Chapter Thirty-Three: Master of Ingenuity!

When Sun Licheng and Unit 133 rushed downstairs, they found the Lord of the Stars and the God of the Earth already awaiting them.

Before Sun Licheng could ask anything, the Lord of the Stars signaled him to approach the cave entrance.

“It seems we’ve drawn the attention of certain parties—they’ve sent new monsters,” the Lord of the Stars explained gravely.

Peering out from behind the corpse of the centipede beast, Sun Licheng spotted two small black dots in the distance. Focusing his senses on them, information soon filtered into his mind.

These creatures resembled rhinoceroses, towering over three meters tall, each sporting a massive horn upon its head, giving it a formidable and solid appearance.

“What are those?” Sun Licheng inquired.

“Bronbar Gatecrasher Rhinoceros,” the Lord of the Stars replied. “They’re a draconic variant, usually found in the Bronbar Mountains. The horns on their heads are formidable, able to pierce steel. Most troublesome of all, their hides are incredibly tough, nearly impervious to ordinary weapons. Coupled with their innate stone-skin spell, they are the aces of siege warfare. I never expected to encounter such foes here; clearly, someone does not wish us to leave easily.”

He swung his long blade through the air, his tone cold and resolute.

“Even the Goblin Empire’s weapons can’t handle them?” Sun Licheng asked, clinging to a shred of hope.

“No. The Goblin Empire’s arms are sharper than average, but they’re still conventional weapons. Even without magic, those rhinoceroses’ hides can’t be pierced,” the God of the Earth replied, shaking his head.

“What about cannons? The big ones—I saw some in the storeroom that looked much larger than what we used before,” Sun Licheng mused, recalling the massive magestone cannons stored away.

“That might work. They probably won’t expect us to have ranged firepower. If we catch them off guard from a distance, it could do the trick,” the Lord of the Stars said, stroking his chin as blue light flickered in his eyes.

Without delay, Sun Licheng led Unit 133 and several battle automatons to the cannon warehouse and, with much hauling and tugging, brought out four magestone cannons.

These cannons were not only massive, but each was equipped with five magestone slots—a clear sign of their immense power.

“This is the Goblin Empire’s Mark II War Defense Cannon. It can use up to five magestones per shot, and theoretically, it can slay a dragon at a range of three thousand goblin-meters. It’s a division-level support weapon,” Unit 133 explained as it inspected the cannon.

Hearing that each shot required five magestones, Sun Licheng hastily produced his pouch, pouring out and counting the stones.

“Thirty-eight in total. The twin-headed hellhound alone took twenty-three. Fifteen remain, and only six of those are the large kind. Not much at all,” he muttered, his heart aching at the cost.

But seeing the solemn faces of the Lord of the Stars and the God of the Earth, Sun Licheng reluctantly loosened his grip on the pouch.

“Five it is. Out with the old, in with the new. To hell with it all,” he declared, though he still hesitated, tightening and loosening his hold several times before finally handing the pouch to Unit 133.

“Use the ones from the twin-headed hound first. We still have plenty of magestone cannons,” he added hastily, as if remembering something.

Working together, they quickly cleared the centipede beast corpses from the cave entrance, opening up a line of fire.

By now, they could clearly see the rhinoceroses—two towering, imposing beasts with colossal horns, standing amidst the sea of centipede monsters like mountains amid crashing waves, advancing slowly toward the wreck of the supply ship.

With the help of two battle automatons, Unit 133 rolled the magestone cannon to the entrance, loaded five black stones from the pouch into the slots, and aimed at the nearest gatecrasher rhinoceros.

A thunderous blast shook the chamber as a thick black beam shot from the barrel, striking the rhinoceros squarely. The cannon’s recoil sent it skidding backward.

The advancing giant rhinoceros halted abruptly, letting out an ear-shattering roar. Before the cry even faded, its body exploded like a balloon, engulfed in black smoke. The blast sent a horde of centipede beasts flying skyward, and chunks of flesh rained down like a macabre shower.

“Incredible power!” Sun Licheng exclaimed in awe.

“Powerful, yes, but that was five magestones from the hellhound—wasted in a single shot! Never mind rhinoceroses; even an angel would be blasted to dust by that. What a spendthrift! Next time, tell that iron lump to use less, or we’ll blow ourselves up before the enemy even dies,” the God of the Earth scolded, kicking the now charred and deformed magestone cannon.

Realizing Unit 133 had overloaded the cannon, Sun Licheng glared at him. But automatons, driven by programming, knew only to follow instructions—no one had told him otherwise. Unfazed by Sun Licheng’s anger, Unit 133 stared back calmly until Sun Licheng gave up.

“Next time, use only three black stones. Any more, and I’ll kick you out to fight the monsters yourself,” Sun Licheng grumbled, resigned, waving for Unit 133 to fire again.

The second Bronbar gatecrasher, seeing its companion obliterated, charged forward, spurring the centipede beasts into a frenzied chorus—but to no avail.

Another blast thundered out, another black beam, and the second giant rhinoceros was likewise blasted to pieces, taking scores of centipede beasts with it to the underworld.

Even these savage centipede monsters knew fear. With both rhinoceroses dead, they retreated in a tidal wave, scattering into the distance.

The immediate danger passed, but the Lord of the Stars remained tense.

“Sun Licheng, speed up gathering materials. By tomorrow morning at the latest, we must break through—or who knows what horrors they’ll send next. In the war of old, even dragons and angels were mere cannon fodder,” he ordered, preparing to leave with the God of the Earth.

As the two deities departed, Sun Licheng, still mourning his lost magestones, grabbed Unit 133. “Did the Goblin Empire burn through magestones this way too? How many monsters would they need for that?”

“Master, the Goblin Empire could recharge magestones,” Unit 133 replied unexpectedly.

“What?” Sun Licheng leaped to his feet.

“Magestones can indeed be recharged. Not only those produced by the Goblin Empire, but even the ones in your possession,” the Lord of the Stars interjected, turning back with a look one might reserve for the illiterate.

“However, different types of energy cannot coexist within a magestone—it’s dangerous and may cause explosions. For instance, goblin-made magestones can’t be charged with divine power, and fire-aspected magestones can’t be charged with water energy. So while it’s theoretically simple, the process is extremely demanding. Only the Goblin Empire had the capability for large-scale recharging. For us gods, it’s more efficient to grant artifacts to our followers than to recharge magestones,” the God of the Earth explained.

Only then did Sun Licheng grasp the might of the Goblin Empire, realizing that his hopes of recharging magestones himself were dashed.

But just then, the Lord of the Stars startled him with a pronouncement.

“Others can’t, but he can,” he said, pointing at Sun Licheng and addressing the God of the Earth.

“Indeed. This little fellow possesses the Taiji Diagram. The Taiji vortex within him divides all energies into yin and yang, giving him natural affinity. He can recharge magestones,” the God of the Earth said, suddenly enlightened.

Sun Licheng’s body was a freak of this world—a goblin, but forged with divine power, his elemental affinity and spellcasting ability surpassing even dragons. The Taiji practice and diagram he had brought from Earth miraculously transformed all kinds of energy, creating a balanced Taiji vortex within him. Thus, Sun Licheng’s Taiji vortex was the ideal source for recharging magestones in this world.

He wanted to ask more about the process, but the Lord of the Stars cut him off.

“Get to work first,” he snapped, leaving with the God of the Earth.

Left in the lurch, Sun Licheng wiped his nose sullenly and turned to Unit 133.

“Bring out Dogmeat and assemble him. We’ll take him to the repair bay and fix him up,” he ordered.

The assembly went quickly, and soon Sun Licheng, Unit 133, and Dogmeat were on their way to the supply ship’s repair bay.

As the fleet’s supply ship, the bay was immense, crammed with materials and half-repaired machines, dazzling Sun Licheng with its abundance.

While Unit 133 led Dogmeat in search of spare parts, Sun Licheng began his own treasure hunt.

The bay had several levels. Above the main chamber were smaller rooms. Climbing up, Sun Licheng found a door ajar, the floor strewn with finely crafted mechanical parts—far more delicate than those below.

“This must be where they fix precision equipment. There ought to be some real treasures here,” he thought, stepping inside.

Three racks holding battle automatons were crumpled together, the floor a chaotic mess, much like the rest of the bay.

Suddenly, a large round head caught his eye. He approached, eyes widening in shock.

“This… How can it be?”

He gasped.

It was a peculiar mechanical puppet—a huge round head, four telescoping circular eyes, eight octopus-like tentacles, and beneath the head, no body, just a long jet port.

“Damn—it’s Mister Handy!” he exclaimed.

Anyone who’d played Fallout would recognize this famous robot, one of the most iconic characters in the series. Seeing it here, Sun Licheng was struck with a sense of temporal dislocation.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the Goblin Empire’s Mister Handy differed greatly from the game version—this was a steampunk variant, all clunky pipes and heavy metal, whereas the game’s Mister Handy was much sleeker.

“But that’s no matter!” Sun Licheng shouted, waving his arms beside the goblin version of Mister Handy.

“This is the Goblin Empire’s precision maintenance automaton—highly intelligent, with a CPU at least ten times the size of a standard one. Very rare and valuable, typically found only in special repair departments,” Unit 133 said, approaching with the repaired Dogmeat.

“In that case, I’m changing the plan. Dogmeat will keep his body, and you’ll transfer into the maintenance automaton. From now on, your name is Mister Handy,” Sun Licheng declared.

“What about this automaton?” Unit 133 had no objection—the enormous CPU and ample headspace could house plenty of processors.

“Just stick any CPU in it. It’ll just be used for hauling gear, doesn’t need to be smart. From now on, it’s Machine No. 1. Oh, and add extra magestone slots to your bodies for backup power,” Sun Licheng decided with a wave.

Watching the busy figures of Unit 133—now Mister Handy—Dogmeat, and the clumsy Machine No. 1, Sun Licheng was swept up by a surge of ambition.

“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”

Just then, Unit 133 turned around.

“Master, the Lord of the Stars requests your immediate presence below.”