Beauty X Beast ~ Thirty-Four!

Gasteel’s bellow of rage was accompanied with his battalion surging forward, their anger a near-physical thing on behalf of their liege lord. The automatons immediately responded with everything they could bring to bear, scythes swinging out, mauls cracking into shield or flesh, and flames billowing into huge clouds and forcing men away. As intense as the initial attacks were, the humans weathered it easily. 

Running back toward where she was supposed to be pulling cores out of sentient automatons, Danielle's eyes widened in realization of who was actually fighting against the invaders.

Currently, the most combat-effective guards were closest to the entrance, but only perhaps half of them were designed for fighting. The other half had been made for utility, cutting plants, gardening, smashing stubborn rocks for landscaping and the like. Even as conscripts, Gasteel Company had at least been trained in some tactics, given effective weapons, and were working together in a way that none of the house guards were able to do.

Still, they put in immense effort, unafraid of being destroyed. This allowed each of the creations to hold their position longer than a human of similar strength and skill would, draining the attackers stamina and slowing their advance. Unfortunately, the aggressive forces weren’t to be underestimated. As the soldiers gained ground, their more veteran members pushed forward with better command of their weapons, as well as using actual combat system-skills.

These seasoned warriors brought their power and experience to bear against the automatons, and with coordinated strikes, they began to send flechettes of metal flying from each point of impact, the tiny projectiles torn directly from the falling house guards. Step after step, they pushed deeper into the house, forcing a breach in the defensive line while also allowing more of their people to flood into the grand hallway and set up their own formations. 

A massive blast of fire—which would’ve bruleed at least half a dozen people—was intercepted as a soldier with glowing hands stepped forward and caught the burning gases as though they were a solid object. He twisted and returned the stream into the ranks of the metal defenders as a collected ball of flame, the impact melting his opponents and sending machine after machine crashing to the ground as a heap of molten slag. Immediately following his successful counter, the man stepped back into the line of attackers and melted into the crowd.

“Woo, get ‘em!”

“On your left! Shield up!”

“I can do this all day, all day!” 

“Tell everyone else to take a break, we've got this. Twenty minutes, in and out.” 

The shouting and carousing quickly became drowned out by the sound of dozens, then hundreds of sabatons slapping against stone. Metal soldiers, which had been the bane of three kingdoms less than a decade previous, began pouring into the grand hallway, a massive formation moving in lockstep as they marched out of the underground workshop. They expanded across the entirety of the open space, and soon, hundreds of them were in position and marching toward the entrance as a wall of sharpened metal with no gaps to slip through.

Their synchronized movements made it difficult to select an individual target, and chaos unfolded as the clash of steel against stone was followed by steel against steel… then flesh. The screams of tortured alloys and wounded people filled the air, a cacophony of sound which drowned out any individual words, shouts, or furious orders. 

Danielle’s heart hammered in her chest as her eyes locked onto the pristine white floors, now marred by thick streaks of oil mingling with dark, crimson blood. The new paintings on the walls, once vibrant and full of imagination and the wonder of new, artificial minds, were splattered with the same macabre mixture, their colors distorted and melting from the gruesome sludge. 

Her vision blurred with the shock as she realized that humans had been cut down, and this ruckus had barely even begun. She stumbled out of the grand hallway, away from the raging battle and the absolutely unnecessary bloodshed. With nerveless fingers, she began grabbing from the pile of blank cores that had been accruing in her absence, rushing them over to the advanced frames of the automatons that were now unmoving and unpowered. “Was I so naive in thinking we could manage to escape without anyone getting hurt?” 

Her hands shook as she slotted the blanks into the waiting cartridge, closing it manually and stepping away as the rest of the machine came to life and pulled itself together before trundling off to join the fight. 

A glance at Comte Kota revealed a man working furiously, using all the tools at his disposal with immense skill. He didn't wait for the automatons to line up nicely and arrange themselves in an orderly manner. No, he had cables wrapped around himself, and upon pulling out an advanced core, would fling himself backward without a glance—fully trusting in his creations and own skills. He would leave the ground for a brief moment, only to be twisted and gently deposited in front of the next waiting machine. 

When his hands started to get full, he’d throw himself over to the table, grab his stylus, and quickly adjust the scripting. As he started on that process, Danielle forced herself to look away, knowing it was dangerous for her to see the raw system energy. Somehow, seeing the Artificer moving with such confidence gave her back some of her own, “Come on, focus! Every second counts, and the longer I wait, the fewer we're going to be able to save.”

Even so, she couldn't help but listen intently as the battle raged on out in the hallway, the tide shifting back and forth as each side fought with everything they had in them. Between their training and system-granted skills, the aggressive humans continued to press the attack and gain ground ever so slowly. But Danielle had seen some of the images of how the metal soldiers worked, and she knew they would be responding with unyielding force, a shield thousands strong that would never stop trying to protect their creator, unless they’d been fully destroyed. 

