There's a Glamoth Iron Cavalry Here, Let's Snag Him and Take Him Home

Logically, Elio's prophecies should never be wrong—at least, up until now, Kafka had never seen one fail.

If there was a problem, the problem must lie with her and Stelle, never with his prophecy.

However....

Wait, just wait...

Following the suggestion of the girl beside her, Stelle—a being of immense importance to her—Kafka waited for an unknown duration. She waited so long, in fact, that she'd drunk so much red wine she'd lost count of her trips to the restroom. Finally, Kafka couldn't hold back any longer.

A flicker of 'dissatisfaction' crossed her usually calm, ripple-free as stagnant water, rose-pink eyes. Seeing this, Stelle also fell into deep thought. After a long pause, she offered another opinion: "Maybe we just haven't waited long enough?"

Finished speaking, Stelle met Kafka's gaze, glanced at the pile of empty wine bottles on the floor, and scratched her head.

"Maybe... Elio got something wrong?"

Miss Kafka, who had always trusted Elio implicitly, found her faith wavering after countless glasses of red wine. Her voice, soft yet tinged with an inexplicable emotion, set the tone for their next course of action.

"Perhaps. Let's go back and find Elio."

...

Beneath the pitch-black night sky thrived a city of dazzling neon lights, towering skyscrapers, endlessly flowing vehicles, and relentless nocturnal revelry.

But this prosperity mostly belonged to the upper-class elites dressed in luxury, leaving precious little for the common folk below.

Where there is oppression, there is resistance. Faced with this injustice, the people born on this land learned to use their exceptional technological skills to reclaim what should rightfully be theirs—as 'hackers'.

Of course, none of this concerned Silver Wolf for the time being.

After all, she was currently just a fast-food restaurant employee.

"Mmm... Finally done~"

Dressed in rather revealing attire, the silver-haired girl with blue highlights and a single ponytail stretched languidly. Although her figure was somewhat lacking, the daring outfit still had its eye-catching points.

Silver Wolf. That was her name.

Though it sounded more like a codename, in this fast-food joint with only one employee—herself—it was Silver Wolf's name.

It couldn't be helped; even naming rights cost money on Punklorde. Otherwise, illegal naming would result in a fine.

Of course, Silver Wolf, having gotten used to it from the start, didn't think the name was bad.

It suited her, didn't it?

She finished clearing the trays. Although it was just a one-employee fast-food place in a remote location, it was frequented by equally poor commoners in this city of perpetual night, so business was quite brisk.

"Sigh, these days just feel kinda... lacking in excitement."

Despite being a young girl, Silver Wolf possessed an exceptional ability to endure loneliness. Or perhaps, more accurately, she was very good at entertaining and satisfying herself.

For example, the arcade she'd set up in the basement, even if the old machines inside could only play ancient games.

But a game like Pong—two horizontal lines, one light dot, an incredibly simple ball-hitting game—could keep Silver Wolf occupied alone for an entire day.

However, even though the games truly immersed her...

As life outside became increasingly difficult, the familiar faces of customers who used to visit the shop and the arcade gradually disappeared for various reasons. When the names on the leaderboards dwindled until only her own remained, that joy seemed to vanish completely.

"Boss, I'm thinking of going out for a bit." Having had this thought, Silver Wolf pondered for a moment before voicing her idea to the gray-haired woman currently tidying the shop.

"If you want to go out, just go. Why tell me..."

The fast-food shop owner, the woman who had taken Silver Wolf in, Natasha, looked at the girl's expression. She was initially puzzled, but the next moment, realization dawned, and she asked in surprise, "Wait... are you planning to leave here?"

"Yeah. Nobody really visits the basement arcade anymore. I've already cleared this game. I want to go outside and play a 'new game'."

"'A new game', huh..." Natasha looked at the excited girl, feeling a bit resigned.

People on Punklorde were mostly like this, immersed in games—though that usually applied to highly skilled hackers. She never expected the child she took in would turn out this way too...

"Alright then... If you want to leave, I can't keep you."

"Where are you planning to go?"

"Hmm... I'll check out the Scrapheap first."

"...That place is pretty chaotic, isn't it? A bit dangerous." Natasha frowned upon hearing the name.

Although both were impoverished areas, compared to the district where the fast-food shop was located, the place called Scrapheap was the designated 'dumping ground' by Punklorde's elite. Because even the elites' trash held value for the poor, the area was rife with gangs and rampant hackers.

Silver Wolf was completely unconcerned.

"Where there's danger, there's challenge~"

"Sigh... I really can't do anything about you. Stay safe... If you can't make it there, just come back. My door is always open for you."

"Sniff sniff, I'm so touched~ Boss, you're like my second mother!"

"I literally adopted you, didn't I?... Honestly, with you gone, all the work in the shop falls on me alone," Natasha complained half-heartedly. Silver Wolf stuck out her tongue, then... promptly left the fast-food shop, leaving Natasha feeling helpless.

That ungrateful little wolf, really not attached to this place at all.

She didn't need to worry about luggage, as almost everyone on Punklorde mastered the technique of Aether Editing.

Of course, compared to the technique's value in the hands of hackers, its greater significance for the common folk was simply for storing and transporting things.

