After joking and catching up for a while, the three of them began to plan out what they needed to do.

Assuming the attack was coming in less than a week, they needed to upgrade the entire arsenal of combat armour. Yan had already done some preliminary improvements, but despite her wit, she was lacking too much experience in dealing with mawsie metal.

This was where Ceres stepped to improve the design. Though he was mostly focused on exosuit design, regular infantry combat armour was a simple step down for him. He just had to imagine the human itself was the exosuit and arrange the defence accordingly.

They began work immediately, using the leftover mawsie metal which was stockpiled from before and quickly drafting up a few prototypes. Yan learnt from Ceres rapidly, memorizing every movement of Ceres as much as she could. She never had a formal teacher before, so this experience was very important for her, especially with her limited exposure to the outside world.

As they began production of the combat armour, he did a first example while Yan recorded and asked questions along the way, learning quickly from both Ceres and Zhang how to make the combat armour.

Soon, Yan was able to take over the production of the combat armour after learning in a single afternoon, shocking Ceres slightly. “She really does have the talent to be a designer, it’s too bad she’s stuck in this town.”

He wasn’t sure if this was enough to give them enough of a fighting chance, so as soon as he was done teaching Yan and Zhang, he began his own modification of melee weapons. He had already previously made an improvised spear out of the mawsie shell and he planned to mass produce it.

Even with the influx of ranged weapons, they still needed a backup in case they get into a close-quarter brawl.

Many old folks came up to the workshop, requesting prosthetics so they could help out and defend the town. The entire town was still slightly divided on whether to keep the temple or not, but they knew for a fact that a fight or at least a confrontation is coming, and all hands were needed.

Ceres worked non-stop without sleeping, using his increased strength and stamina to produce limbs and weapons without rest. His hands were more precise than ever before, allowing him to work as though he was a specialized factory machine designed specifically for this task.

He was used to this, having spent his childhood in Uncle Dawn’s workshop and the electrical trash yard refurbishing second-hand electronics non-stop. It gave him a sort of focus and calm, his comfort zone.

A week passed under this tense atmosphere.

A set of combat armour and melee weapons were available now for every fighter, loaded with full mawsie metal. Ceres also entertained a few special requests, such as tower shields to block ranged attacks etc.

Ceres also refurbished his heavy exosuit and Halyon’s exosuit. However, due to the loss of the black goo in the original spine, Ceres had to recreate the Keeper’s exosuit from scratch albeit with a new spine. It provided him with a better understanding of the inner workings of the exosuits even more than he had from the disassembly.

“Are you sure you’re not going to run away?” Ceres squinted as Halyon entered his new exosuit. He had no choice but to make an exosuit for Halyon, as he was the only other one in the town that had a nerval jack, not counting the town chief.

“Even if I do, you’ll catch me right?” Halyon sighed.

Previously he had been joking about Ceres having plot armour, but each day seem to prove to Halyon more and more that Ceres was indeed the main character.

According to Halyon’s inner logic, if Ceres was truly the main character, the best way to survive is to continuously stay close to Ceres. He nodded to himself in self-agreement, while Ceres looked at him weirdly, wondering what weird notion Halyon had now. Reading emotions did not mean that he could read minds.

Ceres also took some time off during the week to go and train the newly form milita. The expedition had lost quite a few members from the combat team, so many substitutes were made. Ren and a squad of soldiers were still at the temple, waiting for the enemy to arrive, while Captain Kai drilled the new recruits.

As the new recruits lined up, it was a bit of a sorry sight. Young kids and old adults of all genders were all lined up in a single file. Sure, the old adults had prosthetics and were probably even stronger than those without, but it did not change their ailing health and inherently weak body structure.

Captain Kai planned to use the old adults primarily as riflemen, and the younger men would double up as melee fighters if it came down to a brawl.

“Which organization is going to attack us?” Mercer wondered every day of this tense week, even as he underwent intensive training under Captain Kai. The drills were all highly practical, training them to use their equipment and passed down in writing by Ceres, transferring everything he learnt from the military orphanage.

Ceres also noted that while the old men had one or more stable arms now thanks to the new prosthetic, it did not change the fact that their vision was not perfect.

He feared that it may cause friendly fire, but had no choice anyway. He didn’t know enough about rifles to add a scope to them or add any type of automation to assist their shooting.

If it was a real military standard rifle, there would be a nerval jack addition to allow better synchronization. However, even if they had such rifles, none of the townspeople ever received a nerval jack installation, so they were unable to use them.

The entire new squad of fighters now numbered around thirty-five, not including Ren’s squad of four soldiers who were still serving as an early warning system at the temple. It would take a week for Ren’s squad to return news if there was any attack at all. Perhaps by now, the squad was already eliminated.

