Heavy Metal

The hooves struck stone in a restless rhythm. Varkas sat tall in the saddle at the front of the formation, a black cloak draped over polished armor. Torchlight danced across his face, sharpening the lines carved there by sleepless nights and rising fury.

"They think we are prey. They think we will scatter like rats."

His voice was not loud, yet his people heard him clearly. The group was much smaller than usual as the toll of the last few weeks took hold. Their numbers had dwindled tremendously, and many had abandoned the stronghold. They had distanced themselves once they realized someone was hunting them. The ones who remained were not afraid. They were Varkas's most loyal men.

"While we have lost some men, we have not lost our fangs,"

Varkas continued, his gaze sweeping across the diminished ranks.

"We regroup. We rebuild. After we transport this deposit safely, we will replenish our numbers with adventurers and mercenaries there. We will find whoever is responsible for this and deal with him the way hounds deal with their prey. We will tear them limb from limb."

A whisper of agreement rippled through the mounted Hounds. Behind them, a heavily reinforced wagon creaked forward. Iron-banded chests sat chained within, each stamped with the lord's emblem. Gold and other treasures lay inside, and this was a mission they could not fail. There was enough gold to recruit twice their former numbers, along with capable trackers to discover who had been trying to erase them.

"Leader, are you sure about this? Once we leave the settlement…"

"I know. You do not need to tell me."

Varkas raised his hand as a rider approached. He was larger than the others and carried a massive axe strapped across his back.

"No matter what, we must complete this mission. Our future depends on it. Once we overcome this hurdle and prove ourselves, our name will rise again."

"… Yes, Captain."

The man nodded and did not press further. Yet from afar, someone was already watching the group. His form blended into the shadows, and even from this distance, he could hear every word they said.

'They are probably expecting us to be there, but this is the best and perhaps the only chance I will get.'`

Rusty remained still, watching the carriage roll out with ten horsemen surrounding it and five more guards inside for added protection. The group was no longer large, thanks to his nightly raids and careful subterfuge. With Aburdon's help, he had turned many of these humanoids against one another. Now he only needed to finish the job.

His true target had always been Varkas, their leader. The mercenaries could be replaced in time, but that did not matter. The man had crossed him for long enough. For that, he needed to disappear.

The carriage was similar to the one he had attacked before. It carried a fair amount of wealth and appeared to be a bribe prepared by the city's noble. Rusty had no idea who the intended recipient was, but given the political structure of these lands, it had to be someone above Borran Vexen. Likely a higher noble who helped him maintain his power in exchange for payment.

After Gleam and Aburdon examined the documents, they learned the routes the carriage would take. With that information, choosing the ideal location for an ambush was not difficult. Even so, this would not be an easy mission for their small group of four. If they failed to act now, the ranks of the Hounds would be replenished once the carriage returned, and Rusty would be forced to launch another attack. He doubted he could continue that cycle forever. Sooner or later, he would be caught or overwhelmed. This group had to be eliminated now, and their leader had to answer for his crimes.

The gates groaned as they opened, and the column of riders passed beyond the city walls. The Hounds were leaving not only to deliver gold, but to survive. Their banner fluttered in the wind as they followed the familiar trade road. Beyond the fields lay a forest, and beyond the forest another settlement, a place where coin could quickly turn into blades.

Rusty watched from the shadows of the gate tower until the last torchlight vanished down the road.

"So this is it."

"Finally."

Aburdon cackled inside the helmet.

"No more games. No more little hunts. Just death."

Alexander's voice was quieter.

"We should be careful. Even with their numbers diminished, this will not be easy."

Gleam wiggled her antennae.

"( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و"

Rusty nodded and shrank into his miniature form so he could climb onto Gleam's back and take flight. They soared into the sky, heading toward the place where they would set their ambush.

They flew above the mounted mercenaries and their carriage. The riders scanned their surroundings, but to them Gleam would appear to be nothing more than a bird in the sky. They could not imagine that an intelligent monster was pursuing them, and that was Rusty's greatest weapon. He was an unknown enemy who could not be fought by ordinary means.

