Suprise in the Volcano

While Pax was entertaining the crowd, Nioh was venturing deeper into the volcano cavity. The heat from the boiling magma was becoming increasingly hard to withstand with his biocore energy alone.

"Let's go back the heat is too much," Ekoh said feeling the stress of the heat on Nioh's body. 

His body was sweating and his electronics began to malfunction, his hearing aid fried up, as well as his communication device melted. "Stupid junk," Nioh said as he took them off and proceeded to take off the upper part of his bodysuit. "There is an entrance, over there let us go a little further" he suggested as he walked deeper.

By the time he reached the entrance, his body was drenched and his air wet. he was dehydrated and hazy. But as soon as he crossed the threshold of the entrance, his body cooled down instantly.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his body still shivering from the sudden shift in temperature. The crystalline cave stretched infinitely in all directions, its walls lined with jagged mineral formations that pulsed with an eerie, bioluminescent glow. Veins of molten rock ran through the walls, but instead of radiating heat, they seemed to hum with energy, casting the cave in hues of violet and deep blue. Tiny luminescent spores drifted in the air like floating embers, swirling with the periodic gusts of frigid wind.

"What is going on here?" Nioh muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ekoh's response came immediately, sharp and urgent. "Don't make a sound. The biocore is close."

A heavy chill washed over him again, not just a shift in temperature but a pulse, a presence.

Nioh steadied his breath and moved forward, even quieter than before. The walls around him seemed to shift, the luminous patterns dancing in sync with each gust of wind. He could feel something in the air now—a slow, rhythmic pressure, like the exhalation of a sleeping giant.

Then he saw it.

A colossal beast lay at the heart of the cavern, its form so immense it took him a moment to grasp its scale. Its serpentine body coiled upon itself, the vast length of its tail vanishing into the darkness. Metallic plates and synthetic fibers wove seamlessly with its organic flesh, its body a horrifying yet beautiful fusion of machine and life.

A bio-mechanical wyvern.

Its head was crowned with overlapping armor plates, obsidian-like in texture, with glowing channels of energy running between them. Eyes that had long since dulled flickered faintly beneath half-closed lids, their light an ancient ember waiting to be rekindled. Thick chains bound its massive limbs, extending into the depths of the cave walls where unseen mechanisms held it captive.

Its wings, once majestic, were tattered—half of their membrane replaced with shifting metal plating, gears, and conduits pulsing weakly like a failing heart. The beast's chest rose and fell with slow, deep breaths, each exhalation sending out the icy gusts that filled the cavern.

Nioh swallowed hard. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes," Ekoh replied, his voice steady. "A canonized Mecha."

The mechanical husk loomed before them, half-buried in the cavern's cold embrace. Its once-pristine form was now a grotesque fusion of metal and decay, its organic components long eroded by time.

"How long do you think it's been here?" Nioh asked, his voice hushed with reverence.

"Centuries, maybe." Ekoh crouched beside the remains, running his fingers along the corroded plating. "You can see the biological parts are almost completely gone."

Nioh exhaled, his breath fogging in the dim light. "Then why is it still alive?"

Ekoh hesitated before answering. "Canonization."

Nioh shot him a look, waiting.

Ekoh continued, his tone grim. "When a corebinder loses control, their biocore turns unstable, consuming them from the inside out. The host disappears, leaving behind something that is neither human nor machine. What remains is an empty husk, doomed to rot unless someone puts it down."

Nioh frowned, studying the lifeless colossus before him. "Then it must be dead. This thing isn't moving. If anything, it's running on pure instinct."

"Maybe," Ekoh conceded. "But something in this cave is keeping it functional. Some kind of residual energy."

Nioh's gaze drifted to the center of the Mecha's chest. "Is the biocore intact?"

"I doubt it." Ekoh's eyes traced the jagged edges of corrupted circuits. "With this level of decay, no core should be able to last this long."

But Nioh barely heard him. His focus was locked on the sheer impossibility of what lay before him. Canonized Mechas were almost never seen without their corebinder. Only the most exceptional warriors could manifest one through sheer will alone. Even rarer were those that took on non-human forms—an aberration of combat, a mark of a battle so ferocious that even the machine had been forced to evolve. It must have been a brutal fight, Nioh thought, his mind tracing the missing pieces of its history.

Without thinking, his fingers reached out.

Ekoh noticed too late. "Nioh—don't!"

His warning came a second too late.

Cold metal met warm flesh.

A violent jolt shot through Nioh's body. His pupils dilated, shifting from their natural gold to a burning, unnatural green. His breath hitched. Every muscle in his body locked in place.

He stood there, unmoving—a marionette whose strings had been seized.

Ekoh cursed under his breath. "Shit."

Nioh wasn't just frozen. His presence had vanished.

Like his very soul had been snatched away.

--

While Nioh remained lost to the unknown, the rest of the fiefdom was celebrating. The city buzzed with excitement over Pax's triumph in the hunt. Every broadcast, every news panel, every analyst was fixated on the unstoppable rise of Prince Pax and the weapon that secured his latest victory.

"Over the past three days, we've seen a significant rise in custom weapons on the battlefield. Today, we have a special guest—Lady Minx, a Junior Weapon Designer from one of the capital's most prestigious universities."

A composed voice filled the broadcast. "Hello, I am Minx, the designer of the Nanobiocore Sword wielded by Prince Pax."

The moment she spoke, the viewership surged. The journalist practically beamed.

"We're going to open the floor to questions from the audience," the interviewer announced.

First question: "Why do you think custom weapons are on the rise?"

Minx smiled, her tone cool and confident. "It's simple. A corebinder's strength is built on three pillars—Ability Power, Mecha, and Weaponry. Of the three, weapons are the easiest to refine and enhance."

Second question: "How long did it take to create the Nanobiocore Sword?"

"I had the blueprint for two years," Minx admitted. "But a weapon is only as good as its wielder. Prince Pax was the perfect candidate—his refined combat instincts and ability control brought the sword to life."

Then came the real question.

"What are you thoughts regarding the unconventional weapons that appeared during this edition of the hunt?" the announcer asked displaying the images of the crown and the Cape.

For the first time, Minx hesitated. Then, she gave a polished smile.

"Unorthodox designs are impressive… but they rarely yield results. There's a reason swords, spears, and shields dominate the battlefield. They offer the best functionality."

She continued, her voice measured.

"The Nanobiocore Sword has a functionality amplification of 75%—meaning any basic attack or maneuver is enhanced by that much. That's already an exceptional performance metric.

"The best-recorded output for unconventional weapons? Barely 40%. Which is still respectable, but why waste potential chasing aesthetics when efficiency is king? To be honest I look down on those little designers who like to play master by creating such wasteful weapons. Especially in this climate where resources are scarce."

In a sentence she managed to turn the public opinion against the wielder of such weapons, labeling them as entitled and an economical calamity.

--

"What kind of bullshit is she spewing?"Sol scowled at the screen, sprawled across a mat, arms crossed, eyes burning with irritation.

"Can you act a little more like a princess?" her older brother, Kol, sighed from across the tent.

Sol huffed. "She's lying. My crown has a 93% functionality output. Your cape is even better. That woman's just another mediocre designer trying to sound important."

Kol chuckled. "Well, Little Uncle is just too awesome."Sol didn't smile as Her irritation faded into unease.

"It's been two days." She frowned. "Still no word from him and our shift starts soon."

A heavy silence settled between them.