With the lack of instantaneous communication, the townspeople could only hope. A supply convoy continuously went every week to deliver supplies to the squad, so if the convoy did not return, the town would officially enter a state of war.

Back in the workshop, Ceres was chipping away at the part of the staff that Paska left behind. He was very intrigued by the inner workings of the staff.

Ceres previously assumed that Paska was really magically able to control the staff, but after seeing his cybernetic implants, there must be some sort of high technology within it at work. Perhaps he would be able to find some clues. “Now I know why I could not detect Paska during the first fight – most of his body was mechanical!”

The outer stone layer of the staff was slowly removed through Ceres’s persistence. Soon, a glint of polished metal was visible, as well as a complex chip coupled with levitation devices that had been miniaturized.

It was clear right now that the staff was obviously a man-made weapon and Paska had somehow disguised it as a sort of slovesa relic by applying an exterior stone layer.

As the entire device was fully exposed, Ceres was shocked at the level of intricacy present in the staff.  He was 100% sure that even he would not be able to make such a piece of equipment on his own.

It was far beyond any component he had seen in the electrical trash yard as well as his studies in the Thorn Chamber.

Had technology on Athen advanced that far in the last five years?

He carefully dismantled it, this time learning from the design. Studying it intensely, he reached an initial conclusion: the technology could not have developed on Athen locally unless by some miracle the level of research and manufacturing on Athen skyrocketed far beyond what he expected.

The circuitry was precise and miniaturized to the point that he could not even see it with a microscope or nanoscope, and the functions of various components left him confused. It did not deter him, however, and he continued digging for more clues.

Soon, he finally received a clue – a serial number inscribed so small that he almost missed it had he not decided to closely examine each and every single component. Finally getting something, he felt a sort of familiarity with the pattern of the serial number.

Each company had a specific serial number sequence to which they designed or labelled their internal products, and Ceres had seen a fair number of companies’ numbers, at least the ones operating and selling in Athen.

“Holy shit, it’s Bee Strathon!” Ceres smacked the table as he recalled all the serial numbers of refurbished Bee Strathon Mining Suit components that he used to bring out for the riots. How could he have not immediately recognized it?

However, he fell into doubt. This only meant that the staff was most likely created by Bee Strathon either wholly or partially. Their position as the real backers behind Paska may not actually be them, but instead, they had bought the weapon for Paska.

Regardless, it showed that the organization had enough funds to support Paska, even giving him such a high-level piece of equipment. Perhaps the staff itself may be considered generic in a C-class State.

But for the Loeric Empire which was a D-class State, it was a powerful weapon for a civilian to possess.

 The attackers coming should be fully geared up in Bee Strathon equipment at the very least. Ceres quickly asked Captain Kai to let him check the rifles for any potential backdoor that the attackers could use.

Every company had a secret backdoor of some sort, enabling them to take over their own products. It was a well-kept secret, so if the attackers had ties to the Bee Strathon, they may have lost the battle before it was already won.

“How in the world are we going to win this attack…” Ceres pondered. He had to come up with a sure-fire battle plan.

***

The city of Rockhold was abuzz with rumours at this time as well. It was always full of gossip, but today was a particularly engaging day. Two mercenaries were sitting on the sidewalk, eyeing the pedestrians.

“Hey, did you hear? Someone is recruiting mercenaries to defend a recently discovered slovesa ruin. But they aren’t paying anything.” One of them nudged the other.

“Paying nothing?! Who?”

“That guy over there, wearing the cloak. He’s been snooping around asking all the old gangs and whatnot. Maybe this is our chance to make it big. We should try to pick up this job for ourselves.”

“Pfft, why would I accept a mission without any payment? We got fees to pay!”

“Yes but think of the prestige! I’m not saying you don’t have any!” The mercenary quickly backpedalled, coughing. “I’m saying that if you want the Red Roses to start having a name, we got to do a few high-profile missions. Look, everyone here is just waiting to see who would actually accept the mission.”

“If they aren’t offering payment, what are they offering?”

“The chance to enter said ruin. Apparently, it provides lots of benefits!”

The two mercenaries continuously discussed the mission with increasing interest, as did the rest. While the majority of mercenaries and gangs in Rockhold were always solely focused on tangible benefits, there were always a few idealists who wanted to aim higher.

Who didn’t want to be at the top of Rockhold? Right now, that was the Queen and the Queen’s Guards. Everyone admired her rapid rise to fame, and these two mercenaries were not any different.

After a quick further discussion, the two finally agreed to take up the mission. They walked up confidently, standing in front of the mission provider, who was still covered in a cloak. “Is the mission still available?”

