Chapter 35: Chapter 34: The Iron Spider

The corpse of the Sentinel Mark III (the Golem) still lay in the center of the secret workshop, a massive heap of enchanted granite and cooling copper veins.

Arthur (Age 14) stood over it, holding the Sapphire Lens Rifle he had just built. But he wasn’t looking at the gun. He was looking at the room itself.

The workshop was vast, lined with dusty shelves and rusted tools. But in the center of the ceiling, hanging directly above the dead Golem, was a massive, shadowy shape.

It looked like a dead spider made of iron. It had six jointed arms folded against its body, covered in centuries of grime.

“What is that?” Julian asked, nursing his mana-exhaustion with a bottle of water. “Another monster?”

“No,” Arthur pointed his mana-flashlight upward. “Think, Julian. This facility was built to maintain the Academy’s defenses. When a Sentinel breaks, you don’t call a blacksmith. You bring it here.”

Arthur walked to a control pedestal beneath the hanging machine. He wiped away a thick layer of dust, revealing a console made of dull grey slate.

“This is a Maintenance Construct,” Arthur explained. “Or, as I call it, a Fabricator. Those arms aren’t for fighting. They are equipped with mana-welders, precision chisels, and telekinetic grippers.”

Arthur tapped the console. Nothing happened.

“It’s dead,” Arthur sighed. “Just like everything else in this basement. The main power conduit is severed.”

“So we fix it?” Zack asked, holding the iScroll.

“We have to,” Arthur turned to the dead Golem on the floor. “We need to build an engine for the car. A V4 steam block requires pistons machined to within 0.01 millimeters. I can’t do that with a hammer. I need that machine.”

Arthur patted the stone flank of the dead Sentinel.

“We have the parts,” Arthur said, a plan forming in his mind. “This Golem is full of high-grade actuators, mana-cabling, and a secondary power core. We aren’t just going to loot it for armor. We are going to transplant its heart into the ceiling.”

….

For the next ten hours, the workshop became a surgery theater.

“Julian, lift!” Arthur commanded.

Julian groaned, using a Levitation Spell to hoist the heavy stone chest plate off the dead Sentinel. “It’s heavy! Why did the Ancients build everything out of rock?”

“Granite is a natural insulator for mana,” Arthur explained, diving into the Golem’s exposed chest cavity. “It prevents the core from leaking radiation.”

Arthur was elbow-deep in the Golem’s guts. He used wire cutters (which he had forged previously) to snip the thick copper veins connecting the Golem’s Secondary Power Core.

It was a glowing orange sphere, smaller than the main Blue Core (which had exploded), but still pulsing with residual energy.

“Careful,” Arthur warned as he pulled the sphere out. “This is a Thermal Mana Reactor. If you drop it, it won’t explode; it will just melt a hole through the planet.”

Zack whimpered and took a step back.

Arthur climbed a ladder to the ceiling-mounted Fabricator. He opened the access hatch on the “Spider’s” belly. It was empty, a dark void of rusted gears.

“Zack, catch!” Arthur tossed the wrench down and accepted the orange sphere from Julian (who floated it up with magic).

Arthur slotted the reactor into the Fabricator. He connected the copper leads.

SPARK.

A shower of orange sparks rained down. The Iron Spider groaned. The rust on its joints cracked as the internal hydraulics pressurized.

WHIRRR-CLANK.

One of the six arms unfolded. It twitched, shaking off dust. Then another. Then all six.

The machine came alive. It didn’t have a face, but the red runic lights that flickered on along its arms gave it a menacing, industrial aura.

“It works,” Arthur breathed, descending the ladder. “We have automation.”

The Test Print

Arthur ran to the control pedestal. He connected his iScroll to the interface.

> HARDWARE DETECTED: ATHERIAN MAINTENANCE ARM (CLASS 4). > STATUS: ONLINE. > INPUT: AWAITING SCHEMATIC.

“Julian,” Arthur said. “Bring me the Golem’s arm plating.”

