Chương 232

Summoning his broom, Orion lifted off the ground, feeling only slightly remorseful that he had to leave the Dreadnought behind without being able to examine it thoroughly. The others followed suit, using their various flight methods to rise through the dense canopy. Breaking through the upper layer of leaves was like breaching the surface of a murky lake, and soon enough, the humid air of the deep forest gave way to the biting chill of the mountain winds.

The sky above was a pale, unbroken grey, offering a clear view of the peaks rising to the south, though unlike the previous path, they tilted more to the west this time. As they formed a flying wedge and sped toward the dwarven territory, Orion's mind raced, trying to plan their next moves based on what they would find when they arrived. Could an assault force have bypassed the Sanctum's entire sensory network to reach the Adamantine Forge?

The Silvermount range was heavily monitored, and any large-scale troop movement through the main passes would have set off dozens of alarms long before reaching its foothills. But that doesn't mean they can't. The Silence gives them cover, and while we are improving at filtering out its noise, I've seen firsthand that more mobile units can break through. Still, he wasn't convinced.

It was one thing for the Iron State to move undetected through the forest, where the ambient mana and natural environment provided great cover, but it was a different matter to cut through the mountains and reach the Adamantine Forge. Looking westward, past the sprawling peaks toward the distant, hazy line where the continent met the ocean, an idea came to mind about how they could have. If they approached it from the sea, then it's a completely different situation.

We certainly weren't able to detect their approach to our shores, and as far as I know, almost no effort has been made to expand our network there. It was the only explanation that fit the data. He knew the Iron State had naval vessels equipped with the same anti-magic plating as their land fortresses, since they could directly sail to the Ironwood coast.

From there, they could march specialized units up the less hospitable western ridges, bypassing the Silverpeak mountains entirely until they reached the dwarven flank. He had no proof, of course, but given the enemy's actions so far, that was the most logical course of action, and they'd proven very skilled at following such a plan.

"We need to pick up our pace," Orion called out, raising his voice to be heard over the rushing wind.

"If they took the coast road, they might have a significant head start and be there by now." Samael gestured with his hand, generating a slipstream of warm air that decreased drag and increased their speed. Soon enough, the smaller peaks of the western mountain range came into view, their dark basalt slopes standing out against the taller, snow-covered mountains to the east. An hour later, the sharp smell of sulfur reached them, and for once, he knew it wasn't coming from the still-burning frontlines.

Orion adjusted his glasses, peering through the high-altitude haze, and noticed a plume of dark, unnatural smoke rising from the side of a sheer cliff face. They were too late. As they drew closer, the grand architecture of the Adamantine Forge's northernmost fortress appeared before them. The dwarven stronghold was carved directly into the mountain, with towering stone doors that stood easily two hundred feet tall and were etched with intricate runic arrays, dominating the cliff.

Unfortunately, the majestic view was spoiled by the chaos of an active siege. Unlike the heavy, treaded Dreadnought they had just fought, the enemy had brought half a dozen fast, multi-legged walkers that clung to the steep rock face. They looked like iron spiders, with mechanical limbs ending in pitons that they drove deep into the stone, somehow allowing them to move in three dimensions.

Although they weren't as intimidating as their heavier counterparts, it was clear they shouldn't be underestimated, especially since the attack had been going on for nearly an hour, at least, and not a single one had sustained more than superficial damage. On the battlements above the doors, heavily armored dwarves hurried about. They commanded large stone golems to hurl boulders down the cliff, while others operated heavy projectors that shot streams of molten rock.

It was a formidable defense, built on centuries of traditional engineering that had endured attacks from the mighty beasts of the range and other factions. But Orion could see right away that it was failing. The spider-walkers easily avoided the falling debris, moving with unnatural agility on the vertical surfaces. Whenever a stream of magma threatened to engulf them, the walkers would leap above it and latch onto another rock, immediately retaliating by firing rapid volleys of darts from their dorsal turrets.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. As the rounds hit the stone golems and the battlements, they shattered, releasing bursts of Silence. Upon contact with the damnable substance, the glowing runes anchoring the dwarven golems sputtered and died. Without the magic holding them together, the massive stone defenders simply lost power, and while that might have been manageable on a more forgiving battlefield, here they often ended up tumbling down the cliffside.

The magma projectors, on the other hand, malfunctioned as their internal enchantments broke down, and the molten rock cooled into brittle slag inside the barrels, rendering them unusable for any meaningful period. It was clear from the first glance that, while the dwarves fought with great skill, the enemy outclassed them. Orion could see how they were frantically pouring more mana into their failing arrays, completely misunderstanding the nature of the weapon being used against them.

What the hell has their representative to the High Council been up to?!

"They don't know how to fight the Silence," he shouted, signaling the team to stop their descent just above the engagement zone.

"They are going to lose soon." Samael appeared to agree, raising a hand ready to unleash fire on the walkers, but Orion stopped him.

"Their armor will scatter a direct hit," he warned rapidly.

"And we can't risk detonating their payloads against the cliff; the Silence will eat the gates, giving any reserve they have a chance to break through. We need to target their mobility if we want a chance to end this without it turning into a mess." The Collegium's mages seemed a bit confused about why he was giving them orders, considering he was by far the most junior of the group.

