Elara rested with her eyes closed, a picture of stillness. Her silver lashes hid the complex emotions in her eyes, and only the occasional slight tremor in her breathing betrayed the pain of her wounds. Liam leaned against the opposite wall, his fingers repeatedly tracing the grip of his steam revolver. Outside the workshop, the wind carried rust flakes over the roof with a whispering sound, mingling with the distant roars of beasts to weave a tense, fragile quiet. He didn't dare let his guard down. The pursuit squad was still out there, the Imperial cruiser still lurked offshore. A single misstep could spell their doom.
After what felt like an eternity, Elara's eyes snapped open, their silver gleam sharp in the dim light. She struggled to sit up, but as she put weight on her arm, a tearing pain shot through her left shoulder, making her sway uncontrollably. Seeing this, Liam moved forward, reaching out to steady her, but she lifted a hand to stop him. A familiar wariness returned to her eyes, edged with an untouchable pride. "Don't."
Gritting her teeth, she used one hand to push herself slowly upright, leaning her back against the side of the machine tool. She looked down at her crudely bandaged wound, her fingers gently probing the edge of the splint with cautious curiosity. "You used mineral crystals on the wound?" she asked suddenly, her tone carrying surprise. The mineral crystals of Rust Island could slow corrosion, but few knew they could also temporarily stop bleeding and reduce inflammation. This man in ragged work clothes seemed to hold more secrets than he let on.
Liam nodded, offering no further explanation. "It's all there was in the workshop. It'll stabilize the injury for a while, but not for long." He paused, looking at Elara. "Why is the Empire hunting you?"
A flash of icy hatred crossed Elara's eyes. Her fingers clenched, the silver wolf pendant digging into her palm. "Elias is a hypocrite. He controls the Empire in the Pope's name, but secretly brews Rust-Corrosion potions. My Silver Wolf Knights refused to become sacrificial lambs, so he turned on us. My mount helped me break through the encirclement... we crashed on this island." Her words were brief, but they carried the weight of fire and bloodshed, each syllable etched with bitter resolve.
Liam's heart jolted. Rust-Corrosion potions? Could they be connected to the Rust-Corrosion curse afflicting him? He was about to press for details when hurried footsteps sounded outside the workshop, accompanied by the clatter of metal armor and the shouts of knights. They were getting closer – the pursuit squad had searched their way to this area.
"They've found us," Liam tensed immediately, gripping his steam revolver and moving quickly to the inner door, peering through a crack. In the night, a dozen or more knights in black armor were advancing towards the workshop. The leader held a longsword, his gaze sharp – remnants of the earlier pursuit squad. Behind him followed soldiers with crossbows, their bolt tips glinting coldly. They were well-prepared.
Elara's face paled. She tried to rise, but her injuries were too severe; she barely got halfway up before collapsing back down, her silver eyes filled with frustration. "I'll draw them away. You take the chance to escape." She knew she was a liability. Staying would only drag Liam to his death.
"Unnecessary," Liam glanced back at her, his voice calm yet leaving no room for argument. "The workshop walls are thick, the gate reinforced. They won't break in immediately, but waiting here means we'll be worn down eventually. We need to break out." His eyes swept the interior, landing on the pile of steam pipes and the discarded boiler in the corner. A calculating glint appeared in his eyes. "There's residual steam here. Might be of use."
Elara frowned, looking at him puzzled, but Liam was already moving to the boiler, checking the pipe connections, his fingers running over the rusted valves. "There's a little steam left in the boiler. Not enough pressure, but it can hold them off temporarily. Stay behind this inner door. Don't come out." With that, he picked up a piston rod from the ground, poured the remaining oil onto the base of the boiler, then took position by the inner door, cocking his steam revolver.
The knights' footsteps reached the workshop door. The leader raised a hand, signaling a halt. "Listen inside!" he shouted arrogantly. "Hand over Elara Voss, and your life will be spared! Otherwise, we'll raze this workshop and kill everyone inside!"
Liam didn't respond. He reached out and twisted a boiler valve. A hissing sound came from the pipes as thin, white steam slowly seeped out, spreading across the floor. He tightened his grip on the piston rod, watching the figures outside the door crack, waiting for the right moment.
The knights outside, receiving no answer, lost patience. "Break it down!" the leader roared. Several knights raised their shields and charged the gate. A loud BANG echoed as the gate shuddered violently but held fast in its frame, though rust flaked off the edges.
"Put your backs into it! Break it open!" the leader yelled angrily. More knights joined the assault. The gate shook more violently, the wooden frame beginning to splinter. It was on the verge of giving way.
