Chapter 53: Chapter 52: The Iron Horse

Time Remaining: 39 Days, 14 Hours. (The clock was ticking. Arthur had calibrated it to the estimated meltdown point). Location: The Royal Junkyard (Sector 4).

The Royal Junkyard didn’t smell like history. It smelled like wet rust and bad decisions.

Arthur stood at the edge of the lot, looking at the mountains of scrap metal. The “Old Railyard” was a mass grave for the First Era’s heavy industry. Twisted girders stuck out of the mud like ribs. Boiler plates the size of houses lay half-buried in oil puddles.

“It’s a trash heap,” Julian said. He was wearing a pair of pristine white gloves he had found somewhere. “We are going to die of an infection before we even reach the Empire.”

“It’s a parts catalog,” Arthur corrected.

He checked his clipboard. The King had delivered the supplies.

Mithril Ingots: 50kg (Enough for the engine block).

Alchemical Rubber: 4 barrels (For the tires).

The Pendelton Cruiser: Currently a wreck. The front axle was snapped, the windshield was gone, and the mana-battery was cracked.

“We have 48 hours,” Arthur announced. The wind rattled the scrap piles, drowning him out. He raised his voice. “We have 48 hours to turn this wreck into a transcontinental locomotive.”

He pointed at the Cruiser. “Zack, strip the chassis. I want the armor plating off. We need to reinforce the frame.”

“Me?” Zack squeaked, holding a wrench that was bigger than his arm. “I’m the navigator!”

“Today, you’re the demolition crew. Here’s a crowbar.” Arthur tossed it. Zack caught it and nearly fell over.

“Vivian,” Arthur pointed to a row of massive, rusted iron wheels half-buried in the dirt. “I need six of those. Dig them out.”

“On it,” Vivian grinned. She spat on her hands and grabbed her hammer.

“And Julian…”

Julian took a step back. “I am a sniper. My hands are precision instruments. I do not do… labor.”

“You’re the crane,” Arthur said. “I need you to lift the engine block. Unless you want me to ask Vivian to throw it at you.”

Julian looked at the engine block. It was a solid block of cast iron. It weighed at least two tons. “Fine,” Julian sighed. “But I am billing the Crown for mental damages.”

[System Notification: The Grind Begins.]

[Current Task: Retrofit the Cruiser.]

[Consultant Note: First Era steel is high-carbon. It’s brittle. If you weld it too hot, the chassis will snap in the Wastes. Watch your temperature.]

“Noted,” Arthur muttered.

….

Hour 6:Arthur was under the chassis, welding the new Mithril sub-frame. The sparks burned his arms. The heat was suffocating.

“Pass me the 10mm socket,” Arthur yelled. “I can’t find it!” Zack yelled back from inside a pile of scrap. “It’s literally in your hand, Zack!”

Hour 12: Vivian rolled the massive iron wheels into position. They were heavy, cast-iron train wheels from the old era. Arthur was building the Hi-Rail System. He designed a hydraulic pivot for the axles.

Mode 1: Massive rubber tires for ground travel.

Mode 2: The rubber tires retract, and the steel train wheels drop down to lock onto the rails.

“It’s a hybrid,” Arthur explained, wiping grease off his face. “We drive out of the city on rubber. We hit the Waste, find the buried tracks, drop the steel wheels, and ride the rails.”

“What if the tracks are broken?” Julian asked. He was sitting on a crate, looking pale.

“Then we derail and die,” Arthur said, checking the alignment. “Stop taking breaks. The engine is next.”

Hour 24: The Engine Lift This was the hard part. Arthur had bolted a Thunder-Lizard Mana Core to a Steam Boiler. It was a monstrosity.

The Steam: Provided the torque for pulling weight.

The Core: Provided the burst speed.

“Lift it,” Arthur ordered.

Julian stood in front of the engine. He didn’t touch it. He raised his hands, his fingers trembling. Violet mana flared around his body. The engine block shuddered. It groaned as it lifted an inch off the ground.

“It’s… heavy,” Julian gritted out through clenched teeth. Sweat dripped down his nose. “The density… is absurd.”

“It’s two tons,” Arthur said, guiding the hoist chain. “Keep it steady. If you drop it, it cracks the chassis, and we walk to the Empire.”

