With a newfound sense of urgency, I steeled myself for the difficult tasks at hand. The city of Jagar was under threat, and the clock was ticking. I recognized that intelligent action, not rash decisions, was the way to proceed.
"I apologize in advance for what's to come," I told Marcus, though I was unsure if he deserved any form of apology. "But you're a link to understanding this horror, and I'll use that link until it breaks."
Marcus sneered, but there was an undercurrent of resignation in his face. He had no choice but to cooperate. "Let's get this farce over with, then. Be quick about it," he grunted.
I spent the next few hours poring over the head, meticulously analyzing the dark magic that kept it alive. My own knowledge of Divinity Crystals had given me insight into arcane energies, but this was something different, something more sinister.
Time was of the essence, so I worked with a rigorous focus, probing for weaknesses, any form of counter-magic, or clues that could lead to reversing the process. The task was grueling, and the head was less than cooperative, but by the day's end, I had gathered a considerable amount of data. It wasn't a solution, but it was a start.
Exhausted but determined, I finally decided to pay a visit to Princess Lilliana once more. Our prior encounter had been less than stellar, to say the least, but perhaps with a cooler head, we could reach an understanding.
I found her pacing in her massive private quarters, eyes stormy with the same rage and frustration I had seen earlier at the training grounds. Her presence demanded attention—every bit the princess and the warrior.
"Princess Lilliana," I began, with caution evident in my tone, "we didn't get off to the best start, but I'm here to offer my help, not to be an enemy."
She whirled around, her gaze dagger sharp. "Help that comes with chains attached is no help at all, Prince Gideon," she retorted. "Your engagement, your father's madness, your... situation with Marcella—I want no part of it."
I took a step forward, trying to bridge the gap forged from misunderstandings and necessity. "I won't lie to you—our situation is beyond complicated. But you must see, we're on the brink of catastrophe. Whatever our feelings about our betrothal, the people out there need us to work together."
Her expression softened slightly, the fierceness giving way to the weight of reality. "I know. My people, my family—they're all that matters. But do not mistake my willingness to cooperate for acceptance of this farce of an engagement."
I nodded, agreeing with her fierce independence. "Understood. For now, let's focus on saving Jagar. Once that's done, we'll address the rest."
"Fine, but then what do you suggest, oh great warrior?" She sneered at me, so I reached my hand out to the side, and Golemzilla materialized.
-One Week Ago-
"Are you going to give him a name?" Alex asked me, and I looked up at my servant from the large arm I was adjusting the joints on.
"Name?" I asked like it should be obvious, but Alex wasn't from Earth so he wouldn't recognize the mini-nuclear lizard titan I was building.
"Yes, Prince Gideon," Alex insisted with a hint of mirth. "If you're going to create a mechanical beast of such magnitude, it seems only fitting that it has a name—a title to instill fear in our enemies and hope in our allies."
The idea was preposterous, yet amusing. "Golemzilla, then," I declared with mock solemnity, an ode to the colossal creatures of Earth's cinematic lore. The towering automaton I had engineered, imbued with Divinity Crystals and the pinnacle of my craftsmanship skills, was indeed a formidable presence.
-Present-
Princess Lilliana's eyes widened at the sight of the mechanical monstrosity. For a moment, her anger seemed to evaporate, replaced by sheer awe. "Golemzilla?" she echoed, the hint of a smile teasing the corner of her lips.
"Yes," I said, a sense of pride swelling within me. "I crafted it to aid in our defense, and I do hope it's impressive enough to meet your standards as a warrior."
She circled Golemzilla, taking stock of its capabilities, and the strength etched into its design. My creation seemed to pass her inspection as she finally nodded approval. "Impressive indeed. This... Golemzilla could be the turning point we need."
"I don't know about that. It's a 12-foot-tall lizard that doesn't really accel in speed, and I only have one of them," I admitted, and then stored it away again, and then brought out a gun that I had made but with the sheer size of the army out there, the 40 I had made would be pointless.
The gun was one of many in my arsenal, sleek and potent, designed to harness the power contained within Divinity Crystals. But I knew that despite their power, they would be like drops in the ocean against the sheer number of enemies out there.
Princess Lilliana's expression turned serious once more. "If we're to have any hope, we can't rely on strength alone," she said. "We need strategy, ingenuity, and... we need everyone cooperating, including me."
"If you have any idea, I can whip together a shop to make them a reality. I am not a warrior, I am a craftsman, so if you can dream it, I can try to make it a reality," I explained, and she raised an eyebrow at me.
"What are you a craftsman of? Isn't that a little bit broad?" She asked skeptically, and I grinned.
"My skills cover a range of specialties," I replied with confidence. "I'm adept at woodworking, masonry, metalworking, all forms of construction and crafting. If it involves building or creating, I can find a way to make it happen—whether it's forging weapons, constructing defenses, or designing machines like Golemzilla."
She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment as if reassessing her initial impression. I could see the wheels turning in her head, a strategic mind considering the possibilities my talents provided.
"You truly are a Master Craftsman," Princess Lilliana finally said, a hint of respect coloring her tone. "Perhaps there's more to you than the political pawn I took you for. Very well, let's put those skills to use. There's much to be done, and we have no time to waste."
Her words were more a command than a suggestion, but I didn't mind the directive nature. It was refreshing to meet someone who not only recognized the urgency of our predicament but was also willing to act on it.
As we got to work, laying out plans and devising strategies, I felt a renewed sense of hope. Here was a partner in this fight—not the bride I had been expected to accept, but the ally we both needed in these dark times.
Together, Lilliana and I poured over designs and schematics, her knowledge of Jagar's defenses and terrain amplifying my understanding of what needed to be constructed. We debated, discussed, and eventually decided on a series of fortifications and weapons that could be crafted swiftly and deployed effectively.
As the day wore on, I realized that while our engagement had been a matter of royal decree, our partnership was becoming one of mutual respect and shared goals. She was every bit the warrior I'd heard of, but also a leader who was passionately determined to protect her kingdom.
By the time we called it a day, Princess Lilliana and I had a plan of action that could very well turn the tide in Jagar's defense. I felt a renewed vigor, knowing that together we could make a difference. And as we walked back from the war room, there was an air of camaraderie between us—a foundation upon which, just maybe, something stronger could be built.