"Just as planned. We will strike when they cross that chasm. They will have nowhere to flee."

Most of the journey followed the main road, but halfway through they would take a shortcut. It passed through a narrow gorge that offered the perfect ambush point and gave Rusty the high ground. At their current speed, he and Gleam arrived more than half a day earlier, leaving plenty of time to prepare the trap.

Rusty worked in his goliath frame, pushing boulders into position and hiding magical charges where Aburdon and Alexander directed for maximum impact. Once everything was in place, he turned to Gleam.

"Gleam, much of this plan depends on you. Can you do it?"

"( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و"

"Good. I knew I could trust you."

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Rusty secured a few straps on Gleam's enchanted armor and adjusted the satchel fastened beneath her abdomen. It held several small tube-like attachments, each sealed with a lid.

"Do you remember how to use this?"

Gleam bobbed her head in a distinctly human nod. Soon, faint vibrations trembled through the ground. The mercenaries were approaching, their horses entering the narrow gorge.

"They are coming. It is time."

"( •̀ ᴗ •́ )"

Gleam leaped and shot into the sky. Rusty waited a moment before stepping toward a metal plate etched with enchantments and set to activate on a timer. Using his life detection skill and Aburdon's guidance, he calculated the precise moment, triggered the simple device, and moved into position below.

Rusty slid down into the gorge. It was not especially tall, but steep enough that horses or humans would struggle to climb it quickly. At the bottom, suits of armor already lay sprawled across the ground. Most were near his landing point, though several were positioned along the sides for a surprise attack.

"Who goes there?"

The shout came from a large man wielding an axe, mounted on horseback. He was the last remaining sub-leader, the only one who had survived Rusty's earlier interference and chosen not to flee with the others in order to prove his loyalty.

Rusty did not answer. He raised his hand and activated his puppet skill. The scattered suits of armor lurched to life, each gripping a large shield and spear. They formed ranks, spreading outward and bracing themselves, ready to strike if the riders advanced.

For a moment, the gorge fell silent. The men on horseback reined in as they caught sight of the armored figures blocking their path.

"So this is our ghost?"

Varkas moved forward, his gaze settling on Rusty, who stood at the center surrounded by multiple suits of armor. Night was drawing near, and shadows filled the ravine, yet one thing was certain. There were no human foes.

"Golems… no, living armor? Is this the true identity of my adversary? A magician?"

The riders tightened their formation around the wagon. Shields rose. A pair of archers notched arrows and aimed at the silent, shield-bearing figures. Before either side could strike, a massive explosion tore through the gorge. The magical charges Rusty had assembled detonated, triggering a cascade of rocks and boulders. He had tried to recreate the avalanche he had experienced when he was summoned before, replacing snow with stone.

"Move forward!"

Varkas shouted. Boulders thundered down the slope, sealing the path behind the riders exactly as Rusty had planned. Dust filled the air. When it finally settled, and the mercenaries faced their enemy, fear was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a laugh escaped Varkas.

"Is this your grand plan? To ambush me in the very place I sent you? This will be your grave, whoever you are!"

The mercenary leader raised his saber high, and one of his men blew a sharp whistle. The piercing sound echoed through the gorge. Moments later, footsteps pounded from the forest flanking the ravine. Hidden figures burst from the trees. Mercenaries, adventurers, and hired blades scrambled up the ledges, bows drawn and aimed at Rusty and his smaller band of living armor.

"As you can see, you are the one trapped like a rat!"

Armed men even emerged behind him. Now Rusty appeared to be the one surrounded. He offered no reply. Instead, he silently directed his minions into position, forming a tight circle of shields and spears around him as he faced the mercenary leader without a word.

"So you knew that I would be here?"

Rusty was using a different head now, and a voice that could not be recognized as Edmund's.

"Of course. Did you really think I would not realize you were spying on me? Feeding you false information is as easy as killing a rat, and I will do the same to you."

