Chapter 80: The Ashen Apple and the Dying Factory

  The sheer, overwhelming intensity of the violet alchemical fire was absolutely terrifying. It wasn't a normal, natural flame; it was pure, highly concentrated magical corrosion designed entirely to melt solid rock and completely incinerate organic matter into ash within seconds.

  The devastating blast struck Zeno directly, completely washing over his massive frame and entirely obscuring him in a blinding vortex of violent purple light and thick, black smoke.

  Lyra, currently engaged in a desperate, high-speed duel with five assassins simultaneously, glanced over her shoulder and screamed in sheer, unadulterated panic as she saw the boy entirely consumed by the roaring violet inferno. She coughed violently, a spray of red dotting the stone floor as her chest seized, the pink spores feeding on her panic.

  "Zeno!" she yelled, entirely ready to abandon her defensive perimeter and dive directly into the lethal flames.

  But as the King finally ceased his attack, cutting off the pressurized flow of chemical fuel from his gauntlet, the heavy smoke and violet flames rapidly cleared.

  Zeno was still standing exactly where he had been.

  His dark red Crimson Spider-Silk tunic had completely held its structural integrity, absolutely refusing to melt or burn away, but it was entirely blackened and heavily scorched by the intense chemical reaction. His heavy leather pants were singed, and the thick canvas scarf around his neck was completely reduced to falling grey ash, but his dark Mountain Bear wraps and massive Rock Serpent gauntlets were entirely untouched.

  Zeno coughed loudly, waving a massive hand to clear the acrid, toxic smoke from his face. His jet-black hair was slightly singed at the tips, but his skin was completely, entirely uninjured.

  He looked down at his ruined, blackened tunic. He didn't smile. A genuine, deeply sad pout crossed his face, entirely ignoring the lethal threat standing before him.

  "You burned the apple color!" Zeno complained loudly, his voice filled with genuine, childlike frustration. He brushed angrily at the thick black soot completely covering his chest. "Now I look exactly like a piece of burnt coal, not a shiny red Vanguard! Lyra paid an entire fortune to make me look incredibly good, and you just completely ruined her very nice gift. That is incredibly rude!"

  The Syndicate King stood perfectly still, the glowing violet liquid in his glass helm swirling violently, his internal systems completely unable to process the total, impossible failure of his primary heavy weapon against an unarmored biological target.

  "Impossible," the filtered, metallic voice echoed, tinged with the very first hint of genuine, human disbelief. "Complete biological incineration should have occurred within exactly three point two seconds."

  "I have a very high Endurance," Zeno explained, his amber eyes narrowing with focused intent. "And now I am very annoyed."

  Zeno didn't wait for the King to recalculate his attack vectors. He completely changed his tactical approach. If he couldn't crack the thick iron armor with rapid strikes, he needed to bypass the plating entirely.

  He engaged his Flowing Step, entirely abandoning his usual straight-forward brawling style. He moved with the terrifying, erratic speed of a cornered predator, completely confusing the King's slow, mechanical targeting systems.

  The King roared, pivoting heavily and bringing his massive, fused violet-crystal greatsword down in a completely devastating, vertical overhead strike intended to crush the boy into the stone.

  Zeno didn't dodge. He stood his ground, raised both of his massive, spiked Rock Serpent gauntlets, and caught the descending, glowing crystal blade directly between his palms.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  SCREECH-CLANG!

  Sparks flew wildly as the incredibly dense obsidian spikes ground violently against the corrupted crystal. Zeno’s boots cracked the stone floor beneath him, but he completely halted the massive blade's momentum.

  He didn't try to push it back. Utilizing the locked blade and the King's massive, rigidly extended armored arm as a physical ramp, Zeno sprinted violently upward. He ran three steps directly up the King's heavy iron arm and vaulted flawlessly over the giant's shoulder, landing squarely on his broad, armored back.

  Zeno’s highly analytical eyes locked instantly onto the massive industrial weak point. Running entirely down the spine of the heavy armor were four thick, pulsing, reinforced alchemical tubes, actively circulating the glowing violet liquid from the heavy tanks on his back directly into the brass-and-glass helm.