Julian’s veins popped in his neck. The mana flared brighter, straining against the laws of gravity. “Hurry… up…”

Arthur worked fast. He bolted the mounts. He welded the supports. “Down. Slowly.”

Julian collapsed the field. The engine slammed into place with a metallic thud. The suspension groaned but held. Julian fell over backward into the mud, gasping for air. “I hate… engineering,” he wheezed.

Hour 36: “We need a gun,” Vivian said. She was sitting on the roof of the vehicle, eating an apple she found.

“We have Julian,” Arthur said.

“Julian is comatose,” Vivian pointed at the sleeping mage.

“We need a big gun,” Vivian clarified. “The Rust Wastes have Sand-Worms. Big ones. Armored ones.”

Arthur looked at the pile of junk. He saw a rusted rotary pipe system. It used to be part of an industrial water pump. “Grab that,” Arthur pointed. “And grab the pneumatic pistons from that crushed loader.”

[System Query: Are you building a Gatling Gun?]

[Consultant Note: The barrel rotation speed will cause friction welding. You need a coolant jacket.]

“I’ll use the radiator overflow,” Arthur thought back. “Water cools the engine, then cycles around the gun barrels.”

[System: Acceptable. Brutal, but acceptable.]

Arthur spent the next four hours welding the Pneumatic Rotary Cannon to the roof. It didn’t fire bullets. It fired Railroad Spikes. He built a hopper that fed rusted iron spikes into the chamber, using compressed steam to launch them at Mach 1.

“It’s ugly,” Vivian said, spinning the barrels. “I love it.”

…..

Hour 47. The sun was setting. The team stood back.

It wasn’t the Pendelton Cruiser anymore. The sleek blue paint was gone, replaced by raw, unpainted steel plates welded in jagged angles. Six massive rubber tires sat on the ground. Tucked behind them were the steel rail-wheels. The roof mounted the Rotary Spike Cannon. The front bumper was a heavy cow-catcher made of reinforced Mithril, designed to ram through stone walls.

It looked like a tank and a locomotive had a child, and that child went to prison.

“We need a name,” Zack said nervously.

“The Indestructible,” Vivian suggested.

“The Gentleman’s Carriage,” Julian mumbled, rubbing his back.

“The Iron Horse,” Arthur said, patting the hot metal of the fender. “Simple. Descriptive.”

[System Notification: Vehicle Registered.]

[Name: The Iron Horse (MK I).]

[Class: Heavy Siege Transport.]

[Durability: High.]

[Comfort: Non-existent.]

[Safety Rating: D-.]

“Safety rating is subjective,” Arthur muttered.

“Mount up!” Arthur ordered. “We leave at dusk. The King opened the West Gate for us.”

Arthur climbed into the driver’s seat. It was tight. The dashboard was a mess of analog pressure gauges and mana crystals. Vivian took the passenger seat (Gunner Control). Zack took the back (Radar/Navigation). Julian crawled into the “nest”—a small, padded section near the roof hatch where he could snipe.

“Pressure check,” Arthur flipped a switch. The boiler hissed. The mana core hummed. The vehicle vibrated, shaking the rust off the nearby piles.

“Steam pressure at 90%,” Arthur called out. “Mana flow stable.”

He grabbed the heavy iron lever that served as the gear shift. “Next stop: The Rust Wastes.”

He slammed the lever forward. The Iron Horse didn’t accelerate smoothly. It lurched. The tires spun, tearing up the mud, and then they shot forward with a roar that sounded like a dying dragon.

They smashed through the wooden gate of the junkyard, splintering it into kindling. They hit the main road leading out of the city.

Arthur looked in the rearview mirror. The Palace was shrinking behind them. He looked ahead. The paved road ended a mile out. Beyond that was the orange, dusty haze of the frontier.

“Zack,” Arthur shouted over the engine noise. “Do we have a fix on the tracks?”

“I think so!” Zack yelled, holding the iScroll. “The map says the old line starts about 10 miles West! Near the… uh… ’Canyon of Screams’.”

“Charming name,” Julian groaned from the roof. “I hate this trip already.”

“Get ready,” Arthur gripped the wheel. “We’re going off-road.”

End of Chapter 52

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