"Hee hee~ Scrapheap, here I come!"

Outside the shop, Silver Wolf gazed towards the towering, iconic landmark—a mountain formed from piled-up scrap, resembling a city itself—a highly anticipated smile spreading across her face.

However...

The next moment.

"Huh? What's that?" Silver Wolf noticed something, glancing up at the rather dazzling pillar of fire in the sky. What looked like a shooting star crashed down with a roar—its impact point precisely on the Scrapheap.

"Whoa!"

"Looks like something interesting." Far from being scared, Silver Wolf's eyes filled with anticipation. Eagerly, she used Aether Editing to rapidly close the distance.

After crossing a large stretch of wasteland, the landmark of the slum, the Scrapheap, became clearer.

But it looked different from how Silver Wolf remembered. The Scrapheap seemed to have been struck by something, significantly shorter than before.

There was also a blinding pillar of fire shooting towards the sky and a massive roar.

Scrap metal flew everywhere.

Along the way, she noticed many fleeing and converging hackers. The fleeing ones looked terrified, spreading panicked messages on the network like 'Don't go, it's a monster!' The converging hackers, however, seemed rather disdainful.

Their target was clearly a bounty posted on the Aether Network, featuring the fiery meteor's true form: a suit of silver knightly armor.

For the elites of Punklorde, this was an unexpected discovery... or rather, a pleasant surprise.

For Punklorde, with its advanced network and close ties to the interstellar community, they couldn't possibly fail to recognize what this was.

The renowned Glamoth Iron Cavalry.

The former front line in the sky, the Glamoth Republic, had relied on this technology to fight against the Swarm Disaster that plagued the universe. Although the Glamoth Iron Cavalry fought only the Swarm, not the Aeon of Propagation itself...

Let it be known, even just the Swarm was a nightmare for many factions across the stars.

And the Glamoth Republic, using the Glamoth Iron Cavalry, had achieved extraordinary technological feats.

Undoubtedly, many factions in the universe coveted this technology with greedy eyes.

However, previously deterred by the colossal empire spanning tens of thousands of light-years, the technology's inherent 'anti-research' mechanisms, and the fact that the Iron Cavalry themselves were no pushovers, the interstellar powers could only watch and desire the technology from afar.

But...

The well-informed upper echelons of Punklorde had already learned through interstellar contacts that the Glamoth Republic, once a dominant force covering tens of thousands of light-years, had recently collapsed due to internal strife.

The interstellar powers had assumed the world-famous Glamoth Iron Cavalry would vanish along with it. They never expected to see one again today.

This was undoubtedly news that sent the Punklorde leadership into raptures.

After all, if they could capture this Glamoth Iron Cavalry soldier, they could reverse-engineer the technology and replicate the legendary Glamoth Iron Cavalry legions of the past.

Although Punklorde wasn't an inherently expansionist, aggressive power, its internal situation made it clear they were far from being a force of order and good.

Facing the gradually spreading Antimatter Legion and the scattered Denizens of Abundance in the universe, even with ties to the Corporation, Punklorde's leadership remained apprehensive about the future.

Furthermore, the Corporation's past actions made everyone admit they were a 'suspicious' entity.

While Punklorde's own Aether Editing was an outstanding technology, those in the know understood its vast disparity in effectiveness. The powerful applications were self-evident—look at the famous hackers known throughout the stars, all products of Punklorde. As for the weak... the commoners in the slums who only used it to store and transport goods were the norm.

Thus, Punklorde's prominence owed more to its highly strategic location, making it difficult for outsiders to attack.

Sufficient for defense, lacking in offense...

"If we could obtain the Glamoth Iron Cavalry technology..." In the control room, a blonde woman stared at the image of the silver armor, her gaze burning with intensity.

Punklorde's Aether Editing already excelled at resource utilization... With the Iron Cavalry technology, they could achieve infinite troop production. The two were a match made in heaven.

Moreover, the existence of the Iron Cavalry could also solve Punklorde's internal problems—such a 'war machine' would be incredibly effective against those troublesome commoners in the lower strata.

In summary...

Punklorde needed this technology.

Therefore, she decisively ordered its 'capture' using Aether Editing techniques, initiating an operation to seize it.

To prevent escape, the battlefield had to be within Punklorde itself. Only then, augmented by Punklorde's infrastructure, could Aether Editing reach its maximum potential.

As for the location... the most suitable place initially seemed to be the wasteland between the city and the Scrapheap. Besides grass, sparse trees, and some small animals, there was nothing there—well, maybe a few vagrants.

Destroying it wouldn't be a loss. But Cocolia reconsidered and found an even more fitting battlefield.

The Scrapheap.

It contained only trash and the dirty lower class who scavenged for a living, along with those lawless, troublesome hackers who constantly annoyed the elites. Frankly, the mere existence of the Scrapheap was an eyesore to Punklorde's upper crust, purely detrimental to the city's appearance.

Compared to the magnificent neon metropolis, something like the Scrapheap only served to ruin the mood, right?

In that case, they might as well take this opportunity to capture the Glamoth Iron Cavalry soldier and simultaneously clean up this garbage.

...Anyway, that plan was already in the works.