Chapter 33

  Ethan watched them leave but other things were on his mind.

  The absence of the Observer's influence was... unsettling. Free from their presence, his mind was no longer weighed down by the suppression, but that freedom came with its own set of challenges. Thoughts—too many of them—rushed through his head. Unfiltered. Uncontrolled. It was a tidal wave of emotions he’d never quite dealt with before, and it was... a lot.

  I can’t deal with this right now.

  “Nope,” he muttered to himself, shoving the thoughts aside. “We’re doing something fun. No more big-picture cosmic nonsense. Let’s just focus on the dungeon.”

  He turned away from the entrance, moving deeper into the dimly lit workshop. The Strategist hummed to life behind him, its mechanical form flickering into existence, always present, ever observant.

  “You wish to ignore the larger issues, then?” The Strategist’s tone was as neutral as ever.

  “I’m choosing to not think about anything that involves Observers, divine plans, or the weird existential trap I’ve found myself in. My head is way too full right now,” Ethan muttered as he walked over to his workbench, pulling up schematics. “Let’s just do what we do best—making things.”

  “I see. This is a form of distraction?” The Strategist didn’t phrase it as a question, but it certainly sounded like one.

  “Exactly. I’m busy.” Ethan grabbed a few blueprints for the Combat Strider Mark IV and the new Gunslinger units he was working on. He laid them out across his workbench. “The Mark III combat striders have been good, but they’re too bulky. They need better mobility, better weapons, and a more stable core. And we need something to deal with ranged enemies.”

  The Strategist's lights flickered briefly as it processed the request. “You plan to build new combat units. Weapons... on combat striders?”

  “Yep,” Ethan said with a grin, clearly satisfied with his plan. “Something with punch. We’ll upgrade the Mark IVs first—give them better agility, better firepower—and then we’ll need a new class. A new ranged class. I’m thinking of something that uses firearms... sort of.”

  The Strategist’s head tilted, its mechanical gaze locking onto Ethan. “Firearms?”

  “Yeah.” Ethan waved a hand. “You know, guns. A mechanical weapon that uses force to launch a projectile.” He grinned wider. “I’m thinking something sleek. Fast. Like a crossbow but with—” He stopped himself as the Strategist processed the words.

  The Strategist was silent for a few long seconds. Then it blinked. “Guns?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. Guns. A firearm.” Ethan nodded, not really waiting for the Strategist to catch up. “Like a crossbow... but way cooler and more explosive.”

  The Strategist buzzed with confusion. “I am familiar with crossbows. You intend to add explosives to a ranged weapon? But... crossbows do not use explosions, only tension...”

  Ethan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. Let me simplify.” He pointed to a nearby scrap of metal and smirked. “Imagine this: You have a barrel, right? And inside the barrel, you have a small explosion. That explosion pushes something—a metal bullet—through the barrel and out the front, fast enough to pierce armor.”

  The Strategist’s mechanical face twitched. “Explosions in a confined space... This seems... dangerous.” There was a pause. “Also, where do these metal projectiles go after being launched? Do they... return?”

  Ethan stared at the Strategist for a moment before shaking his head. “No, they don’t return. They go forward. The projectile hits whatever target you're aiming at. That’s the point.” He scratched his chin. “It’s not like a crossbow bolt—it’s faster, stronger, and it doesn’t rely on tension. It uses... uh, chemical reactions to propel the projectile.”

  The Strategist’s lights flickered again. “Chemical reactions? Like mana?”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “No, not like mana,” Ethan said, trying his best to explain. “It’s a totally different kind of force. It’s... a gunpowder reaction. It’s like a mini-explosion that happens in a confined space, creating a force that pushes the projectile out. We’ll need a barrel to contain the blast. It’s pretty straightforward.”

  “I see...” The Strategist didn’t sound convinced. “But this is something you intend to develop?”

  Ethan shrugged. “Why not? Gotta stay ahead of the game. These striders will need more than just their fists if we’re going to fend off adventurers coming through here. Besides, I like the idea of blowing stuff up. So why not?” He added with a wry grin, “And trust me, it’s not as dangerous as it sounds.”

  The Strategist’s gaze seemed to scan the entire workshop as if trying to discern if Ethan had gone completely mad. It didn’t comment immediately.

  Ethan stretched, his fingers cracking as he shifted his attention back to the Combat Strider Mark IV design. “Let’s start with this. We’ll improve their joints, add better sensors, and most importantly, add something for them to do when adventurers come through.” He stared at the schematics. “A little upgrade in their firepower... and we’ll be good to go.”