As minutes passed, some of her adrenaline faded away, and Danielle was able to get into the rhythm of slotting cores into position. A short while after her return, there was a steady stream of sentient machines entering the room and basic, mindless versions marching those old bodies out. Entering almost a fugue state, she simply moved, swapped, and closed slots. Scores of machines were rescued, but between one replacement and the next, the battle took an unfortunate turn.

Danielle felt it in her ears first, a shift in air pressure that caused a wave of vertigo to rush through her. A heartbeat later, a howling wind filled the building, smacking the troops away from each other and causing the tightly packed metal soldiers to sway back on their heels. Worst, it blasted open all doors not fully closed and latched—including the dining room she and the Artificer were furiously working in. 

Danielle was sent stumbling from the angled force of the wind, hard enough that she nearly dropped the runescripted core she’d been trusted with. She had to juggle for a moment before finally managing to close her hands around it, and by the time she heaved a sigh of relief, she was fully back in the moment. 

The Enchantress glanced toward the door, puzzled by the sudden lull. The air, still swirling with tension, was quickly filling with both the groans of the wounded as well as the creaking of rusty joints as the automatons began to move again. Before she could even think of resuming her task, Gasteel’s voice echoed through the open space, carried by the wind.

“Comte LeKrout, you will show yourself this very moment, or I will immediately call upon your oath! You have five seconds! Four… three…”

Danielle bit off her cry of alarm as she watched the Artificer smoothly flipping through the air toward the open door. There was no hesitation as he landed and proudly stepped into the hallway, his posture perfect as he looked down the huge corridor with disdain. “I'm here, baron. Save your threats for the enemy. How dare you invade my home? This is a direct violation of the code of conduct for Verdelune nobility, chapter six, paragraph four-”

“I won’t hear another word!” Gasteel’s indignant bellow echoed off every hard surface, his voice rising with a fervent intensity. “This! This is the reason our kingdom has gotten so weak. Words, rules, etiquette. I'm sick of it. Fighting with words is the way of the weak, for those who lack the strength of arm to take what they desire.”

“Laws are in place for civilization, and it is agreeing to a common understanding that we can trust that allows us to live better lives without losing it to some passing animal.” The way the Artificer riposted with his words made it clear he was equating the baron to little more than slavering vermin, but Gasteel was in no state to understand.

“You know what I've seen? I've seen myself become stronger and better while lesser men hide behind their laws and treaties, shackling themselves and everyone around them with their own cowardice!” As the two leaders spoke, the combatants held their position in an uneasy stalemate, but the baron’s words began to riling his people up right to the edge of reigniting the conflict. “But I… I will change that, for me and my trusted peers.”

Baron Gasteel started pacing back and forth as he spewed his thoughts. “Power belongs to those who can wield it, to those who are willing to throw off the constraints forced upon them by the whims of the feeble. Why should I, a man of strength and vision, be held back by the rules of lesser men of higher social rank who’ve never even seen a battlefield?” 

Gasteel stepped forward, and a wave of sharpened swords rose into the air as nearly a thousand metal soldiers prepared to cut him down if he did so again. LeKrout casually and dismissively replied, “You're not running a mercenary company, Gasteel. What it truly sounds like is that you should defect and join the Brute kingdom. It sounds like you want exactly what they’re offering.” 

“Maybe they’ve figured it out-”

“Do it,” LeKrout called back, a crooked smile on his face as he waved at the door behind Gasteel. “Power, might makes right. Sounds right up your alley. Just go. I'll even donate to the cause and tell you exactly which rule you need to invoke to give up your nobility and status. As a baron, the backlash will be miniscule. Go live the life you actually want to live, without having to bow your head to anyone who isn't stronger than you are.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” A wide, manic smile was on the baron's face, and he nodded approvingly at the Comte. He waved at Danielle, who had poked her head into the hallway, “You clearly aren’t shy about taking what’s mine. But unlike those ineffectual fools at the capitol, I'm not shy about taking it back! I challenge you to an honor duel, so I can prove once and for all that I’m the better man and the better choice. Once I've beaten you into the stonework, I'll step back before I've finished the job… and allow you to fill out my army with these metal soldiers.”

“Sure, Baron,” the Artificer agreed with a wicked grin as Danielle's jaw dropped. “It's been a while since I threw my weight around. I'd be happy to show you that I didn't rise two ranks in the nobility by accident.”

“The duel is set, then. Get over here, and let's get it started.” Gasteel cracked his neck side to side, hefting his sword and stepping forward menacingly. Bronze light washed over both of them, signifying a kingdom-witnessed legal agreement between the duo. 

“By the way, I'm going to point at the Code of Conduct… chapter fourteen, paragraph twenty-six, and fight you through my proxy champion.” 

As the Artificer finished speaking, the Beast was lowered from the ceiling by the pulley system and slowly stood to his full height in front of the baron, towering over the man by a good two feet. 

“I'm sure a big, strong man such as yourself has no problem with that… so let's get started.”