Heavy Metal

Rusty stood outside his home, staring at the structure that was now more of a fortress than shelter. Every window was nailed shut, thick wooden planks hammered across to prevent entry. The door had been reinforced with metal plates and secured with several heavy latches on the inside. It wasn't much to look at, but it would hold, at least, for now.

The morning light cast sharp shadows across the street, and Rusty allowed himself a moment to take in his work. The fortifications were crude but effective. Anyone who tried to break in would have a hard time doing so quietly. And if they did make it inside, he had some surprises waiting for them.

Even though there wasn't anything worthwhile to steal in his home yet, people might still attempt it. The house was recently acquired and in bad shape. He had spent the last day reinforcing what he could with the steel, bronze, and iron he had in storage. He was no stonemason or carpenter, though, so his repairs weren't exactly nice to look at. Rolo and the other kids had helped him in some places, and Alexander had guided him through some adjustments. Aburdon wasn't too interested in the building and just complained that it was an unfit place for a demon lord.

It seemed they had managed to get away with torching the mercenaries' base. Rolo had gone to investigate and reported that the entire place had burned to the ground. He also informed Rusty that one of the men who could recognize them had perished in the explosions, leaving only one survivor from the previous incident. While this didn't mean other mercenaries couldn't identify them, it lowered the chances of being caught.

With the place burned down and charred bodies inside, it would take some time before anyone checked the basement. Even if they discovered the children had survived, it wouldn't necessarily mean they would figure out that they were responsible for the explosion. Those mercenaries had plenty of enemies and probably wouldn't suspect someone like Rusty, who had just arrived in the settlement, of attacking them for such a reason.

Still, he had destroyed their base, and eventually, they could piece things together. He needed to get strong enough to face their leader. Reaching D-rank was now his main goal.

With his lair now secured, he could delve back into the dungeon to continue leveling. Battling those strange fish people had just been the beginning, as he intended to push much deeper into the sunken mine and uncover all its secrets.

"This should do it…"

"(╹ -╹)?"

"How will I open it from this side? Quite easily, Gleam. Just watch."

At the moment, Rusty and Gleam stood inside the building. The door before them had several latches that could be slid to lock it, along with a thick wooden plank for extra protection. The plan was for someone to always remain inside to open it when needed. However, Rusty had ensured he could still enter even if no one let him in.

Above the door hung an iron gauntlet, one of his old body parts. He demonstrated to Gleam by using one of his skills. The gauntlet, resting on a shelf, floated down and moved one of the latches as he commanded. Even if no one opened the door for him, he had left enough of his body parts inside the building to help him get in one way or another, even without a key.

Additionally, there was a hidden exit that he and Gleam could use if needed. The children could also squeeze through, though it was a tight fit for Rolo, the oldest. With all these precautions in place, he could now safely leave the city to train again.

"A-are you leaving?"

"Yes, I need to go to the dungeon, I might be gone for several days again."

"( • ᴖ • )"

Gleam skittered over to Natia, the youngest of the group, and tapped her leg with one of her antennae in a reassuring way. Rusty was not a babysitter, and he had done as much as he could for these children. He could not watch over them forever, nor did he intend to guarantee their safety.

At most, he was willing to offer his lair as a temporary hiding place and provide some food since he didn't see money as much of a problem. However, they would need to learn to survive on their own. Rolo had promised to keep the lair protected in Rusty's absence and had begun using the basement to practice his dagger skills.

"We'll be fine."

Rolo commented while placing his hand on Natia to keep her from trying to hug Gleam. Rusty watched the exchange, still a bit confused by the moisture gathering in the child's eyes.

"Let's go, Gleam."

" ( •̀ ⤙ •́ ) "

She did not seem too pleased about leaving the children unsupervised but eventually relented. After skittering back to Rusty, she perched herself on his shoulder, pouting in an antlike manner.

"It is best if you do not let anyone in."

"We will not."

Rusty gave Rolo a final piece of advice before heading out. As soon as he stepped outside, he could hear the latches locking behind him as the children secured the door. Now that the issue with the mercenaries was over, he needed to keep moving forward. There was no time to dwell on others. At any moment, his life could change. He had already lost too much time and was not sure how he had let himself get convinced by Gleam and Alexander to go along with all of this in the first place.

'Now then…'

His current form was hidden under a long darkened robe. Even though he had Gleam's papers it was better for her to hide underneath to not stand out. Soon he walked away from his home and glanced at their statuses to see how much more work they needed to do. As expected, Gleam had gained many more levels than him and would evolve faster than he who was just level four now.

This, of course, made some sense since they shared experience points, but she was two smaller ranks below him. Even after she reached full E rank, he probably would not be level fifteen.

He could see that both his HP and MP were higher than hers, but he knew that even with more mana, he could not use spells the way she could. All her skills related to mana control were at a higher level, and spells could also be leveled up. With each level, they became easier to cast, and with enough levels, they consumed less MP. She had also gained a new skill along with some fire spells.

She had learned a few fire spells and begun adding them to her repertoire. Flames were much better for attacking than the light spells she had been using, but they also consumed much more of her magical energy. She had also recently gained a new skill, one that was likely responsible for the human children's affection toward her.

'Spells are not like skills. They can be learned without leveling up if you understand them… I need to evolve…'

Rusty felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he could not use his MP to generate spell effects beyond the simple one he had previously learned. Absorbing skills had its drawbacks. Even if he managed to acquire powerful abilities, it did not mean he could use them instantly. Some skills required others to function properly, and at times, his own body could become a limitation.

