The massive cloud of dust began to settle. It revealed the scar where the mine entrance had been.
Mercenaries outside the collapsed tunnel didn't hesitate. They surged forward. A chaotic wave of muscle and magic. Shouts ripped away the sudden quiet.
"Jules!"
"Brother Mike! Answer me!"
"Hey Lena! Is Lena in there?"
Transcendent individuals here had their powers honed for carving through monster hordes. Now, they turned them on tons of earth and stone.
Some mechanical hands glowed with raw energy. Vaporizing smaller rocks. Others conjured spectral picks. Or simply heaved aside car-sized boulders with unnatural strength.
Desperation fueled them. Friends, partners, family members were buried under that mess.
Jack moved with them. His human body was not as powerful as his draugr one. But they were still very strong. They were built for this kind of labor. He hefted a section of shattered support beam, tossing it aside like a splinter.
Big Bill was also working desperately. His huge frame straining as he tried to pry apart stuck rocks.
"Godamnit! My little brother, Danny, was still there." Bill grunted. Sweat already plastered his hair to his forehead. "He was in the team clearing H-02 section."
O.J. joined them. His mechanical arm whirring as he it drilled a big stone on the wreckage. "My technician, Ria, was still there too." He said. "She went in with the support crew. I need her to calibrate the mechanical parts I could not reach."
Will was younger and less physically imposing than the three. And he practically had no connection to whoever was still stuck in the mine. But he helped out. Although he struggled to move smaller debris. His face was pale with dust and worry.
Old Sam, however, wasn't digging. He was sniffing the air. His weathered face etched with suspicion. He knelt. Poking a finger into the pulverized dust near where the entrance had been. His eyes narrowed.
"Gunpowder..." Sam stated. His voice was low and rough. He sniffed again. Picking up a different scent. "And lime. Like quicklime."
He stood up quickly. Pulling his heavy revolver from its holster. And activated his mechanical buckler into full sized round shield. The click of the shield mechanism activating was stark against the sounds of frantic digging.
"This wasn't an accident." Sam said. His eyes scanning the tree line behind them. Not the rubble. "Explosives. Carefully planned."
He swung his revolver to cover their backs. "Everyone! Watch the tre-"
Gunshots erupted. Not the heavy detonations from the mercenaries' effort to open the mine entrance. But sharp, rapid fire. From behind the group of digging mercenaries.
Yells turned into screams. Several mercenaries dropped. Blood was blooming on their backs and chests. The digging stopped instantly. Heads whipped around.
A large group, easily seventy or eighty people, emerged from the cover of the trees. They were a mix of appearances. Some wore leather jackets and goggles. Others had intricate bio-mechanical implants visible on their faces and arms.
Their clothes were a patchwork of functional gear and garish color pops. So were their weapons. They carried a mix of weapons. Old assault rifles. Modified energy carbines. Even what looked like modified industrial tools spitting lethal bolts.
Bill roared. Grabbing his own cannon-like handgun. He took a shot to his right hip. The slug slammed into his thick flesh. Making him stumble.
But he didn't fall. Red seeped quickly into his trousers. But he ignored it.
"These bastards!" He bellowed. Raising his handgun. And retaliating by blasting some accurate bullets that blow the enemies' heads.
Jack also reacted instantly. Will was frozen beside him. Jack shoved the younger man behind his massive body. Just as a round screamed past his ear. Another hit his waist. A brutal impact that felt like a sledgehammer.
His enhanced body shrugged off the immediate incapacitation. But the pain hurt like hell. He brought his Steamrune Shotgun up. Aiming at the densest group of assailants. And pulled the trigger.
The weapon roared. Spitting a cone of superheated shrapnel and energy bolts. Several attackers screamed. Torn apart or sent flying backwards in smoking heaps. Scatter shot. Effective against many opponents.
The fight was on. Mercenaries who had been digging were now fighting for their lives.
