“Sperose, open the gate, and I’ll let you live,” Wang Yue said, her wand leveled at the spider-girl.
“I can’t open it… Master will punish me… Master is… terrifying…” Sperose began to tremble, every mechanical component in her body rattling in sympathy.
“Then there’s nothing more to say.”
Wang Yue pinned the spider-girl’s back with her foot. Ignoring the girl’s frantic wails and pleas, she forced her High-Frequency Particle Blade into the chassis to begin the dismantling.
She tore away the metal plating with brutal efficiency, tossing the heavy scraps aside. They hit the floor with echoing thuds, soon exposing the intricate internal machinery. Wang Yue shredded any gears or transmission systems that weren’t her target, sending a shower of metal shards clattering onto the ground.
She pushed forward with unstoppable momentum until she finally cracked open the reinforced central cavity. Inside lay three strange, exquisite Clockwork Hearts.
“Ah—!” Sperose cried out in despair, shielding her face with her hands.
The hearts consisted of one large unit flanked by two smaller ones in a symmetrical arrangement, all encased in a protective glass shell. Brass antennae, resembling those of a longhorn beetle, extended through the glass to connect with the main frame.
These three hearts were a marvel of complexity—a dense mesh of gears, bearings, balance wheels, and springs. Within that mechanical core, strings, striking springs, picks, and tiny hammers played in concert, filling the space with a faint, melodic music.
While Wang Yue dismantled the spider-girl, Medeili stood guard, clearing out the lingering mechanical minions.
Her hands slick with engine oil, Wang Yue finally located the key mechanism. She removed a section of the control assembly and turned a gear that looked utterly unremarkable among the thousands of others. A hidden driveshaft extended, triggering a series of internal locks through the labyrinthine structure until it reached the girl’s palm.
A sliding panel in Sperose’s palm retracted and rotated, forcing out a complex, wedge-shaped key.
“So, it was hidden here.”
Under Sperose’s despairing gaze, Wang Yue severed the girl’s wrist and claimed the key.
Despite securing the item, Wang Yue’s expression did not soften. Instead, it grew increasingly grim. From the Maple Leaf Slash to her repeated use of shields, followed by the grueling duel with the spider-girl, her mana was completely depleted.
I hope there isn’t another fight… otherwise…
The gate creaked open, revealing a path shrouded in cold mist. The two girls pressed on without hesitation, moving through the fog until they reached the base of the Spiral Spire.
To their surprise, while the Spire possessed a staircase, it lacked traditional floors. Looking down, they saw a bottomless pit filled with a hoard of raw materials—metal, celluloid, silk, wood, crystal, and vast quantities of Transcendent Materials.
Looking up, a single, straight pillar stretched toward the summit. Thick metal pipes dangled from above like vines in a mechanical rainforest, dripping engine oil onto the abyss below.
They spotted the Lesser Lord’s true form immediately.
It was a gargantuan Clockwork Heart, over two meters in diameter, suspended in mid-air by a web of metal pipes. It was infinitely more massive and complex than the hearts within Sperose’s chest. To Wang Yue, the logic of its operation was incomprehensible; it looked like nothing more than a mass of mechanical constructs pulsating at varying frequencies.
The Lesser Lord also possessed a silver face—a massive, metallic mask with hollow eyes and soft, feminine lines. It was held aloft by countless pipes and struts, hovering directly above the primary heart. It was a cold, eerie, and clumsy imitation of humanity.
Wang Yue’s gaze shifted to a stone platform extending from the inner wall of the Spire. It was an open-air living space, complete with furniture and potted plants. An elderly figure lived there, their hair white as snow. It was impossible to tell if the elder was a man or a woman. A copper-alloy hose and a neural plug, identical to the ones in the conservatory, were connected to the back of their neck.
The elder had only recently died. Their flesh was sagging and translucent, appearing as if it might slough off at any moment. The stench of rot and engine oil permeated the Spire.
The mysteries within the tower would have to wait. The immediate problem was that the Lesser Lord was still very much alive.
Strange, continuous strings of words spilled from the silver mask. Individually, the phrases were intelligible, but when combined, they made no sense. It seemed the Lesser Lord was currently attempting to repair and recalibrate its cognitive core. Several mechanical arms were busy at a small access window on the front of the giant heart, adjusting the internal structure.
“Invaders… attack…” The Lesser Lord seemed to have recovered enough cognition to reach a combat conclusion.
The girls’ faces turned pale as they watched hundreds of mechanical arms rise simultaneously.
“Report your mana,” Wang Yue said, her voice dropping.
“I have half left… what about you?” Medeili glanced at Wang Yue, only to find the black-haired girl looking dazed. “What’s wrong? You…” Medeili felt a sudden spike of dread; her heart began to race.
