Chapter 1288
The thin air, saturated with the stench of rust, could only be endured by Sky Rank beings or alchemical golems. Once outside, the Three-Eyed Wolf shrank to the size of a fist and perched on Leon’s shoulder. Only here could it ignore the corrosive environment, and with the help of a small alchemical device specially crafted by Leon, the wolf could safely appear in this place. After all, a mere level-thirty Three-Eyed Wolf would never survive here—not even without running into alchemical golems.
After leaving the Golem Graveyard, every alchemical golem encountered along the way was dismantled. This time, there was no terrifying powerhouse like Gandalf to shield them. With Gandalf’s cover, even a Sky Rank golem standing right in front of them wouldn’t have noticed their presence.
Unfortunately, there was no Gandalf this time, so they had to play it safe—dismantling every alchemical golem they encountered along the way. Who knew if some of these constructs were spies for the Sky Rank golems?
Every Sky Rank alchemical golem with a territory had its own methods of surveillance. If they were discovered, and a powerful alchemical golem attacked, things would get ugly fast. Being hunted by one of those in this place was no different than poking a hornet’s nest…
Progress was slow. After several hours, Leon finally brought out a floating ship over ten meters long—a recent creation. It was incredibly fast and, designed specifically for the Plane of Golems, boasted enhanced stealth. While airborne, all magical fluctuations were absorbed by the ship’s materials.
After flying for half a day, Leon used past routes to deduce the location of an Ironhold in this region—a city of steel, and not a particularly large one.
It’s common knowledge that wherever there’s an Ironhold, the ruling alchemical golem is always Sky Rank—and likely possesses an Innate Rune as well.
Most alchemical golems in the Plane of Golems are born inside Ironholds. Wild-born golems are rare and generally have no future. In resource-rich areas, a few alchemical golems might self-assemble, but they’re always weak—and their odds of surviving to maturity are slim.
After a full day’s march, they finally spotted an Ironhold. Unlike the so-called Ironhold Leon had seen in the Blazeforge Realm—which was just a nickname—this one was the real deal. It wasn’t large, spanning only seven or eight kilometers, but everything in sight was forged from steel, black as night.
Whether it was the hundreds-of-meters-high Lightning Spire at the heart of Ironhold, or the surrounding walls and the cold, steel-scented buildings inside, everything was black—like a city even more lifeless than a necropolis, utterly devoid of any trace of life.
Leon hovered in midair, observing for quite a while before confirming: the master of this Ironhold was, at best, a Sky Rank Level 2 alchemical golem. The size of the city was one clue, but the defensive Lightning Spire at its center was only four hundred meters tall, protecting a mere twenty or thirty kilometers—and its strength probably couldn’t withstand a serious meteorite strike.
You have to understand, the Plane of Golems has almost no atmosphere—the whole world is exposed to endless void. Any meteorite can crash straight onto the ground, and with the land here so rich in iron, the entire world is basically a colossal open-pit iron mine. Meteorites containing metal are especially drawn to it.
Meteorite impacts are routine here. On their flight in, Leon had already seen more than a dozen meteorites of all sizes falling toward the Plane of Golems. Fortunately, the land here is as tough as a solid chunk of iron—if it were any other plane, the ground would've been shattered to pieces by now…
But in the Plane of Golems, meteorites are a treasure—there could be rare metals inside, so you’d better smash them open and snatch the ore as fast as you can…
Because meteorite strikes are so frequent, it’s nearly impossible to settle down here. Sky Rank alchemical golems lacking strength or resources just have to wander the wilds, or attach themselves to someone else’s Ironhold. The first thing you need to build, if you want your own Ironhold, is the Lightning Spire.
After roughly calculating the threat level of the Ironhold before him, Leon had the Three-Eyed Wolf take a look as well.
The Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf’s talent was terrifying—it was said to be the best at avoiding danger. Its third eye could see through the river of time, searching for any information it wanted. After all, everything and everyone leaves a trace in the river of time.
Back then, Leon had gone to great lengths—knowing in advance about the Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf’s abilities—just to catch a juvenile. At that time, the little wolf’s actual combat strength was so low that Leon could have killed it seven or eight times over in a single second…
It also had a strong sense for impending danger. Now, it was peering into the past of this Ironhold…
A dozen seconds later, the Three-Eyed Wolf nodded at Leon and tapped his head with a paw, transmitting a message directly to him.
