr. Instrunt King’s abilities, creating a sophisticated threat-recognition system would’ve been trivial. So why impose such a crude restriction?
“I’ve already instructed your engineers accordingly,” Kason said, his tone carrying quiet arrogance. “You can rest easy.”
Though only a Level Five Awakener, years spent under Mr. Instrunt King’s tutelage had given Kason an unmistakable air of confidence—and superiority.
“Sergio and the others are here?”
At that mont, a screen beside Isidore flickered to life, displaying live footage of visitors outside the factory periter.
“Ignacio, go greet them,” Isidore said calmly. “They’re important guests.”
A man in a hard hat, a cigarette dangling from his lips, heard the order through his earpiece. He imdiately stubbed out the cigarette and straightened up.
“I’m heading to the gate,” he shouted to his coworkers. “Once you finish setting up the equipnt, shut everything down properly.”
They were in the middle of unloading six pitch-black puppet soldiers—each nearly three ters tall—from a massive tal container. The other two engineers waved lazily without much concern.
“Got it, go ahead,” one of them said. “Anyone Mr. Isidore personally receives has to be a VIP.”
Ignacio jogged off. Behind him, the two engineers watched with envy as they continued adjusting the puppets.
“Mr. Isidore’s really trusting Ignacio with everything lately,” one muttered. “When the hell is it our turn?”
“You tell ,” the other replied with a shrug.
They kept chatting, completely oblivious to the faint red numbers glowing in the electronic eyes of the puppet soldiers.
A countdown.
.......
“Everyone, please follow .”
Ignacio led Sergio and the others with obvious respect.
“Thank you for the trouble,” Sergio said with a polite smile as they boarded the shuttle vehicle.
The industrial park was enormous—and eerily empty. Automated engineering vehicles and robots moved along the roads, carrying out production with chanical precision. Human workers were almost nowhere to be seen.
“The production zone is up ahead, R&D is behind us,” Ignacio explained enthusiastically. “We’ll also pass through the weapons testing grounds. If you’re interested, feel free to take a look.”
The shuttle rolled past the factories and into a vast, desolate expanse.
The ground here was cratered and scorched, pitted with holes of every size. The soil was a burnt yellow, as if it had been bombarded countless tis. The area was at least four football fields wide, littered with unfinished machines and half-assembled weapons.
“Beep. Beep. Beep.”
Axel’s ears twitched.
He frowned. Even though he wasn’t a chanic, he knew that rapid beeping like that usually ant one thing.
Warning.
“Guests are here,” Ignacio waved toward two engineers adjusting equipnt nearby.
The two straightened up, ready to greet them—but the beeping grew faster. Sharper.
“What’s that sound?” Axel asked.
Before anyone could answer—
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