“I’m out of mana, Plum.” Wang Yue gritted her teeth, her voice a mix of resentment and desolation. She murmured, “I’m useless now.”
“Yue…” Medeili stared at her, stunned.
Wang Yue’s body suddenly went rigid, her eyes widening before she slowly relaxed. Suppressing the tremor in her voice, she said, “I know it’s hard for you to use the Sea Demon’s power in a place without water. So, use my blood. Even after I die, I can remain active as a corpse for a long time. In the end… we will win.”
“What are you saying? I can’t possibly—”
“Trust my judgment. Command Spell, activate!”
“No! No!” Medeili screamed.
As the fish-shaped mark on her forearm glowed with light, her fingers rose against her will. She reached toward Wang Yue’s carotid artery. From a tiny red prick, she pulled out a ribbon of vivid, piercing crimson!
A tragic, beautiful magic blossomed at her fingertips.
Wang Yue’s body first went cold, as if an autumn chill had seeped into her bones. Her skin felt numb and icy. Then, her chest felt constricted; she struggled for breath as a sharp, wringing pain stabbed at her heart.
Is this what death feels like?
She stumbled back two steps, regained her footing, and looked at the sobbing, nearly broken Medeili.
“I cannot do nothing,” Wang Yue said. “I won’t accept being just a ‘normal’ person, pathetic and curled up to avoid the crossfire. I don’t want to live a shameful life. Please, allow me to die with pride.”
Great tears welled in Medeili’s eyes, rolling down her pale face to gather at her chin, forming a large, shimmering sphere of clear liquid. Guilt and self-loathing took hold of her. She trembled violently, tearing at her hair and screaming, “It’s my fault for being so useless! I’m a failure! I’m holding you back! Why am I so useless?!”
“Don’t be sad. Fight. And then, live.”
Wang Yue’s shadow stretched and warped, leaping up from the ground to coil around her body, twisting her already slender silhouette into something even thinner. Her hands transformed into razor-sharp ghost claws, and her hair flattened into black, blade-like shards.
She looked up. With a shrill, piercing shriek, countless mechanical claws swarmed toward them like a falling sky.
She bent her knees and performed a Blast Leap, weaving through the high-speed, dense net of claws. Her physical capabilities had already surged far beyond human limits. Though a single misstep would result in her being crushed to dust, a dead person has no reason to fear.
At least… at least let Plum live…
She’s so cute…
Plum…
I really want to kiss her…
Sharp pain radiated from every inch of her body, like steel rods piercing through her flesh. Her brain felt as though it were being slowly crushed by an iron band. The agonizing, splitting headache nearly drove her mad.
Despite being technically dead, she could still feel the pain. The massive burden of driving a human body with Mystic Arts was an incomparable torture. Wang Yue bit down hard enough to shatter her teeth, suppressing the urge to let go and die truly. She fought to endure just a little longer, to create one more opening for Medeili to survive.
She sprinted along the pipelines at high speed, her feet seemingly glued to the metal.
Finally, Medeili snapped out of her trance. This was Wang Yue’s decision—the Gingerbread Man was offering her the very best part of itself.
Medeili’s pupils dilated, her face a mask of hollow shock. She didn’t dare think further, terrified that the sheer weight of despair and pain would shatter her resolve and make Wang Yue’s sacrifice meaningless.
Emptying her mind, she gripped her wand and ignited the High-Frequency Particle Blade. Her mana was dangerously low; between the blade and the upcoming Blast Leap, she was down to her final ten percent.
A dozen eerie, transparent spheres of blood orbited her—Wang Yue’s blood, barely four liters in total. One sphere moved beneath her foot. She kicked off it with all her might, and her body shot forward.
The elasticity of the Living Water propelled her to a terrifying velocity. Medeili transformed into a crimson arrow, flying straight for the giant Clockwork Heart.
Wang Yue acted as her wingman, flashing in zig-zags between the pipes. Her claws clashed with the mechanical arms that roamed like dragons, creating ear-splitting explosions and a shower of brilliant sparks.
“Go! Plum!”
Wang Yue let out a roar, intercepting a mechanical claw intended for Medeili. She was caught in mid-air. With a muffled groan, her chest collapsed, her ribs shattering as white bone fragments pierced through her skin.
“Ahhh!”
Medeili’s eyes snapped wide, blood-tears streaming down her face. A crimson ribbon of blood swirled around her, her high-speed water blades severing every mechanical arm that dared block her path. Finally, amidst the intoxicating scent of blood, she reached the giant Clockwork Heart.
She plunged her High-Frequency Particle Blade—and her entire arm—straight into its core.