The gist of it: wild monster, no backing, weak—can be taken down…
With the wolf’s confirmation, Leon relaxed and opened his demi-plane, releasing the army of alchemical golems he’d assembled inside.
Every single golem was level thirty or above—three thousand at level thirty-one, three hundred at level thirty-five, and thirty at level thirty-nine. Pabbet led the charge as they advanced toward Ironhold.
As soon as Pabbet’s army appeared a few kilometers from Ironhold, a tide of alchemical golems surged out from within the city.
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There were tens of thousands of alchemical golems—truly a tidal wave—but their levels were abysmal. The vast majority were only teens, a handful in their twenties, and just a few hundred above level thirty. Some were even below level ten…
This kind of cannon fodder army was beneath Leon’s notice. There was no way they could stand up to his own golem forces. He sent in just a thousand level thirty-one Bladewalker Alchemical Golems to charge—and in a single clash, thousands of the enemy were shredded.
After several piercing attacks, nearly twenty thousand of the forty or fifty thousand enemy golems had been reduced to scrap.
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Yet more alchemical golems kept pouring out of Ironhold—almost all of them cannon fodder…
Fifteen minutes in, the thousand Bladewalker Alchemical Golems had reached within five hundred meters of Ironhold’s gate. Only then did a few spellcasting golems atop the walls start attacking—but there were pitifully few, and only a dozen were above level thirty.
Leon almost couldn’t bear to watch. Was he being too cautious?
The Plane of Golems is fiercely exclusionary, with countless powerful alchemical golems—some even surpassing Sky Rank, like the Golem King. But what were the odds Leon would be unlucky enough for a Golem King to get involved?
Honestly, it was pretty unlikely. Even if a Golem King did notice them, it probably wouldn’t bother to act personally. If it really wanted them dead, its power—far beyond Sky Rank—could smash them to bits from a thousand kilometers away…
It was the stronger Sky Rank alchemical golems Leon really needed to watch out for…
As Leon pondered these things, a centaur-like alchemical golem emerged from Ironhold—a Sky Rank Level 1 golem, with an Innate Rune glowing on its back.
As the rune lit up, the centaur golem hefted a three-meter-long spear and instantly appeared hundreds of meters away. It crossed the distance in less than three seconds, its golden spear flickering like a blur.
In a flash, the centaur golem tore through the charging Bladewalker Alchemical Golems, heading straight for Pabbet—leaving at least forty Bladewalkers decapitated in its wake…
Hovering in midair, Leon’s eyes gleamed. No wonder that thing looked like a centaur—it had an Innate Rune for speed. Its build was already made for fast movement, and with the rune, it was even faster. That speed translated into terrifying power, and those level thirty-one Bladewalkers didn’t stand a chance…
Leon didn’t even feel a pang for the dozens of Bladewalkers lost. In truth, he’d long since stopped producing them in bulk; most had ended up in deep storage, unused. The golem bases were now focused on crafting stronger, more advanced models. These lower-tier Bladewalkers were just cannon fodder, if they saw use at all.
The golem bases were researching streamlined production of higher-grade golems. Leon found the lower-level ones beneath notice—they’d only ever be used as expendable troops.
Leon didn’t care, but Pabbet was incensed. It was his first campaign as a newly awakened commander, and he’d just lost forty soldiers to a mere level forty-one golem—an absolute humiliation.
In an instant, the rune of speed on Pabbet’s body flared, and he became a streak of silver light—vanishing from sight, only to reappear before the centaur golem.
The centaur golem lunged with its spear, aiming right for Pabbet’s head—the source of any Sky Rank golem’s wisdom. A blow to the head could kill or demote it, especially for lower-tier Sky Rank golems.
Pabbet’s right hand suddenly morphed, unleashing a two-meter-long crimson energy blade. In a flash, the blade became a curtain of red light!
Pabbet’s speed rune was leagues above the centaur golem’s movement rune. His acceleration was total—dodging, moving, swordplay, spellcasting, and even recovery, all boosted to the max, and in every aspect, he was the strongest.
A flicker of red—visible only as a blur—swept past, and Pabbet’s figure appeared ten meters behind the centaur golem.
The centaur golem’s body stiffened. The crystals in its eyes lost their glow. Next moment, its spear exploded into fragments, and its head burst open, the internal components sliced into neat cubes.
