Chapter 152: The Gears of War Will Be Turned by Us
“Meat grinder…” Hank repeated Nolan’s words, his brows knitting together.
Seeing his reaction, Nolan suddenly asked an unrelated question, “Hank, do you remember the trouble Leus used to cause back in Rosenberg?”
Leus?
Hank frowned as a flood of unpleasant memories surfaced in his mind.
Back then, Leus had been nowhere near as dependable as he was now. One day he would fill the neighborhood with clouds of multicolored smoke and earn collective complaints from the residents; the next, he would nearly blow his own alchemy shop sky-high with some failed “reverse tuning” experiment.
Then, all at once, Hank understood what Nolan meant. “You mean those ‘energy condensation crystals’ we saw before?”
“Exactly.” Nolan snapped his fingers. “Master Leus is a true alchemical genius. He’s improved and upgraded them. The current version is stronger and far more stable. It even has a new name now: Thunderclap.” He raised two fingers. “There are about two hundred prototypes stored in the city warehouses. We’ll take half of them and bury one every fifteen meters along the riverbed. These things are far more effective than wooden stakes, and they’re heavy enough that the current won’t wash them away.”
Yet unlike usual, Hank did not immediately answer with his customary firm acknowledgment. He fell silent. In those sharp, hawk-like eyes of his appeared a rare trace of hesitation.
Noticing something off about him, Nolan assumed he was recalling the instability accidents involving the old crystals.
“Don’t worry.” Nolan patted his shoulder reassuringly. “The current Thunderclaps are very safe. They won’t explode at the slightest disturbance anymore. As long as we don’t deliberately trigger them, they’re nothing more than stones.”
Standing nearby, Anna looked at her father’s tense profile and sighed softly. “Father… isn’t worried about that.” Her words drew everyone’s attention. “I know this may not be the right time to say it…”
There was pain in Anna’s eyes, but she did not avoid the subject.
“But… the soldiers across the river are still Elfinians.”
That single sentence shattered the reality everyone had been deliberately avoiding. No matter their allegiance, they were still citizens of the same kingdom, compatriots who spoke the same language.
Nolan closed his eyes. Only the crackling of candle flames remained in the council chamber.
When he opened them again, all hesitation had vanished from those emerald-green eyes.
“I know.”
His voice was calm.
“But the moment they chose to follow Archduke Demont and tolerate his atrocities, they became our enemies. On the battlefield, it’s kill or be killed. Even if we show mercy, they won’t hesitate when they swing their swords. Whether we use Thunderclaps or blades, one side must fall before the other can continue forward. There is no second path.”
Hank drew in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He was a veteran who had survived bloody wars. No one understood this truth better than he did. Once the tide of war was set in motion, the fighting would continue until one side finally yielded.
In truth, if Nolan still carried traces of idealism in his words and actions, then Hank was the most pragmatic person in the entire group. He had never entertained the naïve fantasy of saving everyone. That fleeting hesitation had come from a single name.
Pascal.
The name had instantly stirred one of the few warm memories left from the hellscape of the Mandala War. It was the bond between comrades. Though the two had long since gone their separate ways, that figure he had once trusted enough to leave his back exposed to had undeniably existed.
Hank pulled a cigar from his coat and took a fierce drag. The ember flared bright red, illuminating the resolve that had returned to his weathered face.
“Nolan’s right.”
Smoke poured from his mouth, obscuring his expression.
“I let myself grow weak for a moment. For the glory of the kingdom, for the ideals we share, I’ll keep moving forward without wavering. Even if it means crossing blades with former comrades.”
Anna looked at her father, then at Nolan, and sighed once more. How could she not understand?
“The scales of fate were never fair,” she said softly. “But I believe in my lord. I believe a miracle will happen.”
Hank burst into hearty laughter instead, the sound dispelling the oppressive atmosphere. “So the younger generation’s gotten a good laugh at this old man, huh?” He deliberately put on a stern face. “None of you are allowed to tell outsiders about this. I’d still like to keep a bit of my dignity.”
Nolan laughed as well and walked over to clap him heavily on the shoulder. “Remember what I told you before? I’m not some heroic savior. It’s not that I don’t want to be one—I’m simply not worthy of it. A true hero should be flawless and pure, but I can’t do that. I can’t save this kingdom I love while keeping my hands completely clean. The path I’ve chosen was always destined to be stained with the sins of every life lost along the way.”
Everyone present could feel the crushing weight of that conviction.
“But I don’t regret it. Not for your sake, nor for Elfin’s future.” And… for Princess Flina, and that ideal, he added silently in his heart.
Some truths were not yet ready to be revealed.
Vivi stood to the side, staring at Nolan in a daze.
That was the kind of person he was. Naïve, yet terrifyingly clear-headed.
He never indulged in empty talk about ideals. No one understood reality’s cruelty better than he did. Yet somehow, this man who seemed to have already seen through the essence of the world still carried the fiercest flame of idealism in his heart.
Without anyone noticing, that flame had become a beacon lighting the road ahead for them all.
To Vivi, this lord who walked alone beneath invisible burdens shone more brilliantly than any legendary hero.
Nolan did not continue the heavy topic. Turning around, he looked toward Rehanna. “By the way, Rehanna, the latest batch of black armor from Leus is finished, right?”
Rehanna nodded excitedly. “It’s done! Four hundred and fifty sets in total!” The moment the subject came up, her energy surged. “The Hurricane Enchantments nearly worked Master Leus and his apprentices to death. Lady Ailindel also took time to help inscribe the cloak runes. Four hundred and fifty sets are already the absolute production limit of the alchemy workshop and the forge.”
“That’s already far beyond my expectations.” Excitement flashed in Nolan’s eyes as well. “Excellent!” He lightly struck the sand table with his fist. “Rehanna, Hank!”
“Yes!” the two answered in unison.
“Starting today, immediately select the best four hundred soldiers from the Black Armored Legion and have them familiarize themselves with the new equipment first. The entire city is to enter its final state of total mobilization. All logistical supplies are to be centralized and prepared for deployment at any moment.”
Nolan’s gaze swept across everyone present—Vivi, Hank, Anna, Rehanna…
He drew a deep breath, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. “This battle will decide the fate of Coldsteel City and the fate of every one of us! It will also be the battle through which we prove our worth to all of Demont Province—and to the entire kingdom! We will show everyone that we are a force capable of reshaping the kingdom’s future! From this moment onward, the gears of war will be turned by us!”
Inside the Coldsteel City council chamber, beneath the chill of late autumn, everyone’s blood ignited at once. Together, they answered their lord with the slogan once belonging to the legendary Black Armor Army.
“To the death, and never surrender!”