Liam's eyes narrowed. He yanked the inner door open and threw a burning piece of wood – soaked in oil – outside. It landed in the area where the steam was spreading, and the high temperature instantly ignited the vapor. A muffled WHOMP sounded as a wave of white steam billowed towards the knights. The scalding vapor burned the front-line knights, eliciting screams of pain and instantly breaking their tight formation.
"Now!" Liam yelled, charging out with the piston rod, swinging it hard at the lead knight. The rod connected with the knight's shield with a deafening metallic crash. The shield dented instantly, and the knight was thrown back several steps, his arm numb, his sword nearly flying from his grasp.
The other knights surged towards Liam, their sword points aiming for his vitals. Liam dodged nimbly, avoiding the thrusting blades. He swung the piston rod backhanded into one knight's knee. The man screamed and collapsed, the sound of shattering bone stark and clear. Seizing the chance, Liam turned and swept the rod towards another knight's neck. The knight failed to dodge in time, was hit on the back of the neck, and fell to the ground unconscious.
But the knights were numerous and soon surrounded him. Swords crossed, their cold steel glinting. Liam weaved and ducked, new wounds appearing on his body, blood dripping from his clothes. The old wound on his left shoulder tore open again, the agony making his vision dim, but he gritted his teeth and held on, the piston rod in his hand whirling with increasing ferocity.
Watching from behind the inner door, Elara bit her lip hard, her eyes filled with conflict. She knew her injuries were too severe, that going out would only hinder Liam. But watching him fight alone, powerless to help, made waves of guilt and frustration churn inside her. She looked down at her bandaged arm, clenched her jaw, and tried to force her way out of the splint's restraint. Even a little help would be better than nothing.
The fight outside grew fiercer. Liam's stamina was draining, his arms aching so badly he could barely lift them. The steam revolver was long out of bullets, leaving only the piston rod to rely on. The lead knight saw an opening and thrust his sword towards Liam's chest with startling speed. Liam twisted aside hastily, but the blade still sliced across his chest. Blood welled up immediately, staining his ragged work clothes.
"Die!" the lead knight snarled, lifting his sword for another thrust, aiming for a vital spot. Just as it seemed the blow would land, a silver figure burst from the workshop – Elara. She had somehow freed herself from the splint, her left arm still twisted, but she gripped a short sword taken from a fallen knight, and she drove it hard into the lead knight's back.
With a thud, the short sword pierced the armor and found his heart. The lead knight stiffened, turning his head to look at Elara with utter disbelief in his eyes, before crashing heavily to the ground, lifeless.
The remaining knights turned their fierce gazes towards Elara. "Elara Voss! You're dead!" one roared, charging at her with his sword. Weakened from her ordeal and having forced her way free of the splint, Elara had no strength to dodge. She could only barely raise her arm to block. The short sword met the longsword with a clash, the impact sending her stumbling back several steps. Excruciating pain shot through her arm, and the short sword nearly fell from her grasp.
Seeing this, Liam's heart clenched. Ignoring the searing pain in his chest, he rushed forward, placing himself in front of Elara. He swept the piston rod horizontally, forcing the encircling knights back. He turned to her, his voice urgent. "Who told you to come out?!"
"I couldn't let you fight alone," Elara's gaze was firm, her silver eyes filled with stubborn resolve. "You saved me. I have no right to hide in the back." She tightened her grip on the short sword. Even with the terrible pain in her arm, she refused to back down.
Looking at her stubborn face, Liam felt a stir in his heart, but there was no time for words. The knights closed in again. Their numbers were halved, but they were still a formidable threat. "Stay behind me. Don't wander off," he said grimly, gripping the piston rod and charging towards the knights. Elara followed close behind. Fighting side-by-side, wounded as they were, they exuded a desperate, fearless intensity.
After another half-hour of chasing and skirmishing, the ground was littered with knight's bodies, blood collecting in small streams trickling across the terrain. The few remaining knights, seeing the tide had turned, fled towards the Rustwood Forest. Liam wanted to pursue, but exhaustion overwhelmed him; he staggered and fell to the ground, the wound on his chest making it hard to breathe.
Elara also collapsed, unable to stand. The wound on her left arm had split open again, blood flowing freely. Her face was deathly pale, her breathing shallow. Liam struggled over to her side, took out the remaining mineral crystals, crushed them, and applied them to her wound. His movements were gentle but hurried. "Bear with it."
Elara nodded, clenching her teeth without a sound. Looking at Liam's numerous wounds, her eyes filled with guilt. "I'm sorry. I dragged you into this." If not for her, Liam wouldn't be an enemy of the Imperial pursuit squad, wouldn't be so badly wounded.
"Talking about it is useless," Liam looked up at her, his tone flat. "The pursuit squad has pulled back for now, but more will come soon. We can't stay here. We need to find a safer place." He recalled from the original host's memories a live volcano at the center of Rust Island. The area around the crater was rugged, easy to defend, hard to attack. Plus, there were abundant volcanic ores there. Perhaps they could find something to suppress the curse and evade the pursuit squad's search.
Elara nodded, agreeing with his idea. "The crater area is indeed secluded. But it's a long journey, and there are many beasts along the way. With our injuries, reaching it will be difficult."
"Hard or not, we have to try. Better than waiting here to die," Liam pushed himself up, reaching out to help Elara, but she avoided his hand again. Gritting her teeth, she used one hand to push herself slowly to her feet, her gaze still defiant. "I can walk myself."
Liam didn't insist, simply handing her his utility knife. "Take this. For protection." Then, he picked up his steam revolver, scavenged some dried rations and water from the knight's bodies, stuffed them into his pack, and headed deeper into the Rustwood Forest. Elara followed closely. Their figures moved across Rust Island in the breaking dawn, heading towards the volcano.
The Rustwood Forest grew denser along the way, branches tangled and interlaced, the ground covered in sharp metal shards and animal bones. Occasional beastly roars echoed from the depths, carrying a sense of danger. Liam led the way, using the piston rod to clear obstructing branches. Elara followed, each step agony from the pain in her left arm, but she endured silently without a single complaint.
After walking for what felt like a long time, they reached a steep slope. It was covered in loose scree, treacherous and hard to climb. At the top, the outline of the crater was faintly visible, emitting a faint wisp of white smoke. Liam looked back at Elara, seeing her face grow paler, her breath more shallow, and stopped. "Let me help you up."
This time, Elara didn't refuse, allowing Liam to support her arm. Leaning on each other, they climbed step by step up the steep slope. Loose stones skittered down, their feet slipping frequently, nearly falling several times, only stabilizing by supporting each other.
Finally, they reached the top, standing at the edge of the crater. The crater before them was vast, its depths churning with glowing magma that cast a dark red light. A wave of heat hit their faces, dispersing the surrounding mist. The air was thick with the pungent smell of sulfur. Scattered around the crater's rim were numerous silvery-glowing ores – the volcanic ore that could suppress the Rust-Corrosion curse.
Liam walked over to the ore, picked up a piece, and held it in his palm. A cool sensation spread from his hand, calming the faint, restless stirring of the curse within him. He turned to look at Elara, who was resting against a rock, her complexion slightly improved. He walked over and handed her a piece of ore. "Take it. It'll help with the injury."
Elara took the ore. A cool feeling spread from her fingertips, the internal heat gradually receding, the pain from her wounds lessening a bit. She looked up at Liam, her silver eyes complex. "Why did you save me? We were strangers. And you've made an enemy of the Empire because of it."
Liam looked at her, silent for a moment, then spoke slowly. "On Rust Island, survival is hard enough. To stand by and do nothing... that makes you no better than an animal. Besides, Elias brewing Rust-Corrosion potions might be connected to the curse I carry. Saving you... is also saving myself." He paused, his gaze firm. "I need to find a way to lift this curse. Perhaps that starts with uncovering Elias's conspiracy. If you're willing, we can join forces."
Elara stared at him for a long time, seeing no deceit in his eyes, only sincerity and determination. The wariness in her heart gradually faded. She thought of her fallen knights, of Elias's cruelty, of her silver wolf's sacrifice. A resolute glint flashed in her eyes. "Alright," she said slowly. "I'll join you. Here, at this volcano, I swear: We will destroy Elias, overthrow the hypocritical Empire, and uncover the truth of the curse. If I break this vow, may I be consumed by the volcano's magma, my soul bound to Rust Island, never to find peace."
As her words fell, a low rumble came from the depths of the crater. The magma churned more violently, as if answering her oath. Looking at her determined expression, Liam also raised his right hand, his voice low and firm. "I, Liam, swear with Elara. To break the curse, to fight the Empire together. If I break this vow, may we be buried together in this volcano, never to rise again."
The vow made, they looked at each other, a deep understanding passing between them. The morning light spilled into the crater, lengthening their shadows. The heat waves, carrying the sulfur smell, swept past, but couldn't disperse the resolve in their hearts. An alliance that crossed status and past was quietly forged in the crucible of iron and blood at the volcano's rim. Unbeknownst to them, this pact would eventually stir up a storm capable of sweeping across the continent.
After resting a while, they began collecting volcanic ore, stuffing pieces into their packs. Liam specifically sought out a few pieces of harder ore, intending to use them for forging weapons. Just as they prepared to leave the crater and find a new shelter, the distant roar of airships sounded, louder than before. Clearly, Imperial reinforcements had arrived. A greater crisis was quietly descending upon them.