  If a river is flooding the house, you put a rock in the river.

  "I found your rivers," Zeno announced firmly.

  He wrapped his thick left arm entirely around the King's thick iron neck, completely securing himself. He raised his right Rock Serpent gauntlet. He didn't aim for the thick iron plating. He drove his jagged, razor-sharp obsidian spikes directly into the thick, reinforced hosing.

  He didn't just puncture them. He twisted his wrist violently, using his massive Strength stat of 26 to completely and utterly rip the heavy hoses entirely out of their secured, pressurized sockets.

  HISS-POP!

  A massive, violent geyser of highly pressurized, highly toxic violet liquid erupted completely out of the severed tubes, spraying wildly across the stone floor of the courtyard.

  The immediate mechanical result was catastrophic.

  The glowing violet liquid inside the King's heavy brass-and-glass helm began to rapidly, violently drain away, completely starving him of his corrupted, chemical oxygen supply. The heavy, pulsing light within his fused crystal greatsword violently flickered and died entirely, turning the lethal weapon back into a useless, heavy chunk of dull glass.

  The massive industrial suit, completely deprived of its raw alchemical power source and internal pressure, entirely locked up. The heavy, hydraulic joints hissed violently and completely seized, freezing the King entirely in place like a massive iron statue.

  Zeno dropped off the immobilized King's back, landing lightly on the stone floor.

  The King let out a horrifying, wet, completely human gasp of pure, agonizing suffocation from within the draining glass helm. His heavy, armored hands desperately, frantically clawed at the brass fittings of his own mask, entirely trying to rip it off to breathe real, untainted air.

  "You should absolutely not wear a fishbowl on your head if you don't know how to swim in it," Zeno advised him cheerfully, completely unbothered by the man's desperate struggle.

  Zeno took a step back, widening his stance, and pulled a massive, entirely final surge of blue Tena directly into his right arm.

  "Sledgehammer," Zeno stated simply.

  He delivered a flawless, devastating, fully powered straight punch directly into the absolute center of the heavy glass faceplate.

  CRASH-SHATTER!

  The reinforced alchemical glass entirely exploded inward under the sheer, catastrophic kinetic force. The heavy brass helm was completely crushed open.

  Zeno expected a terrifying, scarred monster to be revealed. Instead, falling out of the ruined collar of the massive iron suit was an incredibly sickly, emaciated, pale young man. His skin was completely translucent, mapped with bulging, sickly violet veins, entirely sustained and mutated by the toxic chemicals he had been breathing. He possessed no natural strength; he was just a frail, sick man relying entirely on a machine.

  The young man collapsed entirely out of the broken suit, landing heavily on the stone floor. He looked up at Zeno and Lyra with weak, milky eyes, coughing up a mouthful of dark, toxic fluid.

  "You... you stopped the factory..." the Syndicate King wheezed, his voice a bitter, pathetic rattle, completely devoid of its previous mechanical terror. He smiled, a horrific, bloody grimace. "But the customers... the customers have already paid..."

  His eyes rolled back, and he died on the cold stone floor, taking the identity of his mysterious buyers to the grave.

  The remaining assassins didn't flee simply because their leader had fallen. As the King died, the severed, pressurized tubes from his suit began violently spraying a highly reactive, corrosive violet gas across the courtyard. Simultaneously, deep within the vault, the ruined reactor core began a catastrophic chemical chain reaction with the ambient gas.

  "Meltdown!" an assassin screamed in absolute terror. "The core is collapsing! Run!"

  The operatives completely abandoned the fight, dropping their useless weapons and sprinting frantically toward the massive exit tunnels to save their own lives from the impending chemical explosion.

  Lyra stumbled forward, coughing violently, clutching her chest as she reached Zeno.

  "We need to leave, right now!" Lyra wheezed, leaning heavily against his arm. "The entire factory is going to consume itself in toxic fire!"

  Zeno didn't hesitate. He grabbed his heavy iron cauldron, securely wrapped his massive arm around Lyra’s waist to support her failing strength, and they sprinted frantically for the exit gap in the wall, racing against the dying, explosive breath of the Obsidian Throne.