Chapter [33]
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King Osaf of the Iron People found himself in a state of unease. Restlessness pervaded his people as the tides of [Mana] shifted, indicating an impending and significant change. The awakening of the [Traitors] troubled King Osaf; he hadn't anticipated this day. Shifting uncomfortably in his metallic throne, he grappled with the unsettling realization. Neither he nor his people were prepared for this unforeseen turn of events. The tribe lacked sufficient warriors, and memories flooded his mind as he contemplated the current state of affairs.

 

King Osaf reminisced about the days of paradise, a time when majestic ships sailed the sea of metal, and the creator wielded dominion over the lands. During this era, the creator bestowed upon his people and followers bodies crafted from iron and steel, endowing them with unimaginable powers. The vivid recollection brought to mind how the great creator effortlessly molded the lands according to its whims, erecting imposing walls and mountains of iron and steel in mere seconds.

 

In that golden age, great floating cities of metal extended as far as the eyes could perceive, and the threads of [Mana] flowed harmoniously and smoothly, guided by the benevolent hand of the great creator. It was an era marked by prosperity and paradisiacal abundance.

 

His angels, floating balls of [God steel] tirelessly guarded the realm from any who dared to invade it, among these angles was Runk’t. As the strongest of them all, Runk’t was tasked with the most work and was always busy, oftentimes being at several places at once due to the constant battles with the [Humans] from above.

 

King Osaf vividly remembered the day of great betrayal with extreme clarity. It was the day when their metallic sun, their creator, fell. Runk’t, driven by madness and having learned the secrets of their god from the [Humans], developed a lust for the power of [Dungeon cores]. In his delusion, he believed their creator to be nothing more than a mere [Dungeon core]. At that time, King Osaf was reluctant to accept this reality, but it became undeniable when Runk’t shattered the sun, or the [Dungeon core] that hung above them, and greedily consumed its power.

Life underwent a profound transformation after that moment, with numerous changes reshaping the world. Wars erupted, cities crumbled, and civilizations faced devastation as their primary source of sustenance and resources was abruptly cut off. Billions perished, and amid the chaos and death, Runk't somehow grew stronger, gaining power with each passing day. Eventually, his strength reached a point where he bore a hole through the heavens, venturing into the most dreaded place—the surface.

 

Following his departure, nobody heard of Runk't again. The hole he created instantly sealed itself, preventing any investigation or curiosity from the inhabitants below.

 

After the angel's departure, numerous other angels of metal succumbed to the temptations of power, longing to emulate Runk't. This marked the onset of the second age of chaos, the age of traitors. Over time, these angels also fell from grace, transforming into beasts of iron ore. Their once-glorious intelligence diminished, and they became mindless creatures in their frenzied quest for power. Eventually, they devolved into the [Iron Beasts], a formidable and dangerous threat that Runk't unfortunately knew all too well. Even in their diminished state, these creatures wielded considerable power, posing a genuine danger to him and his people.

 

King Osaf had gained profound insights since those days, delving into the true nature of the world he inhabited and recognizing its brutal functioning and ways of operation. His knowledge extended to the enigmatic entities known as [Dungeon Cores]. Understanding their vital role in the world, he realized they were the providers of everything. It became clear why people regarded them as gods, for without [Dungeon Cores], the world would lack essential resources. These entities somehow replenished the world through unknown means.

 

Reflecting on his past, Osaf remembered his deceased god and former master, a deity of metal and steel. Even in the present, the [humans] and other races continued to invade his home realm, driven by their relentless pursuit of metal.

 

The contemplation left his metallic tongue with a taste of rustiness, and anger smoldered in the depths of his core. Fueled by this fury, the king clenched the metallic armrest of his worn throne, exerting such formidable strength that it left visible dents in the metal surface.

The anger dissipated as a fellow tribesman hurried into the room, his iron and steel body navigating the various traps strategically set by King Osaf himself. This particular tribesman stood as a personal apprentice to Osaf, holding the king's utmost trust. Among the tribe, he ranked among the strongest, second only to Osaf himself.

 

When he finally reached Osaf he kneeled respectfully before reporting some urgent and dangerous news.

 

“My king, they are on the move, heading south to the area of strange mana, what should we do?”

 

King Osaf's body trembled as the words emanated from the tribesman's voice box. His form shifted uncontrollably as he grappled with the weight of the decision before him. The gravity of the choice, one that would determine not only his fate but also the fate of his people, bore down on him. The responsibility felt crushing and volatile, poised to collapse and incinerate at any moment, especially at any wrong moment.

 

The decision to stay in this location carried a very real risk of awakening more [Traitors], putting them all at the mercy of certain death. Additionally, the reserves of pure iron in the area were depleting rapidly. Soon, there would be nothing left to repair the broken warriors and sustain his people. This looming scarcity forced them into the inevitable reality of moving, even if it was a choice they would rather not make.

 

With limited options, there was only one realistic choice to be made: to reach the area of strange mana fluctuations before the [Traitors]. The hope lingered that whatever awaited them there might provide salvation. The fate of King Osaf and his entire tribe, consisting of a thousand people, depended on this critical decision.

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