Chapter 45: Combat-Type Alchemic Golem, Rift-Earth Hundred-Foot

Garos stood at the highest point of the Hemlock Hills, his gaze sweeping the ground like a blade.

The burrow-entrance the earth spiders had used to come and go was utterly silent — not even the shadow of a single earth spider could be seen.

This was highly unusual.

Driven by the innate urge to breed, these earth spiders would not vanish without cause, nor would they collectively defy orders.

Garos pawed at an empty black-oil jar with his claws, his expression heavy and solemn, lost in thought.

Over the past several months, the small oilfield the earth spiders had visited daily belonged to the Blackrock Duchy — a dwarven nation, a member of the Lothrin Federation.

A detachment of the Blackrock Duchy's army was garrisoned at the oilfield; Garos had once observed them from afar.

Overall, it was far smaller in scale than the Carmel Black Oilfield belonging to the Lothrin Kingdom, which he had glimpsed in passing, but it was not to be underestimated.

Heavy infantry alone numbered over two thousand, and because they were tasked with guarding the oilfield in the perilous wilderness, every one of them was an elite — clad head to toe in rune-reinforced heavy armor, equipped with fine gear such as battle-axes and great shields.

Rock-Armor War-Ram heavy cavalry, numbering over two hundred.

Garos had once watched them drill on the field — when the heavy cavalry charged, they kicked up endless dust, their iron hooves making the very earth shudder and wail; their ferocity and military discipline were far beyond anything the goblin wolf-riders of before could match.

Every dwarven heavy cavalryman wore even finer rune-forged full steel armor, and carried lances several meters long and curved tower shields.

There were also lightly equipped scout riders responsible for reconnaissance at the oilfield's outermost perimeter, each at the very least equipped with a heavy crossbow, grappling hook, poison-smoke bomb, and the like; their mounts, blue-maned horses, were magical beasts, swift as the wind in coming and going.

As for the rarer spellcasters, Garos had never seen them directly, but they certainly existed.

And none of these were the most formidable part.

The true core of the Blackrock forces was still those war machines and alchemic golems.

Each alchemic golem — thick, hard, like a boulder — even standing motionless in place radiated an oppressive air that warned the living away.

In short.

Compared with a force of this scale, Garos stood alone and weak, and for now could not contend with them.

If a juvenile dragon were discovered and its location exposed, the Blackrock forces garrisoned near the oilfield would absolutely not mind dispatching soldiers to hunt the juvenile dragon and earn some unexpected resources.

Dwarven alchemists were numerous.

Their demand for top-grade alchemic materials was great.

And on a dragon's body — scales, flesh, bone, claws, teeth — every single one was excellent material; to cage and raise a juvenile dragon, continuously harvesting from it, would yield a steady stream of high-quality alchemic materials.

"Over these past months, the earth spiders have steadily brought back a considerable amount of oil-soil; although it's only the outer soil, if someone attentive noticed, they could sense something was off."

Garos flicked his tail, sending a few shards of rock flying.

Just then, the burrow-entrance the earth spiders commonly used suddenly split open and bulged upward, as if some subterranean creature were burrowing up toward the surface.

"The earth spiders are back? No — that's not right!"

First, a single earth spider crawled out of the burrow-entrance, but before it had taken a few steps, an invisible ripple of shock swept past; the soft organs beneath its carapace were injured, and it suddenly went limp, collapsing to the ground.

Garos's gaze sharpened slightly as he saw a triangular, flattened head emerge.

Immediately after.

A massive, elongated body bored up out of the ground in its entirety.

A carapace gleaming with a cold, hard sheen, the texture of black metal; a slender body formed by dozens of steel segments linked in series; densely packed limbs like folding sabers, extending from the joints, constantly contracting and unfolding.

It was unmistakably the alchemic golem that had guarded the oilfield's underground — the one Garos had once glimpsed in the earth spiders' memory fragments.

It was 8.2 meters long overall, with a trunk diameter of 1.5 meters, looking like a steel centipede.

Rift-Earth Hundred-Foot.

A subterranean-type anti-infiltration alchemic golem, and a combat type as well.

Stained with some green blood belonging to the earth spider, this Rift-Earth Hundred-Foot first stepped forward and easily tore the lone remaining earth spider to shreds, then slightly raised its head and surveyed its surroundings; the two metallic whiskers resembling antennae on its triangular head swayed ceaselessly, as if sizing up and scrutinizing the environment.

Crack-crack-crack!

The ground bulged and split open once more.

Two more Rift-Earth Hundred-Foots burrowed out, investigating the surroundings together; their body lengths and trunk diameters were all identical, without any difference, as if carved from a single mold.

"The loss of oil-soil over these five months has drawn attention; the alchemic golems, originally just guarding the black oil, killed the earth spiders and tracked them all the way along the underground tunnels."

The instant he saw them, Garos confirmed the suspicion in his heart.

"The day has come after all."

He thought to himself.

Being discovered was only a matter of time — Garos had long had a premonition of this; while carrying out his daily flight training, he had in fact also been surveying the surroundings from on high, watching movements in every direction, to guard against any force approaching to launch a sneak attack on him.

At the same time.

Red light flashed on the heads of the three Rift-Earth Hundred-Foots, as if they had detected something; then they simultaneously raised their heads and looked toward the red-iron juvenile dragon atop the Hemlock Hills.

The red juvenile dragon Samantha, who was closer to them, was ignored by them.

The reason was simple — they had detected a more dangerous high-energy reaction on Garos and judged him a threat, whereas Samantha was not worth guarding against.

"They've spotted me."

Garos's inner alarm went up, but he was not panicked; looking into the distance from where he stood, he saw no sign of the Blackrock forces.

"It has come to this — let me test the strength of these alchemic golems."

These few Rift-Earth Hundred-Foots looked, at first glance, utterly different from the Giant-Armed Miner.

Their cold, hard coloring gave off a dangerous, icy feeling; at first glance they looked like weapons, not digging tools like the Giant-Armed Miner.

"Samantha, Mobel — you two keep your distance, don't intervene."

Hearing Garos's words, Samantha, though eager to try, did not defy him; she beat her wings and flew up high, circling far from the ground, while the Great Earth Bear Mobel hid behind a hemlock tree.

At the same time.

Garos leaped from the high ground of the hills, plunging down at extreme speed, and charged to kill toward the three Rift-Earth Hundred-Foots.

As countless branches and trunks were severed, the fine scales on his wing membranes ground against each other, sending out scattered sparks, as if dragging behind him a hazy cloak woven of interweaving sparks.

Facing the red-iron juvenile dragon's extreme-speed assault.

The hundred-legged Earth-Splitter's leg segments, each like a battle-axe, snapped open with a swish and began to vibrate at high frequency, yet instead of meeting the fierce charge head-on, it plunged straight into the ground, its body swaying as it vanished beneath the surface.

Boom!

With Garos's descent, a massive crater tore open in the earth; gravel scattered like bullets, and dust was swept outward by the shockwave.

A light flick of his dragon wings dispersed the thick haze.

Garos narrowed his gaze, scanning the surroundings inch by inch, but saw no sign of the Earth-Splitter.

It seemed to have fled.

No.

It had not fled.

Garos sensed a subtle tremor rising from beneath the ground, growing steadily stronger; the Earth-Splitters had burrowed underground merely to dodge his initial, overwhelming assault, not to escape.

For these combat-oriented alchemical golems, the system offered no option to flee before fighting.

(End of this chapter)