Chapitre 19: The Holy Vanguard
Edwin stood at the heart of his workshop, the dim lighting reflecting off rows of towering mechanical knights. Each unit had undergone his meticulous scrutiny, upgraded from their initial prototypes into a design that would not only intimidate on the battlefield but inspire awe among those who witnessed them.
The knights, now fully assembled and polished, stood over seven feet tall, their bodies encased in seamless white armor trimmed with golden accents. The plating covered every inch of their frames, creating an impenetrable facade of elegance and might. The design was so intricate, so impossibly smooth, that any observer would be left wondering how such armor could have been forged, let alone fitted.
To complete the look, Edwin had crafted cloaks of pristine white fabric edged with delicate gold embroidery. Each cloak bore the sigil of the Umbracrest family—a subtle nod to their origins, though Edwin cared little for the connection. The cloaks flowed gracefully behind the knights, hoods raised to conceal their non-human features.
As Edwin took a step back to admire his work, a rare flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. The knights stood in perfect formation, their cloaked figures exuding an almost divine presence.
"If anyone saw them now," Edwin mused, wiping a smudge of grease from his gloves, "they'd think I had summoned the imperial knights of some ancient holy empire."
The AI chimed in, its voice calm and precise. "Observation: Current aesthetic surpasses all known regional military standards. Hypothesis: The armor design will likely lead observers to mistake the knights for human soldiers of unparalleled rank."
Edwin smirked. "Good. Let them wonder. Confusion is a weapon in itself."
Before finalizing the batch, Edwin wanted one last demonstration of their coordination and capabilities. He activated a command module built into the central console of his workshop.
"Formation: Vanguard. Weapons at the ready," Edwin ordered.
The knights moved as one, their synchronized precision almost unnatural. Each drew a gleaming longsword, its blade imbued with a faint blue glow from the energy coursing through their cores. The sound of metal unsheathing filled the air, a harmonious blend of elegance and menace.
"AI, status report on their synchronization levels," Edwin asked, his gaze fixed on the marching formation.
"Synchronization at 98%. Current combat efficiency aligns with silver-rank knights. Tactical adaptability surpasses initial expectations."
Edwin watched as the knights completed their drills. Every motion, from the way they raised their swords to the way their cloaks billowed behind them, was flawless. They looked less like machines and more like a force of divine warriors descended to enforce their will.
Once the drills were complete, Edwin gave a simple command: "Stand by."
The knights halted in unison, their swords lowered but ready. Even in stillness, their presence was overwhelming.
With the completion of this batch, Edwin had successfully created 200 mechanical silver knights. They were the culmination of his relentless effort, combining his ingenuity with the resources he had gathered. Yet, as he surveyed them, he knew this was only the beginning.
These knights weren't just tools—they were symbols. Symbols of the power he was building, power that would ensure he would never again be subject to the whims of others.
Satisfied, Edwin began preparations for storage. The knights were carefully transferred to a sealed chamber beneath the workshop, where they would remain until the time came to deploy them.
As he worked, the thought crossed his mind: No one will ever see this coming.
The following morning, Edwin was interrupted by a loud knock on his workshop door. He frowned—few dared to disturb him when he was working.
"Enter," he said curtly.
One of the castle's stewards stepped inside, looking uneasy. "Young Master Edwin, news has arrived regarding the baron's party."
Edwin's gaze sharpened. "What news?"
The steward hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "A messenger reported that the baron, Sir Cedric, and Lady Eleanor encountered some… disaster on their journey back. The details are unclear, but the commander has already dispatched knights to investigate."
For a moment, Edwin said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, he waved the steward away. "Leave."
The door closed, and Edwin leaned against his workbench, his mind racing. A disaster? What kind of disaster could delay not only his father but Cedric and Eleanor as well? They were far from incompetent, and their entourage should have been more than capable of handling most threats.
He clenched his fist, a rare surge of irritation rising within him. Whatever this disaster was, it had disrupted his carefully laid plans.
"AI," he said, his voice cold and calculating, "prioritize the readiness of all active units. I want the next 50 knights fully operational by the end of the day."
The AI acknowledged the command, its tone neutral. "Affirmative. Adjusting workflow for expedited deployment."
Edwin's gaze shifted to the storage chamber where the knights were stored. He would wait for more information before acting, but one thing was certain: if the Umbracrest family's troubles escalated, his creations would be ready to protect his interests—and his alone.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone