Whatever anyone says, war is constantly changing.
Change is its very essence, aimed at developing the perfect method of destroying an enemy.
Every day for tens of centuries, thousands upon thousands of souls spent their precious time developing a more effective method of destroying lives for the sake of, most often, completely ephemeral goals.
And yet, no matter how simple the process becomes, the beast of war is eternally hungry, demanding even more blood.
Duran Bone-Crusher, son of Dugar the Wise, had been the leader of the Iron Teeth clan for an entire generation.
He was a formidable man with a long beard and a very sturdy build, whose time, however, was noticeably coming to an end.
Old age crept up even on the strongest warriors and worthiest rulers, and so at his thirty-eight Solstices, he needed to find a successor.
Yet in this battle, the warrior who had emerged victorious from hundreds of engagements suddenly met the foul face of defeat.
The gods are cruel beings, as distant from humans as the most soulless machines, and only sacrifices can appease them.
In his youth, Duran didn’t particularly believe these words, which is why he extremely rarely offered sacrifices from the trophies gathered during hunts, keeping almost everything for himself and his inner circle.
Thanks to such a practical approach, the natural talent of a true warrior, and the family hammer passed down from his father, it was he who became the head of an entire tribe.
Three and a half hundred people were under his command, and no one from the nearby forests could even think to challenge his authority.
They embodied a strength that made all neighboring tribes fear their raids.
Yet everything has a price, and the wrath of the gods descended upon him as well.
When he grew old and strength began to gradually leave his once-mighty limbs, only then did Duran ponder why, in all these years, not one of his concubines had given him an heir to whom he could pass his power.
And despite all attempts to correct the mistakes of his youth by sacrificing both slaves caught during campaigns and even some steel beasts, he remained alone, forced to watch as his brothers-in-arms already saw worthy replacements appearing.
Duran saw the power-hungry and recognition-seeking gazes of the youth, which forced him to hold onto the family hammer even tighter.
He still remembered himself at that age, and therefore knew what fools were capable of when blood burned in their veins and hands desired nothing more than to crush an enemy’s skull.
Any madness seemed a brave feat through which one could drag a beautiful maiden to bed to release the inner beast.
He knew this well, and so he prepared to offer the gods his final sacrifices with a fight—any day now, when the iron winds calmed and the steel sand settled, the time of festivals and ritual duels would begin.
When the sun emerged from the grey clouds for the first time in the year, blood would drench the earth and fill it with power.
Everyone understood that the question of choosing a new head would arise then.
And even if Duran was a true master who had spilled blood his entire life, and his hammer could crush even the skulls of the mightiest machines, even he would not survive ten duels in a row.
Moreover, there were high chances that the fathers of these idiots would also step in to finally take power into their own hands…
The leader had already accepted that his life would soon end and his ashes would mix with metal, but he still did not intend to give up.
If his line was to end with him, then he would go out taking as many young fools who thought themselves invulnerable as possible.
He would join the ancestors covered in blood and holding souls that just a moment ago were full of life and hopes for a bright future—only then would there be a chance to leave at least something behind…
But everything changed when He arrived.
At first, the whole tribe thought that the End of Times, which the maddened shamans screamed about more and more often, had finally arrived.
The roar of machines came from the heavens themselves, and after a while, even the first beasts that had conquered the very air became visible.
The size of an entire house and black as pitch, dozens of machines descended toward them.
The Iron Teeth were never cowards, but only a fool would think to fight such an unknown threat.
Every man in their tribe who could hold a weapon stepped forward, while the women and children gathered all their belongings for flight.
Duran gripped his hammer with a smile, relishing the entire situation.
To go out in battle with a truly great enemy was much better than dying at the hands of his own people.
If some of them survived, they might even compose a legend about him…
When the iron beasts descended to them and touched the ground, their entire territory trembled.
The weakest-willed boys cringed, freezing in place and looking at the events with horror.
One even tried to flee, dropping his weapon, but the leader’s grim gaze stopped him in his tracks.
Everyone knew well why he had been given such a nickname.
A good warrior hones his art, but a truly great one hones his character—ruthlessness toward enemies and even allies had saved him no fewer times than his fighting skill.
He had already prepared to rush forward to sell his life dearly, but he froze as soon as he saw the one who stepped out.
Despite how short their meeting was, Duran was certain it would never leave his head.
One look at the arriving giant, encased in amazing armor, caused an unstoppable desire to fall to his knees and completely give his life to something greater than the life of one man.
For the first time in his life, Duran wanted to bow before someone.
And there was not even any shame or disgrace in this—the titan walking forward was as far above any human as legendary warriors were above the most pathetic slaves.
Service to him alone could be a way to become part of the great history he was about to create.
With every step of the giant toward them, the pressure grew stronger, and gradually the people behind Duran began to fall to their knees, dropping their weapons to the ground.
And after only a minute, when the shadow of the giant, who was twice as tall as the Bone-Crusher himself, covered the leader, only Duran remained on his feet.
He looked at the newcomer with a mad smile, squeezing the hammer with all his might so as not to show the tremor that had appeared.
Even the greatest warrior experiences fear, and only boasting fools hide it.
And though Duran somehow knew that the giant burning him with an emerald gaze was not a machine, no steel predator had ever caused him such terror.
— Hmm… Curious.
You are the only one left standing, while looking me straight in the eyes.
I suspect you are the leader of this tribe?
The giant’s resounding voice nearly made Duran flinch, but he clenched his teeth in time.
Low, sounding like the grinding of metal, it nevertheless contained a discernible note of respect.
And realizing these feelings, the former confidence flared up in the leader:
— Since you have come to us, you must know this.