After looking through the status he moved through the city streets, his footsteps loudly clicking against the worn cobblestone. The slums, with their twisted alleyways and ramshackle buildings, gradually gave way to broader roads and sturdier structures. Merchants shouted their wares from makeshift stalls, and adventurers wandered the streets, boasting of recent conquests. Rusty kept his head low, his gaze drifting into the distance where charred remains of a building were standing.

"Hah, serves them right."

"Hey, be quiet. Do you want to get yourself in trouble?"

Rusty took a small detour through the city. While Rolo had already given him a report, he still wanted to see the wreckage of the mercenary base for himself. It seemed that the people in the city did not like the mercenaries either, as many whispered praises for whoever was responsible for their downfall.

"What did you say? Tell it to my face!"

"Did I say something?"

"You think I'm stupid?"

Some mercenaries were roaming the area, and a few had caught on to the murmurs. It seemed Rusty had caused far more damage than he had initially anticipated. They were getting into fights with the local thugs and even bothering the merchants which in turn caused the guards to react.

"Those fools have no idea what happened."

Aburdon chuckled, clearly enjoying the chaos their enemies were experiencing. However, they still needed to be careful. If the mercenaries ever discovered that Rusty was the one responsible for their misfortune, escape would be his only option.

Rusty walked past the scorched remains of the mercenary base, the scent of charred wood and burnt flesh still hanging in the air. Blackened beams jutted from the rubble like skeletal fingers reaching toward the sky. He scanned the ruins for any sign of the mercenary leader but saw only ash and broken metal.

The mercenary leader was gone, and no one seemed to care. Rusty had even stationed himself near their old lair, watching for any reaction to his presence. There was nothing more to find here. Training in the dungeon needed to continue, so he turned on his heel and started back toward the gate. Before he could take more than two steps, a loud gong echoed through the city. Rusty froze, turning toward the sound as more bells rang out in quick succession.

"That's the lord's bell, he's making a speech. This is can't be good…"

"Hurry, if we miss it, they might withhold food again!"

"Wonder what this is about, he never rings it unless something big's happened."

The city's settlement lord was a name Rusty had only heard in whispers. Nobility was something he didn't truly understand. They were people who held power over others, elevated above the rest of the population, but that didn't necessarily make them strong or even competent. Their positions seemed to come from something called bloodlines—status passed down simply through association with someone who was once held in high regard.

Rusty had never seen the noble who ruled this city, but he'd heard the man wasn't well respected. Still, people feared him, just as they feared all nobles. The lord might not have been strong himself, but he commanded the city guards and had his own army. They were heavily fortified within the noble district and rarely left it, which meant that whatever was happening now had to be serious.

"It's better if we go too, best not stand out."

"..."

While Rusty wished to go train in the dungeon, he could see some of the guards looking at him. Alexander urged him to follow after them and go to the place they were assembling which seemed to be the settlement square.

Rusty adjusted the hood over his metal-clad form, obscuring his face further as he joined the slow-moving crowd funneling toward the central square. The sound of the bell had died down, replaced by the muttered speculation of hundreds of people. Gleam skittered beneath his collar, her antennae twitching in agitation. Even she could tell that something was off.

The further they went, the more tense the air became. Guards lined the streets in greater numbers than usual, standing shoulder to shoulder in gleaming armor that caught the sun rays. Most bore halberds or crossbows, their expressions stern.

'What this could be about? Could it be about me burning down the mercenary lair?'

He asked his guides as he was unsure why such a large gathering would be taking place but the possibility of this being about him was minimal.

'Probably not, this is probably about something else…'

Alexander replied and was about to continue when, suddenly, horns resounded and a group of people began walking onto the large stage. One of them stood out immediately. He wore strange clothing and a cap, likely to hide his balding head. But what truly drew attention was his sheer size, his roundness was unmatched, broader even than most orcs.

He could barely walk forward without wheezing, each step sounding like a strained effort against gravity itself. His clothes were rich with golden embroidery and thick velvet, yet they clung unflatteringly to his immense body. His cheeks were round and flushed, jiggling slightly as he turned to settle on the ornate, throne-like chair placed at the center of the platform. The chair groaned under his weight but held.

'That's the lord?'

The crowd fell into uneasy silence as the man sat, a handkerchief already pressed to his glistening forehead. He didn't speak. Instead, a thinner man dressed in dark purple robes stepped forward to address the crowd. His voice, magically amplified, rang across the square.

"Citizens of Ferndale"

The announcer began, his arm swept in a theatrical matter.

"You have gathered here today at the request of His Excellency, Lord Borran Vexen IV, steward of this grand settlement and guardian of our survival!"

There was a pause and silence filled the area. Only after the thinner man looked at some of the citizens with a raised brow did they begin clapping in an awkward manner. The clapping died down quickly, replaced once more by the anxious stillness that had settled over the crowd like a damp fog. The announcer cleared his throat and continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"We are gathered here because of grave news. Word has come from the outer watchtowers... news that threatens the very existence of our settlement."

A ripple of unease surged through the gathered people. Rusty could hear whispers behind him. Frantic, hushed words were exchanged between merchants, laborers, and adventurers alike. It seemed that the time had come quicker than he had expected, the settlement was being attacked…