These weren't green recruits. They were the teams who had finished their assigned mine sections first. Meaning... they were faster, more efficient, likely more skilled than average.
Each one fought with a practiced ruthlessness forged in countless monster hunts.
A Mystic Scholar was flinging bolts of crackling lightning. A Steamrune Engineer unleashed snarling, mechanical hounds. Another Steamrune Engineer unleashed a burst of blazing steam from his gun, scalding attackers.
But the newcomers were numerous. They pushed forward relentlessly. Heedless of casualties. They didn't just have numbers. They had fierce mentality. And no fear.
Some of them were clearly transcendent themselves. Their aura showed that. And their bodies could also be seen moving with unnatural speed. And shrugged off hits that would kill a normal man.
But, many others in that group were just normal people. Normal people with transcendent weapons. Ones that hummed with rune-enhanced power. Allowing them to compete with the transcendent individuals.
"Don't show any mercy! They are Eternal Soul Cutlists!" Old Sam shouted behind his shield. Firing his revolver with deadly accuracy. Headshot after headshot.
"Super dumb addicts, they were!" Bill added. Still bleeding but still a whirlwind of violence with his cannon-like handgun. "I bet they were high! Drugged! Not smart enough to feel fear!"
The gunfight continued...
And soon devolved into a chaotic mixed of ranged and melee combat around the collapsed mine entrance. Bullets whizzed through the air. Spells crackled. And the clang of metal on metal was constant.
The mercenaries were being pushed back. Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attackers. Which kept increasing. It was a bloodbath.
Jack fought methodically. Shoot. Reload. Shoot. His shotgun was devastating at close range. But the attackers kept coming and were now mixed with the mercenaries. He could not use his shotgun's scatter shot. Or he would damage his allies.
He switched to a handgun. Firing rapidly. Suppressing flanks. Protecting Will who was scrambling. To find cover and reload his borrowed handgun.
Through the chaos, Jack noticed something specific. The Eternal Soul cultists weren't just attacking everyone indiscriminately.
A significant number of them were focusing on a single target. A teenager. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. The one wearing impeccably crafted, rune-etched plate armor below his ragged tunic. And dual wielding a gleaming, mechanical sword and an exquisite rune pistol.
He was fighting valiantly. Surrounded by a few professional-looking mercenaries trying to protect him. But the focus on him was undeniable.
He was of Will's age. But clearly from a different world. He was secretly equipped like a noble embarking on a crusade.
Jack filed the observation away. Political target? Ransom? Didn't matter now. Survival came first.
Jack took a bullet on his his shoulder and a stab to his left arm. He grunted and quickly retaliated. He choked the stabber with one hand and threw him to the shooter brutally.
He observed his team. He saw Big Bill take another hit. This time to his stomach. The impact stopped him on his feet.
O.J.'s right mechanical leg sparked violently. A large caliber bullet struck it. He faltered. His balance was gone.
Old Sam was still using his mechanical shield. But smoke was rising from the metal as it absorbed high-caliber rounds. He was straining to hold his ground. They were in deep trouble.
Just as the mercenary line seemed on the verge of breaking, Jack felt it. An oppressive weight settling over the battlefield. Not from the ground, but from above. He instinctively looked up.
The sky was clear moments ago. Now, a dark shape descended rapidly. It wasn't a bird. Or a cloud. It was huge. Metallic. And utterly alien against the natural landscape.
A massive mecha. Designed to look like a winged ape. Built from gleaming, dark steel plates. And glowing blue runes. Pistons pumped. Exhaust vented steam like angry breath all over its joints.
Its enormous, articulated wings, were also made of layered metal. They folded back as it dropped. And...
It landed with a thunderous impact. Right in the middle of the Eternal Soul attackers. The ground shook. A crater formed instantly.
"Big Boss!" Big Bill bellowed. A strained grin was on his bloodied face despite his wounds. "Big Boss Abe Lodegrey! I knew he'd show up!"