It staggered forward a few more steps before collapsing. Pabbet dismissed his energy blade and waved his army onward. Instantly, all the golems attacked in perfect unison—a massacre. In under five minutes, Ironhold’s outskirts were littered with broken parts, and Pabbet led the army straight into the city.
In midair, Restshift stretched out his head, eager to join the fight, his face a mask of astonishment.
“Damn, that iron centaur is strong—I can barely follow its moves. Still, compared to Grandpa Restshift, it’s nothing. If Grandpa Restshift went in, he’d smash that four-legged tin can into scrap with a single swing. Pfft, just knocking off its head—what’s the big deal?”
Restshift grumbled to join the battle, boasting that the mighty Restshift was now third in the world—only Melin and Reina could compete. No one else was his match.
Too bad Leon wouldn’t let him off the leash.
Pabbet led the assault, and soon, Ironhold’s defenses were in ruins. Its own protection was laughably weak, with no large-scale magic reactors inside, and the central Lightning Spire was powered by a handful of small reactors.
Leon personally dismantled the Lightning Spire. Of all Ironhold’s technology, this was the only thing worth his attention. The spire’s design was common in the Plane of Golems, not really high-end, but any Sky Rank golem could easily acquire it.
But in the Northend World, this spire’s technology was formidable. Previously, Leon had seen a Lightning Spire that could unleash ball-shaped lightning—if used to defend a demi-plane, even Sky Rank powerhouses might be destroyed by it.
Unfortunately, in the Plane of Golems, the spires only targeted things in the sky—never anything on the ground. And only if the target was big and fast enough would the spire activate.
After taking apart the Lightning Spire, Leon quickly found the technology he wanted. If he could modify it, he’d be able to mass-produce more powerful, cost-effective defensive towers—far stronger than Northend World’s magic towers. Most importantly, the control system’s design was fundamentally different and far more advanced.
The main material for this hundreds-meter-tall Lightning Spire was cheap Black Demon Iron…
The Plane of Golems had enough Black Demon Iron to blanket the entire Northend continent—and still have plenty left over.
In Northend, Black Demon Iron was the cheapest magical metal, used for everything from railroads to the best city infrastructure. Even the luxury rails in the Odin Kingdom’s major cities were made from Black Demon Iron.
Leon took the core components of the Lightning Spire and left the rest behind. The Black Demon Iron produced by golem foundries was so abundant, Leon didn’t even want it cluttering up his storage.
With Ironhold conquered and an Innate Rune secured, Leon finally relaxed.
Back in the Wildlands Library of Seablue City, Leon had read that the Plane of Golems was nearly a match for Northend World at its peak. The records spoke of Sky Rank alchemical golems that exceeded even Sky Rank—there were quite a few of them.
Leon wasn’t about to provoke such beings. Even a Gandalf would tread lightly here, terrified of being noticed by the Golem Kings and crushed in an instant. Leon, knowing even more, was doubly cautious—so this time, he brought the Three-Eyed Wolf for extra safety.
If not for the need to craft the Redpush Disk—its core required a Sky Rank golem’s Innate Rune, and plenty of them, plus the black substance from last time—Leon wouldn’t have come to the Plane of Golems so soon.
In Northend, even the strongest beings wouldn’t bother personally with newcomers, but in the Plane of Golems, alchemical golems felt no shame in slaughtering humans outright.
A newly advanced Sky Rank powerhouse discovered by a Golem King could be killed with a flick of the wrist—it’s happened before…
With Ironhold toppled, Leon was certain this region was the weakest edge of the Plane of Golems’ power—a place so pathetic, even the golems themselves might weep with sympathy. There was no way a stronghold like this would appear anywhere but the borderlands.
Pabbet led the army forward on the ground, while Leon, Restshift, and Reina sailed overhead in the floating ship, hidden in the clouds.
After another day’s march, they discovered a second Ironhold—much grander, with a main city spanning over ten kilometers, defensive spires reaching eight hundred meters, and a citadel protected by a forty or fifty kilometer perimeter. Each corner of the citadel was guarded by a hundred-meter-high tower, built for true defense.
Pabbet led the army again, and just like before, the city’s master was only a usurper, not its true founder. In the Plane of Golems, it was common for a Sky Rank golem to build an Ironhold, only to have it snatched away by another.
Once more, cannon fodder poured out, and Pabbet waved the army forward to tear them apart, waiting patiently behind. After half an hour of slaughter, three Sky Rank golems emerged—one with eight arms and a seven-meter frame, each arm at least six meters long.