Varkas chuckled as his group approached. He pointed his saber at Rusty, and a barrage of arrows rained down on the metallic soldiers. Most, as expected, bounced right off, deflected by shields or by the puppets' armor. Soon, however, magic was brought into play. Arrows infused with mana pierced his constructs and even seemed to rattle his frame as he dropped to his knees and raised his arms to shield himself.

"That's it. Don't let them escape. Bring that magician to me. I will deal with him personally!"

The puppet armors began to fall once the enchanted weapons were deployed. As their formation broke, the hired mercenaries moved in. Their advance was careful and deliberate. They used long spears to keep their distance, overwhelming the remaining constructs with sheer numbers.

Then Rusty was the only one left standing, and what happened next left everyone staring in confusion.

"..."

His frame shifted, not into the towering Goliath built for battle, nor into the swift Wrath meant for escape. Instead, he took on a smaller, bulkier form that resembled a dwarf encased in heavy armor. In his hands were two thick shieldlike slabs of metal that did not appear to be weapons at all. When he brought them together, they formed a solid cone that covered his entire body.

"What is he doing?"

The remaining sub-leader frowned, unable to understand the tactic. Victory seemed certain. There were no enemies nearby, no visible traps, no way for Rusty to escape. Yet Varkas felt a sudden chill. Something was wrong.

"I don't know, but…"

The mercenary leader scanned the area. His gaze lifted to the sky, where a faint glimmer caught his eye. By then, it was already too late. The first object had fallen, striking the men positioned along one side of the chasm.

"ARGH!"

Explosions thundered across the battlefield as objects rained down from above, delivered by one furious ant.

"( •̀ - •́ )"

Rusty remained crouched within the protective cone of metal, listening to the blasts erupt around him. This had been planned from the start, devised with the help of his guides. They knew Varkas would eventually realize how information was reaching them and would attempt to feed them false leads. They anticipated an ambush prepared long before their arrival. This was their countermeasure.

Rusty had crafted as many magical explosives as he could manage. Aburdon had assisted with the design. Each device was a circular canister packed with enchanted crystals and explosive spells. They had all been stored inside Gleam's satchel. The moment they struck the ground, they detonated, each blast taking several mercenaries with it.

Fire and destruction consumed the entire gorge. The hired blades on the ridges had expected an easy slaughter. Instead, the first wave of detonations hurled them through the air like broken dolls. Stone shattered. Men screamed. Horses reared in panic as shockwaves slammed into their flanks.

"SHIELDS! SPREAD OUT!"

Varkas shouted with all his might, but spreading out inside a sealed ravine was easier said than done. Another row of magical bombs struck the opposite side of the gorge, cutting down the archers stationed there and sending fresh rockfall crashing into the chaos. The moment the last of the mercenaries entered the gorge, the true bombardment began.

Rusty crouched in place, his body absorbing the shock through the sheer thickness of his plated armor and the enchantments layered over it. This had been his plan from the start. He would act as bait, draw them in, and let Gleam destroy them from above. They had never expected an attack from the cliffs, and now they were dying like flies.

His life detection skill remained active. The group Varkas had arrived with numbered around fifteen, reduced to lure him in. With the hidden reinforcements, they had totaled close to forty men. Now they were barely half that, and the number continued to fall.

"Gleam is quite ferocious."

Alexander remarked from within his helmet as the screams continued beyond their shield.

"She would make a fine familiar for a demon lord."

Aburdon cackled while preparing for the next phase of the plan. The bombardment had wiped out many of the weaker fighters, but several enemies still remained. At last, the explosions ceased, and Gleam darted to a bare rock along the gorge wall. This was the moment Rusty had been waiting for. His shields shifted, replaced by his own frame and two others.

"Take care of the rest while I go after Varkas."

"Of course, my dear Rusty. Leave it to this demon lord. I shall slaughter them all."

Aburdon declared as his black armor emerged from the settling dust, blade already cutting toward a survivor.

"Leave it to us, Rusty."

Alexander said from within his white frame as he charged the remaining sub leader. The ambush had succeeded, but the battle was far from over.