Jack knew who he meant. Big Boss Abe Lodegrey, the current president of the Mercenary Union. A legendary Steamrune Engineer who had internalized nine steamrunes. Descendant of Isaac Lodegrey, the creator of Steamrune Engineering Crafts.
Now, his mecha stood tall, easily six meters high. Its ape-like head swiveled. Glowing optical sensors sweeping the area.
Its massive hands, designed like oversized ape fists, clenched. Steam hissed from vents along its arms and chest.
The reaction from the Eternal Soul cultists were unexpected. Instead of escaping, they were charging in suicidal fury.
A few turned their weapons on the mecha. Rounds pinging harmlessly off its reinforced plating. The large majority, clearly the 'dumbed addicts' Bill mentioned, charged forward with manic screams.
Jack was dazed with that stupidity. The mecha moved with brutal efficiency. It didn't bother with finesse.
One cultist, armed with a steam rifle, got too close. The mecha's left fist swung out. A blur of metal. The cultist wasn't just hit. He was flattened into a paste. Smeared across the earth like spilled paint.
And then, a volley of heavy caliber rounds erupted from a cannon mounted on the mecha's shoulder. Ripping through the charging cultists like paper dolls. Blood and gore splattered all over.
The fight shifted from a desperate struggle for the mercenaries. To a merciless execution. The Mecha was an unstoppable force of nature.
Its size alone was already intimidating. But its speed and power were even more terrifying. It moved with a heavy grace. Smashing attackers. Stomping others into the ground. Its glowing rune lines pulsing with immense power.
A cultist in some kind of powered armor tried to leap onto the mecha's arm. The mecha simply grabbed him. Its metal fingers closing with bone-crushing force.
The powered armor crumpled like tin foil. The man inside screaming for a second before being squeezed into oblivion. The mecha tossed the crushed remains aside like garbage.
Then... Its right arm ended in a devastating, oversized Steamrune Gatling Gun. It spun up. A low growl building to a thunderous roar. Unleashed a torrent of superheated rounds.
The line of Eternal Soul attackers melted. Metal weapons vaporized. Flesh boiled and disintegrated. They were being erased from existence.
The air filled with the stench of ozone, burnt metal, and cooked flesh. The mecha didn't stop until the last cultist standing was dead. It was brutal, overwhelming, and absolute.
Silence fell once more. Broken only by the mecha's heavy metallic breathing. And the pained groans of the wounded mercenaries. The mecha lowered one mighty fist to the ground. Steam was venting from its joints.
Jack, bloody but functional, watched the mecha. Then his eyes tracked from it to the young mercenary target. The well-equipped teenager was still alive. He was staring at the mecha with calm expression.
Jack could see that the teen gaze met the mecha's glowing optical sensors. There was a brief, silent acknowledgement that passed between them. Between the giant machine and the young man.
It was not surprise. Not relief. But something akin to a prearranged signal. A shared understanding.
It seemed that this wasn't just a random ambush by fanatics. This was something else. This was organized. Targeted. And involving people important enough to have a gigantic walking tank as a personal guard.
It was definitely related to... politics. High-level, dangerous politics.
Jack looked at the collapsed mine entrance. At his wounded team behind him. Big Bill was sitting down now, clutching his hip. O.J. was inspecting his damaged leg. Old Sam calmly reloaded his pistol. Will was still looking shell-shocked.
He thought of the trapped people inside the mine. The dead mercenaries scattered around them. The wiped-out cultists. And the towering mecha, sentinel over the carnage.
He understood. This was bigger than him. Bigger than a simple mercenary mission. This was the kind of mess that got you buried without a trace.
Jack decided right then and there. Whatever was going on between the cultists, the targeted teenager, and the 'Big Boss' of the Mercenary Union... He wanted no part of it.
His goal was vengeance for the innocent. Not getting caught in the crossfire of powerful factions.
It was time to focus on the living. And maybe find a way to get the trapped out of the mine.