“It is. Are you intending to accept the mission?”

“As leader, The Red Roses will be more than proud to accept the mission free of charge. My name is Wrent.” The mercenary loudly announced, intending to publicise his ‘good deed’ as he crossed his arms and puffed up his chest.

“Sorry, who? I never heard of your group before. How many members do you have and what’s your combat equipment?”

At this, Wrent faltered a bit, before quickly resuming his proud stance. “We have thirty members raring to fight, all fully equipped with combat armour and rifles.”

“That doesn’t sound like a lot…” The mission provider frowned, before pulling up a multi-terminal, checking the organization on a public record database. “You haven’t completed a mission yet? What happened to the previous five missions you’ve done?”

Wrent suddenly became furious, grabbing the mission provider by the collar and lifting him up. “Those missions were far beneath our station – of course, we didn’t complete them!”

The mission provider barely flinched, simply just staring at Wrent without saying anything. Those who stood around watching also were very well aware that Wrent was using his outburst to cover up what actually happened to those missions.

Most of the missions were failed due to incompetence, but Wrent had tried his best during them. He really did. He thinks.

Following a short awkward silence, Wrent let go of the mission provider but continued flaunting as though nothing happened. “We’re a much different breed now, our group is aiming for the top of Rockhold! You’ll regret rejecting us.”

“Oh, really? What’s your name?”

“It’s Wrent Tach, remember that… name..” Wrent suddenly realized it wasn’t the mission provider talking, but a deeper voice behind him.

He quickly turned around and took a step back, staring at the strong burly group of men who just appeared behind him. Behind them, Wrent’s lackey was desperately motioning with his hand slicing across his neck to ‘cut the crap’

Of course, he had to cut the crap – these men were from the Queen’s Guards, the top organization of Rockhold and had absolute authority.

The clear emblem of a queen’s chess piece was flaunted on their chest as they stared intently at Wrent.

“Hmm, okay. I’ll remember your name Wrent. When you’re about to reach the top, do let us know.” The leader of the group patted his shoulder heartily.

Wrent desperately nodded his head before quickly stepping out of the way, scrambling away with his lackey. He continuously cursed himself in his heart for acting big in front of the literal top of Rockhold.

The onlookers simply laughed and carried about their daily business, while the group of men from the Queen’s Guards approached the mission provider. "You are the client?" The leader asked.

"No, I’m a middle-man. Don’t even think about cutting me out, I have a contract with him.”

“Of course. If you’re offering to enter the ruin, I’m assuming it’s still functional?”

“I cannot tell you that, client’s orders.” The mission provider sternly said.

“Hmm…” The leader retreated and discussed quietly with his group. After a quick moment, the leader returned and bowed in apology. “Sorry, there’s too few details about the entire mission. We will have to reject.”

“WAIT!” A sudden cry came out from a random passerby, who was seemingly just lurking around. “Please don’t go, you’re our best chance at survival.”

The leader smirked, as though it was all part of his plan to lure out the original client. With their reputation as the top ruling organization of Rockhold, which client would not want to use them?

“You’ll have to come with us to explain the mission in detail.” The leader led the client while tossing a credit chip to the mission provider who scrambled to catch it.

The group walked to a nearby hovercar, before entering with the client sitting amongst the large men nervously. “Don’t be so nervous, you’re in good hands. My name’s Rei. Now tell me all the details if you want the Queen’s Guards to help.”

The client nodded, before spilling everything out. He was the town’s messenger and as per ordered, he had to find a strong organization with the capability to defend the temple for a period as well as have a reputation. What better organization than the rulers of Rockhold themselves?

After the explanation, Rei excused himself from the hovercar. “You get all of that?”

“I did.” The Queen was on the other side of the secret communication channel, having listened to the entire explanation. “This reeks of Bee Strathon intervention. It’s a known fact he has been illegally using non-registered subterranean humans to hunt for veins or ruins. What’s the detail on this town?”

“It’s a group of exiles from the first wave of colonists, staying in a wartime underground bunker called Bunker 13. Seems like they have been there ever since. They trade with Rockhold regularly, though they have been disguising their wares under various separate organizations for each trade.”

“Have they sold any slovesa artefacts yet?”

“No, but the client seems to be very evasive about what’s inside the ruin.”

“Any chance of an ambush?”

“We’ll have to send an initial force to determine that.”

A moment of silence passed as the Queen weighed all her options. “The treaty doesn’t cover external conflicts between us and Bee Strathon, and it’s already happened once. I suspect the ruin has functional slovesa technology inside based on the reaction of the client, and I believe Bee Strathon is already on it. Send a small squad to determine the situation first. We must get there before Olson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”