Chapter 1048 — Ruins of War

In the vast temporary shelter, the dragons who had awakened from their mental slumber gathered together, dragging tired, scarred bodies behind them. The giant sun had gradually climbed to its highest point in the sky, and even here in the frozen Arctic, the warmth of its light had somewhat dispelled the cold that lurked among the ruins of war—though the chill wind still blew ceaselessly across the land, Metzen, standing within the shelter, still felt a measure of reassurance and warmth.

She was not sure whether that feeling came from the broken yet still-standing high walls around her, or from the sight of her kin still alive before her eyes.

Some of the dragons gathered in the shelter maintained their giant dragon forms, receiving limited treatment or "repairs" in that shape; others kept to human form to conserve stamina and supplies, and to free up precious space for the rest—the scale of these shattered walls was not large, and the shelter they could provide was very limited. If every dragon here revealed their true form, there certainly would not be enough room for everyone to settle.

Beneath a half-molten metal tower at the center of the shelter, Metzen found the red dragon Karador—he stood at a high point in human form, his fiery red hair and beard standing out sharply among the crowd. Several other kin were busy nearby: some tending the wounded, others seemingly trying to repair machines dug out of the rubble.

"Metzen!" Karador spotted the blue dragon lady walking toward him from afar and cried out in delighted surprise. "You're alive!"

"You're alive too," Metzen said with a smile, looking at this senior member of the council—a trustworthy old red dragon with whom she had often partnered on missions for several millennia. "What about Takdam?"

"Dead. We've already found his body," Karador said, a trace of sorrow in his tone, though more of it was numbness. "The others too. Only the two of us from Group Six survived."

As he spoke, the red dragon had already keenly noticed the weakness in Metzen's aura. "You need treatment and rest—what about your implants? Is there a problem with your implants?"

"I think the muscle enhancer under my left wing is burned out, and a whole nerve enhancement array from my spine to my tail is ruined as well," Metzen said, sensing her body's condition. "The injuries aren't too bad—I can feel myself healing... The key is the implants. Can they still be repaired in this situation?"

"...We can probably only do some emergency work—cut out the damaged and harmful pieces, and let your body heal those wounds on its own. Of course, healing magic will speed that up," Karador said with a frown. "You should already know that we've lost Omega, and all the automated systems with it—there are only some makeshift tools dug out of the rubble here, and a small amount of undamaged enhancers."

"Then take out those broken parts of mine. Good thing it's not a critical system that failed," Metzen exhaled. "As for the enhancers... leave them for now. I'm in decent shape. Save the enhancers for the severely wounded."

……

A cave within the temporary shelter had been converted into a medical center, meant for the especially severe cases—the wounded who required major surgery on their true bodies. Metzen, having returned to her giant dragon form, lay quietly on a cleared platform, waiting for the mechanic of the medical center to remove the last damaged enhancement device near her spine. She did her best to block out the stinging pain from her nerve endings, her gaze drifting slowly across the scene in the cave—

Supplies and instruments dug out of the rubble were piled around the cave; automated devices, stripped of power, had been dismantled and thrown into a corner. A strange smell mixed with blood and machine oil hung in the air. The cave's original ventilation system had clearly stopped working—even the lighting was maintained only by a few magic orbs floating in midair.

Metzen could no longer remember how many years it had been since she had seen such primitive illumination spells in Tarronde—before this, Omega had tended to the dragons with the care of a nursemaid, leaving nothing wanting.

"This is the last one. It might hurt a bit," a hoarse voice came from near her back. "I'll use magic to suppress your nerve activity as much as I can, but the effect is limited. Bear with it."

"Just take it out, mechanic," Metzen said, slightly working her neck. "My willpower is still quite... AOW MOTHER OF—HOLY CRAP OH MY GOD #$@#%$%!!"

"It's out."

"That was not 'a bit' of pain!" Metzen said, coming back to her senses from an agony that made her doubt the meaning of existence, astonished that she still had the strength to argue with someone. "Are you sure you actually used a spell to dull the pain?"

"The spell did its best, but the interface on your old-model enhancer was faulty—fortunately, it hasn't caused any irreversible damage to your nerves. Now relax. I'm casting a healing spell. Your wounds will close quickly."

As the other's words fell, Metzen finally felt the pain in her back genuinely easing, and even began to sense her flesh and blood gradually knitting back together. She let out a slight breath of relief, then suddenly spoke with a touch of teasing. "The model doesn't matter anymore—everyone's the same now, anyway. Seems we're about to bid farewell to implants altogether, aren't we?"

"...That's how it looks now," the mechanic said, stepping down from the platform and coming before Metzen to tidy and clean those bloodstained tools. Weariness showed on the young red dragon's face, yet her hands never slowed. "The Omega system is gone, and many implants directly connected to it are now liabilities—they won't cause trouble in the short term, but to be safe, it's best to remove them or shut them down. Besides, parts are scarce now, the factories have stopped, and many damaged implants can't be repaired, so they'll all have to come out in the end... The only good news is that at least mechanics like me still know how to remove them. We haven't forgotten that knowledge too thoroughly."

Only then did Metzen notice the young mechanic's practiced skill in handling those tools. She looked at the other with some surprise. "You... seem quite good at using these old-style tools to deal with implants?"

"My grandfather taught me. Before he died, he always went on about how these techniques were useful things... They say he was among the last generation of mechanics who took part in designing Gomodo implants. After him, no one directly took part in mechanical design and manufacturing anymore—all of it was handed over to Omega and the factories' automated systems," the young mechanic said, having finished with everything and lifting her head to look at Metzen. "Actually, mechanics like me who know a bit of 'craft' aren't exactly rare, nor exactly common... Not everyone has a grandfather who was a mechanic, but everyone has their own ways."

Metzen blinked and murmured softly to herself, "I never knew..."

"Upper Tarronde wouldn't allow this kind of 'side work.' You wouldn't even run into dragons like me in most districts of lower Tarronde you could reach," the mechanic said with a smile, her tone light. "It's even less legal than those corner workshops—illegal implant modification is forbidden, but there's still a strong market for it in the deepest districts, and Omega doesn't care what happens in those districts every day."

"...Sorry," Metzen said instinctively, though she did not quite understand what she had to be sorry for. "I really don't know much about these things."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. We had no difference before, and we have even less difference now," the mechanic said with a smile, putting away her tools. "I can barely handle implant problems, but damage to flesh and tissue is up to you. My healing spells have limited effect—if you still feel something's wrong, you can go find Karador."