Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory

Ethan stood where he was, staring at him coldly.

The whiplash was so violent Ethan didn’t even react at first.

Just moments ago, the one sitting on the throne had been a king who called everyone slaves, who ordered a mechanical army to haul them away for "reflection."

But that roar—

There hadn’t been even a trace of pretense in it.

A bitterness he couldn’t put into words rose in Ethan’s chest.

Like Zareth II hadn’t originally been like this.

Like becoming king, sitting on this throne, issuing those commands... none of it had truly been his own will.

More like something had forced him into this position.

Ethan walked up to Zareth II.

The king’s eyes were still open, but the light in them was gone.

Ethan reached out and gently closed them.

Then he turned and looked around.

The massive mechanical palace was still running.

The turrets were still adjusting their angles.

But the only thing here that still carried anything remotely human... was the body in front of him, already cooling.

Maybe Zareth II had been the only human in this entire country.

Ethan walked down the steps from the throne.

When he reached the floor, he saw the golden scepter that had been tossed aside.

It lay there silently.

Its surface was still carved with extravagant patterns, and the golden core set into its tip still glowed with a soft light.

Ethan stopped.

A powerful urge surged up from the depths of his mind.

Pick it up.

As long as he held that scepter, he could control the palace—control every weapon—and seize the accumulated power of this nation.

His fingers twitched.

At the same time, a sense of danger detonated inside him.

Don’t touch it.

The moment he picked it up, he’d fall into a fate beyond redemption.

Ethan stared at it for a few seconds, then finally pulled his hand back.

He turned and headed for the shield where his companions were.

He’d only taken a few steps when the golden scepter behind him suddenly trembled.

It lifted off the ground on its own.

The metal on one side bulged outward, then split into several cracks. Mouths grew from the ruptures, teeth packed together in dense, writhing rows.

On the other side, several slender arms stretched out.

The scepter let out a shriek like metal being torn apart and lunged, dragging its arms toward the pale-gold shield.

Smack!

All the hands slapped onto the shield at once.

The mouths snapped open and began chewing like mad, ripping away chunks of golden energy. Gaps bloomed across the shield’s surface.

The sight put the same thought into everyone’s head at the exact same time.

Erase it first.

Then freeze it.

Then burn it into ash.

Then do the whole process again.

Keep going until this thing is gone from the river of time for good.

Andona clearly felt the same.

Ten pairs of golden wings unfurled behind her as she rose above the shield. Light Force poured from between her feathers, condensing into a heavy pressure that slammed straight down onto the scepter gnawing at the barrier.

The scepter sensed the discomfort, and its screaming instantly climbed higher.

The piercing sound wave rolled through the palace. Every turret that wasn’t already destroyed rotated in response.

The next instant, they fired in unison.

Machine guns spat dense curtains of muzzle flash.

Magnetic-flow cannons blasted compressed energy into the center.

Blue-white lasers crisscrossed from multiple directions, all of them striking the golden shield around the group.

The explosions came one after another.

The shield caved inward again and again. Andona and Seraphine fed power into it at the same time, while everyone else poured their energy into the defense.

The scepter’s mouths kept tearing.

The turrets kept firing.

Gradually, the gunfire started to thin out.

The first to stop was a set of machine guns on one side.

Then the magnetic-flow cannons dimmed one by one. After the last blue-white laser swept across the shield, the entire palace fell back into silence.

The scepter—those mouths, those arms—was gone.

No fragments.

No leftover energy.

As if it had never existed.

Everyone looked up toward the throne.

Zareth II was still sitting there.

But huge sections of the golden armor had fallen away, and the body that had been preserved was now only a not-quite-complete skeleton.

Rhazek and Neisemann had vanished too.

Even the molten metal that had pooled on the floor was gone—nothing left behind.

Andona slowly withdrew the shield.

Ethan took a step toward the throne.

A blue laser shot in from the side.

He stopped instantly, retreating back into the defensive range. The beam scraped across the floor in front of him, leaving a long, scorched groove.

Ethan stared at the palace that was still running and spoke under his breath.

"Honestly... I should’ve figured it out earlier."

He thought about all the figures they’d encountered along the way.

The stiff gaits.

The fixed movements.

The bodies that changed shape without warning.

"Everyone here... they’re all War Machines."

Ethan lifted his gaze to the incomplete skeleton on the throne.

"In this whole country, I’m guessing Zareth II was the only one who still counted as human."

Just a moment ago, he’d still been holding onto a sliver of hope.

Maybe there were survivors.

Maybe these mechanical lives still contained real consciousness.

But now it was obvious—that had been nothing more than his own wishful thinking.

Brutal.

A sudden boom erupted from in front of the throne.

The entire golden throne was violently flipped up from below by some force. The heavy structure soared into the air and crashed down, smashing several nearby turrets into pieces.

At the same time, the palace’s rear gate glowed red-hot.

Purple-red flames spread along its seams. The metal doors melted rapidly, and the scalding liquid spilled onto the floor.

Both entrances opened at once.

Swarms of Rhazek poured out from beneath the throne.

On the other side, an equally staggering number of Neisemann stepped over the melted doorframe and marched neatly into the palace.

Another steel flood.

Ethan and the others were long past being surprised.

Ataneya’s five massive fox tails had already coiled around them, their tips pressed to the ground, poised to strike.

This wave of mechanical constructs all shared a uniform silver-white color scheme.

The Rhazek and Neisemann charging at the front no longer carried those bizarre weapons from before. In their hands were nothing but blades—knives, axes, and other close-combat edges.

The mechanical troops in the rear were equipped with terrifying ray devices, and firearms capable of twisting space-time.

The melee line pushed forward.

The ranged muzzles charged in sync.

Ethan gave a slight nod.

This was exactly the opening he’d been waiting for.

Before the first volley could fire, his body broke apart into black particles and streaked through the battlefield at high speed.

The machines tried to lock onto him.

Infrared and ray targeting chased the moving cloud of black grains, but they were always a step too slow. Ethan slipped past the front line of blades and axes, threaded between the guns in the rear, then reformed beside two constructs.

One Rhazek.

One Neisemann.

He pressed both palms to their bodies.

White lightning drilled into their metal shells, stunning both machines for an instant. He immediately yanked backward, dragging them out of the steel tide.

Andona spread her wings.

A pale-gold halo dropped from above, forming two layers of seals that wrapped the Rhazek and the Neisemann completely.

Capture successful.

Queen Elowen struck at the same moment.

She raised both hands, and deep-blue ice energy slammed downward.

The instant the cold touched the ground, it erupted outward. The silver-white mechanical army’s feet froze first. Ice crawled up their metal legs, rapidly swallowing their torsos and weapons.

The walls, turrets, molten metal, and the remaining decorations were sealed in ice as well.

The entire palace became a deep-blue frozen wasteland.

Even Ataneya’s fox tails coiled around the area didn’t escape.

Fur disappeared under frost as thick ice crusted over the surface. The five tails that had been so nimble turned into stiff лед lumps in the blink of an eye and slammed heavily onto the ground.

Ataneya shot Queen Elowen a helpless look.

She could only pull her tails back in.

The ice blocks knocked against each other with dull, heavy thuds.

Since her tails were unusable for now, she switched the power in her hands.

Infernal flames rose from her chest.

Layer after layer of crimson energy gathered, forming a small sphere that burned without pause. The fire compressed tight around its core, and the temperature spiked higher and higher.