However, since neither Pauline nor Samael was disputing his words, and the specter of his father loomed over him, they obeyed once they realized his advice was actually quite sound. With the new plan in mind, Samael launched the attack. He plunged toward the cliff at full speed, unleashing a blast of intense flames onto the rock directly above the walkers, superheating the surface and triggering a lava flow.

To their credit, the constructs didn't let the sudden arrival disrupt them for long, and only one lost a limb since it was too close to maneuver out of the way safely. Their optical sensors flashed, and their dorsal turrets swiveled upward to track the incoming threat. Before they could fire their anti-magic darts at Samael, however, Pauline struck. Ribbons of solid darkness erupted from the crevices in the cliff face, wrapping around the turrets and covering the sensory arrays.

The machines jerked, their targeting systems momentarily scrambled by the sudden loss of feedback. It wouldn't last long, as shown by the sudden bursts of powdered Silence engulfing them, but it allowed Jonatan and the other mages to follow up with a barrage of concussive force bolts that hammered against the walkers' armored legs, forcing them to scramble to maintain their grip on the stone.

With the enemy's attention focused upward and their sensors compromised, Orion dropped into the fight, targeting the mechanical pitons firmly embedded in the basalt cliff that he had identified as the source of the Walkers' unnatural coordination. Some kind of magnetic emitters.

There is barely any magic to them, which explains why the dwarves haven't been targeting them, but I can see that they are serving as anchors, allowing the golems to connect to this field while airborne and move in ways they really shouldn't. Once he was close enough, Orion extended his hands, visualizing the exact vectors needed. [Gravity Cannon]. The sudden pressure crushed the basalt, and the rocky cliff cracked under the strain, violently releasing the piton.

A moment later, the nearest walker lurched to the side, its remaining legs scrambling to find a new grip. Two of the machines turned to him, and while one was immediately swarmed by darts of darkness, the other managed to burn away Pauline's shadows, its turret locking onto Orion. A volley of Silence-darts shot through the air, screaming toward him. Knowing they were too quick for him to react in time, Orion held his ground and cast [Event Horizon].

The space right in front of him warped as the change in the gravitational continuum bent it so much that it formed a visible, shimmering lens in the air. The incoming darts hit the distortion, and their paths were instantly altered. Instead of hitting him, they curved harmlessly around his body and soared into the empty gorge below.

"Keep them pinned!" Orion shouted, adjusting his position so that a protruding rock concealed his form from the Walkers' sensors. Not that I expect those damn things to lose track of me so easily, but anything between me and them is a bonus. He was proven right a moment later when a dozen darts slammed into the offending protrusion, obliterating it.

Before more could be loosed, Samael roared, amplifying his flames to create a curtain of heat that forced the walkers to continually adjust their heat-sinks, slowing their processing. Trusting that the mages had him covered, Orion moved to the next target. This walker had driven all eight of its legs deep into a solid block of basalt, making it much more secure, and was using its position to rain fire on both the dwarves and mages.

Shattering the stone wouldn't be enough to eliminate that one, but fortunately, Orion had more options available. He reached out with his magic, locking onto the machine's center of mass between its anchoring limbs, and cast [Collapsing Wormhole]. A thin, hyperdense space formed between the basalt and the rest of the mountain. While the Walker would have resisted the magic, the rock lacked such protection. The machine hung in the air for a moment as the basalt broke loose, then gravity took over.

It rushed down the mountainside, hitting the jagged rocks multiple times until it vanished into the dark mist of the gorge. A kind of signal flashed through the Field, too quick and complex for Orion to decrypt on the spot, but he quickly realized what it meant. Seeing their companion's fate and realizing their anti-magic was ineffective against the aerial bombardment, the remaining walkers suddenly stopped their ascent.

Their internal logic dictated a tactical retreat, so they detached their upper limbs, pivoted smoothly, and quickly descended the cliff face, searching for safety in the rocky valleys below. Samael prepared to pursue, but Orion raised a hand.

"Let them go. We don't have the time to hunt them through the crags, and it's likely they have reinforcements somewhere. This was far too small a force to do more than wreak havoc." The warmage scowled but canceled his spell, causing the flames to die away and reveal the bubbling cliff face, where lava started hardening into obsidian. On the battlements, the dwarven defenders took a while to stop their frantic casting. They looked down at the retreating machines, then up at the human mages hovering above.

With a deep, grinding groan, the fortress's massive stone doors slowly opened enough for the surviving warriors outside to withdraw inside. Orion guided his broom toward the wide stone platform jutting out from the main gate. He touched down gently, smoothing his lab coat and waiting for the rest of the team to land beside him. They didn't have to wait long, as a heavy set of footsteps echoed across the platform. A lone dwarf clad in interlocking plates of runic steel approached them.

He carried a heavy warhammer resting easily on one shoulder. His beard was singed, and his armor bore several fresh, corrosive scars from the Silence darts, but his posture was unbowed, and from his expression, he seemed torn between thanking them for the save and ordering his forces to attack.