The highest peak of the Pandor Continent—referred to as the Pandoa Continent by its inhabitants—is a mountain known as Mount Nakyu. Standing at approximately 5,200 meters, it is a high-altitude peak crowned with perennial snow and draped in glaciers.
Cleverly hidden halfway up its slopes was a ruin. In this context, "ruin" refers to a facility constructed long ago by the Progenitors.
Though it didn't rival the scale of the facility on Onogoro Island, the site was quite substantial. It was a facility that had once functioned for the mining and utilization of resources found in the shallower layers of the Pandor Continent, and it had since been renovated.
Guillermo Marukitasu—known at the time as Golbart Marukitasu—and the executives of the Magic Federation had handled those renovations. That had been over 150 years ago; of everyone involved back then, only Guillermo remained alive.
Colonization of the Pandor Continent had already begun, but not a single soul knew this facility existed.
"It was a stroke of luck that I found Magi Machines for long-term sleep here," Guillermo muttered.
Despite his Northern People heritage, Guillermo’s lifespan was finite. He had judged it more prudent to leave the raid on Hourai Island and the development of golems, aircraft, and battleships to specialized units while he slept and waited for the right moment.
"This place is so well-concealed that no one will find it, no matter how hard they search."
The fact that Hourai Island’s search efforts had yet to reach him served as undeniable proof.
"The Quinta, was it? The intelligence gleaned from them was useful, regardless."
Guillermo had learned through them that Hourai Island possessed magi-radar.
"However, this base should remain undiscovered for a while longer."
Guillermo failed to notice that his current line of thought directly contradicted his ideology of liberating one's spirit from material dependence. Perhaps he was simply feigning ignorance, or maybe he considered it a necessary evil in the process. Then again, it was possible his personality was fracturing due to the spiritual lifeform fragment he had absorbed.
In any case, Guillermo’s actions were fraught with contradictions—no, they were defined by them.
"Once the final preparations are complete, I shall strike."
He already had one hundred combat golems ready. Twenty 50-meter-class battleships were hidden at a separate location.
Time was running out for him—or rather, for his physical body.
One part of him didn't care whether he won or lost, but another part intended to survive and plot the world's destruction all over again. He had considered transferring his consciousness into a golem or an automata, but he had abandoned that path because his current technology was only capable of producing an incomplete transfer.
Guillermo decided that the moment his second gravity-magic-powered large airship—the Large Soaring Ship—was completed, he would officially declare war on the world.
There was no one left to rebuke his madness, and no one to stop him.
The date was October 30, 3899.
"Ugh, the expenses are just getting way too high... Eira-san, can't you do something about this?"
"Don't look at me. What do you expect me to do?"
In the workshop of the national research dormitory in Mahalig, the capital of the Mercana Principality, work on golem development was proceeding at a frantic pace. However, because they couldn't achieve the desired performance without using an abundance of expensive materials, the staff were struggling day and night.
"Why don't you try consulting Groma-san?" Kachea suggested.
"Consult that guy? No way," Eira Shiata said, shaking her head.
Eira and Groma Tray, the Dormitory Head, were not on good terms. They got into a verbal spat nearly every time they crossed paths. But Kachea persisted.
"He is the Dormitory Head, and he is supposed to be an expert in golem crafting. Fine... if you hate the idea that much, Eira-san, I'll go ask him myself."
At Kachea’s words, Eira finally buckled.
"Fine, fine! I’ll go ask him. Happy?"
"Yes! Thank you so much!"
"...I feel like I've been played," Eira muttered, scratching her head as she left their assigned workshop.
At that moment, a violent vibration shook the building.
"What was that?"
A few seconds passed, and then it happened again. Then a third time. With the third tremor, the thunderous sound of something collapsing echoed through the halls.
"What on earth is going on?"
Confused and uneasy, Kachea peered out of a small window.
"Eek!" she gasped, a small scream escaping her lips.
Standing outside were golems she had never seen before. There were dozens of them, and they were laying waste to everything in sight.
Suddenly, an announcement blared over the research dormitory’s intercom:
"Emergency. We are under attack by hostile golems. I repeat: hostile golems detected. All staff are to remain in their rooms. Repeat..."
"W-What should I do...?"
Eira had already left for Groma’s office, leaving Kachea alone. Even though she had been told to stay put, the isolation was terrifying.
The laboratory seemed to have deployed its barrier, as the noise outside muffled slightly, but the attacking golems were a mere twenty meters away, battering against the perimeter.
"I hope the barrier holds..."
From her second-floor vantage point, Kachea could see everything outside. The barrier's protection seemed insufficient against the golems' physical strength; the sturdy stone walls were already starting to crumble.
"Oh, no... What do I do...?" Kachea’s face went deathly pale.
Just then, several golems sallied forth from the laboratory.
"T-Those are Groma-san's golems!"
Groma Tray, the facility's top golem expert, had mobilized four prototypes—including older models—and deployed them at the main gate, where the fighting was fiercest.
"Go!" Groma commanded.
He sent his oldest prototype golem to lead the charge. Just as the barrier frayed and an enemy unit forced its way inside, Groma’s Prototype Golem No. 3 slammed into the intruder.
Though they were roughly equal in size and weight, the force of the surprise impact sent the enemy reeling, blasting it back out through the gate.
"Reconstruct the barrier while you can!" Groma barked.
He sent Prototype Golem No. 3 out past the gates to maintain the momentum, and a moment later, the barrier shimmered back into place.
"Alright, No. 3, go wild!"
The prototype was now facing three enemy golems at once, but it held its own. Groma’s engineering was a product of Lordtoss’s teaching, which meant it carried the lineage of Adriana. One of its greatest strengths was its incredible durability; even after taking heavy hits, it wouldn't suddenly cease functioning.
This was the same No. 3 that had once engaged in a mock battle with Jin’s Hope. This time, however, it was wielding a heavy mace instead of a sword. Against metal-bodied golems, a sword was inefficient; a crushing weapon like a mace was far more effective.
No. 3 refused to give an inch against the three enemies.
"Good, I'll leave this gate to you. Follow me—No. 1, No. 2, and No. 4!"
Leading the remaining three units, Groma rushed toward another section of the facility. At the back gate, two enemy golems were already attempting to break in. Groma dispatched No. 1 and No. 2 to intercept them. Since these two were older and less capable than No. 3, they were only just able to hold their ground in one-on-one combat.
"These are incredibly powerful golems," Groma muttered, his brow furrowed. "Who sent them? And why?"
Looking out toward the city, Groma watched in horror as the administrative office of the Council of Ten collapsed in the distance.
"What...!"
Realizing the mysterious automatons were laying waste to the entire capital, not just his laboratory, Groma turned pale.
"The capital's soldier golems should have been deployed by now. But they haven't shown up to support us. That means..."
Either there were so many breach points that the laboratory was being left to fend for itself... or the city’s defenses had already been annihilated. Groma desperately searched for a way to turn the tide, but no solution presented itself.
"There’s no chance help will come from the Jagus Principality," he muttered.
He knew that in a crisis, they would discard the Mercana Principality without a second thought. The realization filled him with a bitter surge of frustration.