Julian levitated a massive slab of curved, enchanted steel—the armor of the Sentinel—onto the workbench beneath the spider.

“We need gears,” Arthur said. “Hardened steel gears for the car’s transmission.”

Arthur tapped a file on his iScroll: GEAR_RATIO_4.SCHEMATIC.

“Execute.”

The Fabricator moved.

It was terrifyingly fast. Two arms shot down, grabbing the steel plate with magnetic clamps. A third arm, tipped with a glowing white Plasma Cutter (mana-torch), descended.

ZZZZZT.

The torch sliced through the enchanted steel like butter. Sparks flew in a fountain of light.

A fourth arm, equipped with a heavy impact hammer, struck the hot metal. CLANG. It shaped the gear teeth with impossible precision.

In thirty seconds, the machine stopped.

Sitting on the workbench was a perfectly machined, still-smoking steel gear.

Julian picked it up with a wet rag, staring at it. “It’s… perfect. A blacksmith would take a week to make this. You did it in half a minute.”

“That is the power of the ancient world,” Arthur said, watching the machine hum. “They didn’t just have magic. They had Scale.”

Arthur looked at the pile of scrap metal—the remains of the Sentinel and the iron bleachers they had ripped from the gym.

“We have the factory,” Arthur declared. “We have the materials. Now, we build the beast.”

…

Over the next week, the workshop transformed into a production line.

Zack was in charge of the Blueprint Logic. He monitored the iScroll, feeding dimensions into the Fabricator.

Julian was the power plant. The Fabricator’s reactor was old; it couldn’t sustain high-output welding for long. Every hour, Julian had to pour raw mana into the orange sphere to keep the plasma torches hot.

“I am a noble!” Julian complained, sweating through his shirt as he channeled energy. “I am destined for the Royal Court, not a factory floor!”

“You are building the getaway car that saves your life,” Arthur reminded him, inspecting a piston. “Keep pumping.”

Vivian (who sneaked in at night) was Quality Control. She tested the durability of the parts by hitting them with a hammer. If they dented, they were rejected.

“This panel is weak,” CLANG. Vivian tossed a dented steel sheet aside. “Try again.”

“That was 4mm steel!” Arthur protested. “You hit it with a warhammer!”

“The monsters will hit harder,” Vivian grinned.

Finally, the heart of the machine was ready.

It sat on the assembly table. A V4 hybrid block.

Cylinders: Cast from the melted-down granite/iron alloy of the Sentinel’s skeleton (heat resistant).

Pistons: High-grade steel.

Intake: A dual-valve system. One for steam (water injection), one for pure mana injection.

Arthur wiped his hands on a rag. He looked at the engine. It was ugly, scarred, and heavy. But it was real.

“It’s not pretty,” Arthur admitted. “But it will hold pressure.”

“Where do we get the wheels?” Zack asked, looking at the heavy chassis they were assembling.

Arthur pointed to the alchemy station in the corner.

“We can’t forge rubber,” Arthur said. “But the Ancients used alchemical resin for the Golem’s joints. It’s flexible, durable, and heat-resistant.”

He picked up a bucket of black, tar-like sludge they had harvested from the Golem’s hydraulics.

“We are going to cast solid-state tires,” Arthur explained. “No air. No punctures. Just solid, shock-absorbing slime that hardens into rubber.”

“Gross,” Vivian said, poking the tar.

“Necessary,” Arthur corrected. “We have 90 days left. The engine is done. The chassis is welding now. Next, we need the fuel source.”

He looked at Julian.

“The steam engine runs on water and coal. Easy. But the Mana Turbine… it needs a Core. A big one.”

“We used the Golem’s core for the Fabricator,” Julian noted. “We don’t have another one.”

Arthur looked at the map on the wall—the map of the Wilds surrounding the Academy.

“Then we hunt,” Arthur said grimly. “We need a Class-B Monster Core. And I know exactly where to find one.”

End of Chapter 34

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep