With the upgrades complete, Victor’s dungeon—now a true Wagon-Fortress—rolled forward, its massive treads grinding against the uneven forest floor. The sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs echoed through the trees as the fortress advanced, a mechanical behemoth bristling with weaponry and glowing with the faint hum of mana. The forest seemed to part before it, as if the very earth recognized the significance of their journey.

  The Steam Sentinels patrolled the perimeter, their towering frames casting long shadows in the dappled sunlight. Their glowing eyes scanned the treeline with mechanical precision, ever vigilant for any sign of movement. Each Sentinel moved with a deliberate, rhythmic gait, their steam vents hissing softly as they maintained their watch.

  Above, the Clockwork Falcons soared, their blade wings glinting in the sunlight as they sliced through the air. The falcons darted between the trees, their sharp eyes scanning for threats from above. Their movements were fluid and graceful, a stark contrast to the lumbering power of the Wagon-Fortress below.

  Aelin, Borin, and Pip rode on the roof of the fortress, their expressions a mix of excitement and apprehension. The wind whipped through their hair as they watched the forest roll by, the rhythmic clanking of the treads beneath them a constant reminder of the power they now commanded.

  Aelin stood at the edge of the roof, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Her bow was slung across her back, and her hand rested on the hilt of a dagger at her side. “This is it,” she said, her voice as precise as the arrows she fired. “The Scrap Titan could be the key to our survival. If we can harness its power, we’ll have a fighting chance against whatever’s out there.”

  Borin leaned against the railing, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His hammer rested at his feet, its head gleaming with freshly polished steel. “Or our doom,” he rumbled, his tone gruff but not unkind. “That thing’s been buried for a reason. If it was easy to control, someone would’ve done it by now.”

  The Iron Road

  The rocky expanse stretched endlessly before Victor’s Wagon-Fortress, its jagged terrain a stark contrast to the dense forests they had left behind. Towering cliffs and boulders loomed like ancient monoliths, their shadows stretching across the barren landscape. The air was dry and filled with the faint scent of dust and minerals, and the only sounds were the crunch of gravel under the fortress’s treads and the occasional whistle of wind through the crags. Victor’s core pulsed steadily, casting a warm bronze glow through the dungeon’s brass walls. The Steam Sentinels patrolled the perimeter, their piston-powered fists gleaming in the sunlight, while the Clockwork Falcons Mk. II soared overhead, their blade wings glinting as they sliced through the open sky.

  Aelin, Borin, and Pip rode on the roof, their expressions a mix of excitement and apprehension as they surveyed the harsh landscape.

  “Feels strange being out here after all that time in the forest,” Borin muttered, his hammer resting on his shoulder. “Too many rocks, not enough cover. Feels like we’re sitting ducks out here.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “The forest was predictable,” Aelin replied, her sharp eyes scanning the jagged terrain. “This place? It’s a maze of blind spots and ambush points. We’ll need to stay sharp.”

  Pip, ever the optimist, was busy tinkering with a small device. She held it up triumphantly, the brass and crystal gadget gleaming in the sunlight. “Check this out! I call it the Aether Compass. It’s designed to detect mana signatures—like a treasure map for energy sources. If we can boost its signal, we’ll be able to track resources or even hidden dangers from miles away. Imagine what we could find out here!”

  Victor’s core pulsed with curiosity. “How close are you to finishing it?”

  “Almost there,” Pip said, her hands moving frantically as she adjusted a few dials. “Just need to—”

  Before she could finish, one of the Clockwork Falcons let out a sharp, mechanical cry. Its sensor orb flashed, and a signal was relayed back to Victor’s core.

  “The falcons have spotted something,” Victor announced, his voice calm but intrigued. “A road—cutting through the rocks. It looks man-made.”

  Aelin squinted in the direction Victor indicated. “There,” she said, pointing to a winding, weathered trail etched into the landscape. “It’s faint, but it’s there. See the grooves in the stone? Those are wheel marks.”

  Borin stepped closer to the edge of the roof, his sharp eyes following the trail. “Aye, that’s no natural formation. This must be the Iron Road.”

  “The Iron Road?” Pip asked, her curiosity piqued as she set aside her Aether Compass for a moment.

  “It’s an old mining route,” Borin explained. “Used to be the main path miners took to haul ore and materials from the mines in these mountains to the rest of the kingdom. They’d load up carts with iron, copper, and whatever else they dug up, then roll them down this road to the trade hubs. It was a lifeline for the region—until the mines dried up and the goblins moved in.”

  Aelin nodded, her expression thoughtful. “If this is the Iron Road, it could lead us straight to the heart of the mining district. That’s where we’re most likely to find information and supplies.”

  Pip grinned, her excitement palpable. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s follow it! With the Wagon-Fortress and my Aether Compass, we’ll be unstoppable.”

  Victor’s core pulsed with resolve. The Iron Road was a relic of a bygone era, but it could be pivotal point in their journey. “Agreed,” he said through S-01, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s move forward—but stay vigilant. If this road was abandoned, there’s no telling what we might find along the way.”

  With that, the Wagon-Fortress rumbled to life once more, its treads grinding against the ancient stones of the Iron Road. The group pressed onward, their eyes scanning the cliffs and boulders for signs of danger—or opportunity.

  Just as they began to pick up speed, a faint groan echoed through the rocks, low and guttural, like the sound of something ancient stirring.

  Borin’s grip tightened on his hammer. “What was that?”

  Aelin’s bow was already drawn, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows. “Stay alert,” she said, her voice low. “Whatever it is, it’s close.”

  Victor’s core pulsed with caution. The Iron Road had been abandoned for a reason, and the sound was a stark reminder that they were not alone.