  ____

  Hours later, Ethan was elbow-deep in metal, welding new components into place. The sound of his tools echoed through the chamber, a constant reminder of just how busy he had become. The Strategist hovered nearby, occasionally offering input, though it was mostly limited to technicalities.

  “So, I’ve been thinking,” Ethan said absently as he adjusted a hydraulic piston on the strider’s leg. “We could throw in some elemental traps too. Nothing too fancy, but maybe some fire or lightning. You know, to make sure the adventurers know we mean business.”

  “A logical inclusion,” the Strategist replied. “However, elemental magic will require increased power output. The design will need to be recalibrated for energy efficiency.”

  Ethan gave a nonchalant wave. “Fine, I’ll tweak it. And while we’re at it, let’s test the new strider on floor four. I’m getting the feeling it’ll be a crowd-pleaser.” He paused, looking around the workshop. “I’ll need to upgrade the dungeons’ traps too. Time to put in some real work.”

  ___

  Meanwhile, in the towering, opulent halls of the Imperial Palace of the Saurian Empire, the Grand Vizier hurried through the polished corridors. The air was thick with tension as the Emperor awaited him in his private chambers. The Emperor, standing like an immovable mountain, radiated the terrifying presence of a man at the peak of the Sage Tier—his power so great it was said that even the greatest of Saints trembled in his wake. His mind, too, was sharper than any mortal’s, and only the most ancient of beings could rival him.

  “Your Radiance, the reports from the Church have arrived,” the Vizier said, his voice trembling ever so slightly as he bowed low before the Emperor.

  The Emperor’s eyes narrowed, annoyance flashing across his face. “What of it?Another on their requests to build yet another temple?

  “Your Radiance,” the Grand Vizier began, bowing low as he approached the Emperor. “The Church has declared a dungeon... holy.”

  The Emperor paused, his eyes narrowing, a ripple of disbelief flashing across his face. “What did you say?”

  The Vizier repeated himself, more cautiously this time, “They’ve declared a dungeon sacred. Holy. The pilgrims are already on their way—offerings, sacrifices... everything. They believe it’s connected to the Observers.”

  The Emperor’s expression shifted as the Vizier spoke, but it wasn’t disbelief or anger this time. It was something else—something approaching excitement.

  “The Church... they’ve declared a dungeon holy?” The Emperor raised an eyebrow, still processing the news. “And you say they believe the Observers are involved?”

  “Yes, Your Radiance. They’ve declared it sacred. Pilgrims are already making their way there with offerings and sacrifices, treating it as a divine site. The Church believes the Observers have chosen this dungeon as their vessel.”

  The Emperor's lips twitched into a small, bemused smile. “The Observers... finally reaching out. I’ve waited for this day. They’ve always kept their distance, even from us. But now, to send their blessing to a dungeon? That is... unexpected.”

  The Vizier, cautious as ever, continued, “There’s more. The dungeon is reported to be creating enchanted gear, and... it can talk.”

  The Emperor's smile faltered as he processed the new information. “Talk? A dungeon?” He scoffed. “It seems absurd, but... if the Observers are behind it, then it must be real. Why else would they choose such a vessel?”

  The Vizier nodded, a little relieved by the Emperor’s reaction. “The Church certainly believes so, Your Radiance. They think this is a sign—a direct communication. Even with the knowledge that the dungeon is only Peak Mortal Realm, the Church is treating it like a sacred site, sending offerings and worshippers.”

  The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels turning in his mind. “A Peak Mortal Realm dungeon... and it creates enchanted gear. Interesting. But they seem to be under the impression that this is some grand, divine blessing. For them to so eagerly embrace it without question...” He paused, considering. “Perhaps there is something they don’t fully understand. This might be more than just a blessing. It could be a test.”

  The Vizier hesitated. “A test?”

  “Yes,” the Emperor said with a slow grin. “The Observers do love their tests. It’s possible they’ve chosen this dungeon as a way of interacting with the world—without revealing their full hand. And now, the Church is playing right into it.”

  The Vizier bowed. “What would you have us do, Your Radiance?”

  “Send an emissary,” the Emperor said, turning toward the large windows of his palace, gazing out over the vast Saurian Empire. “I want a full investigation. We’ll see exactly what this dungeon is capable of—and if the Observers are truly behind it, we’ll find out how to use it to our own advantage.