All lands within a seven-day journey belong to our clan, and for every piece, we paid with our own blood.
And therefore, we do not like intruders, — he replied, smiling and thereby showing his fangs.
The leader felt his tribe as an extension of himself, and therefore literally physically felt the animal fear that had appeared among every one of his tribesmen.
They saw a giant invincible warrior in terrifying armor and desired last of all to feel his wrath upon themselves.
But Duran knew that by showing weakness, everything would only get worse…
— More and more interesting.
I see in you a great will and a steadfastness of spirit that cannot fail to impress.
I could use such men, — huffing, the giant looked Duran over once more, then turned his gaze toward the rest of the crowd.
— I have arrived with one piece of news.
By right of the strongest, all the lands around and you yourselves are now under my full control.
I know that you choose a new leader through one-on-one combat, and therefore I am ready to meet in battle with any of your warriors.
But first, I will ask—are you sure of this?
There is no honor in a senseless death.
As if by magic, the titan’s armor set into motion.
His right hand became enveloped by liquid metal, which gathered at the fist and began to grow and transform into something completely different.
In just a few seconds, a hammer appeared in his hands, strongly resembling Duran’s family weapon, only about ten times larger and glowing with green light.
The leader of the Iron Teeth was even more amused by this, causing him to lightly shift his hammer and rest it on his shoulder.
He was no fool and did not wish to die sooner than necessary, but to win something for himself?
Always a good idea:
— We are not blind either and see that you are capable of slaughtering us all alone, and therefore we will not act like fools.
You are stronger and therefore deserve to rule, — Duran replied, as if it were a matter of course.
— But true loyalty is earned much longer.
And to help you, I am ready for a deal.
Also, I wouldn’t mind an introduction, to know who our leader is now.
I am listening, — the giant asked with interest, repeating the gesture and placing the giant hammer on his shoulder.
— If you are so mighty and strong, and clearly possess a heap of artifacts, — Duran looked first at the armor and then at the flying machines behind.
— Then are you capable of healing and lifting curses?
If you help me, I swear by my own name and the honor of all my ancestors that I will be your most loyal warrior until the end of my life.
The leader watched the steel mask hiding the giant’s face closely, but understood from the slightly flared eyes that he had piqued even more interest from the man who descended from the heavens.
He thought for a while, starting to look upward, but after a minute he answered.
— Metal is my element, but some things can be healed with its help as well.
First, I need to conduct checks and find out what the problem is, but if there is nothing fatal there, I will manage.
Duran nodded respectfully to the giant, then lowered his hammer to the ground and slowly knelt.
He thought that life was already coming to an end and all great feats had already been accomplished, but now it became clear that this was all just the beginning of something great.
.
.
.
In just a couple of nights, the life of one of the largest tribes of the Dead Man’s Plains changed drastically.
The giant turned out to be not just a great warrior, but a true miracle-worker—he could control metal with a single thought, giving it any shape he wanted.
He turned heaps of old junk, which had been useless to anyone for dozens of generations, into amazing artifacts and tools, as well as objects that simply boggled the imagination.
When, after a single wave of his hand, drops of living metal fell to the ground, at first no one understood what had happened.
And only when the puddle grew, spreading to the heaps of junk, did fear appear, followed soon by shock.
The Lord created several high-rises in the shortest possible time, each of which was about ten human heights tall and five wide.
A mountain of black metal appeared out of nowhere, immediately striking everyone present.
This was no longer just the remains of old technology—it was the manifestation of a true miracle.
— God… of Metal.
The titan suddenly jerked as the first whispers appeared, but said nothing against it.
Having finished examining the giant building he had erected without the slightest difficulty, he turned to the entire stunned tribe and spoke again:
— The Tower is your new place of residence.
It is capable of providing protection from any monster or hostile tribe, but at the same time, it also possesses means of planetary communication, water extraction, and water purification from underground sources, air filters, and even hydroponics systems where certain plants and mushrooms are grown.
For now, it’s not the most complete set of vitamins, and there is a blatant problem with proteins, but you will live without problems for a while.
But only as long as you follow my law.
Duran continued to look with interest at the tower, which looked like a nail that appeared in the middle of a smooth stone surface, but he followed the words and actions of their new leader even more closely.
He still pressed upon their consciousness, making them reflexively feel a desire to serve him, but at the same time, his actions were the best means of gaining loyalty.
Unusual changes, yet few would refuse a safe home and clean water.
He himself had killed for much less.
When Ferrus finished speaking and waved his hand at them, he turned and headed toward the Tower itself.
Before them was a grey steel door and a small light above it, which immediately lit up green as soon as the titan arrived.
The doors slid apart, revealing a long, equally grey room where there were only three colors: black, grey, and green.
— …I will give you all a choice—either you accept my rules and become part of my new state, thereby gaining access to all the benefits of the complex while effectively risking nothing more in life, or you die on the spot, — his calm voice echoed in their heads, seemingly driving a nail in with every word.
— I do not need resistance, and I will suppress even the theoretical possibility of its existence at the root.
Cultists, rapists, and cannibals will be used as experimenters for one of my developments, and this is also non-negotiable.
Such is the new world order.
Of course, no one dared to say a word against it.
Even the Bone-Crusher himself only smirked but accepted the new law.
All inhabitants of the wastes learn from their mother’s milk to live by the laws of the strongest, and everyone who did not learn this rule is already feeding the techno-ghouls.
And even the complete shattering of their habitual way of life, which had allowed their ancestors to survive for dozens of generations, seemed a trifle compared to the idea of seeing the wrath of the iron giant.