[Alexander PoV]

"I told you! What did I fucking say? The road is crawling with monsters, but do you listen? No!" The spectral rabbit floated inches from Alexander's face. It's translucent form flickering with repressed anger. Its ears twitched irritably, its paws seemed to try to punch his face, but it went through every time.

"Heavens above, if you'd rid me of this guardian, I swear I'll be the most diligent in this mission," Alexander muttered to the skies, hoping for divine intervention. But no voice or notification answered his plea; the gods remained silent.

He released a long, weary sigh and fixed his gaze ahead. His horse galloped steadily, unfazed by its rider's antics.

"Here come two more," the rabbit remarked, its tone a blend of annoyance and warning.

From the underbrush flanking the road, two goblins sprang forth. Small and wiry, their greenish skin was mottled with dirt and scars. Each brandished a crude dagger, their eyes glinting with hunger as they darted toward the horse's legs, aiming to bring it down.

Without a hint of panic, Alexander raised his right arm, leveling it at the first goblin. His movements were fluid, almost mechanical, betraying countless repetitions of the same action.

[Shoot] He commanded.

From the palm of his hand, sparks of energy mixed, shimmering with a bluish hue. The air hummed as a concentrated bolt of energy crackled to life, forming a sphere before shooting toward the goblin.

[Shoot] He repeated, pivoting to target the second goblin.

A second bolt materialized and discharged, the twin balls of energy shot at blinding speed.

The bolts struck their marks with the precision of a marksman. Upon impact, each goblin was swallowed in a flash. The searing energy obliterated their upper bodies in an instant, leaving no time for a scream. The remnants—their spindly legs and lower torsos—collapsed to the ground. Blood pooled, darkening the dusty path, while fragments of bone and viscera scattered like confetti.

All this transpired without the horse breaking stride. It maintained its pace as if such interruptions were mere trifles.

"Damn it! You're going to drain the entire battery," the rabbit scolded, its voice rising in agitation. "Look at your arm. It's going to break!"

Alexander shook his head, fatigue weighing upon him. Yet, despite his frustration, he couldn't deny that the rabbit floating mere inches from his face was correct. Wisps of smoke began to curl from the joints of his right arm. Without delay, he swept aside the cloak over his shoulder and revealed a magical-mechanical arm. It looked to have been crafted from enchanted metals and adorned with arcane runes that pulsed with mana.

"Shit. The mana flow has jammed the movement mechanism," he explained, his mind racing to troubleshoot the issue. From a satchel secured to his saddle, he retrieved something that resembled a slender screwdriver. He inserted it into a concealed panel along his forearm. With practiced precision, he twisted until a soft click indicated the system had shut down.

A gentle hiss escaped as the arm disengaged, the glyphs dimming to darkness. The limb dropped to his side, utterly inert. "Rebooting in three... two... one..." Alexander murmured. He reversed the tool's motion, reestablishing the connections between the prosthetic and his nervous system, as well as the mana conduits.

A sudden bolt of pain lanced through him as the arm surged back to life, nerves tingling with sharp pain. "Son of a BITCH!" Alexander screamed, doubling over as he sat astride his steed. The horse snorted but maintained its steady pace.

Gradually, the discomfort faded away. Alexander flexed his mechanical fingers, watching as the metal plates shifted in response to his movements. Satisfied, he clenched and unclenched his fist a few times before returning his grip to the reins.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

So absorbed was he in resolving the issue at hand—quite literally—that he failed to notice the colossal wall emerging on the horizon ahead.

"We're arriving," the rabbit remarked.

Alexander glanced up, surprise briefly flickering across his face. "So we are," he acknowledged.

"Are you certain about what you're doing?" the rabbit pressed.

"Only the gods know," Alexander replied with a smile. "But he's the one who seems the best lead."

"What do you mean?" the rabbit inquired, tilting its head.

"Anyone who isn't on the map and isn't easy to find likely doesn't want allies," Alexander explained. "Most of those sorts won't last long out here. It's no wonder he's drawing more and more people in."

The rabbit considered this, nodding. "That makes sense."

"Among those who've drawn attention, there's the girl from the south," Alexander mentioned aloud. "She cares only for power and is using the newspaper to strengthen her influence. She's dangerous and would see someone like me more as a rival or even an enemy."

The rabbit tilted its head, its whiskers quivering. "I'm not sure I agree," it responded thoughtfully. "But let's say you're right. Why him, then?" The guardian's voice was insistent. "Isn't he just another common criminal?"

Alexander let out a low chuckle, a hint of irony in his eyes. "Perhaps a criminal, but not any. The townspeople speak highly of him, and those who might've spoken ill no longer draw breath."

"You're out of your mind," the rabbit retorted. "He could be more dangerous than the girl from the south."

"Yes, no doubt," Alexander conceded, a sly smile playing on his lips. "But at least he doesn't hide his intentions up his sleeve."

With each passing moment, they drew closer to the imposing southern gate of Hafenstadt. The city's spires and rooftops became more distinct. Merchants and travelers bustled near the entrance..

"Besides," Alexander continued, "we know that everyone else is scrambling to make weapons. He started with something much simpler—beer. That put him ahead of the others financially and improved the city's standing."

"But how will that help when the Rotting begins?" the rabbit questioned, its eyes narrowing. "Beer doesn't feed the hungry, nor does it offer any defense to the city."

"There is still time," Alexander replied, his gaze distant. "If he uses his position to gather more resources, perhaps they can withstand what's coming. And, of course, I'm here."

The rabbit sighed, a sound like the rustling of leaves. "That is, if he doesn't decide to kill you first."

Alexander's expression remained unfazed. "That's always a possibility. But if we're to survive, it won't be by allying ourselves with just anyone."

As Alexander conversed with his guardian, a sudden flash caught his eye. In the distance, atop the towering walls of Hafenstadt, a cannon belched fire and smoke. But instead of aiming outward, the cannonball arced inward, hurtling toward the city.

"What was that?" the rabbit exclaimed.

"A bad sign," Alexander muttered grimly. Without another word, he spurred his horse forward, urging it into a gallop toward the city's southern gate.

As they approached the gates of Hafenstadt, Alexander noted the guards stationed there. Wearing plate armor, their halberds held with practiced ease, they seemed oddly unperturbed despite the cannon fire. Their faces bore the stoic expressions of men used to chaos.

Pulling his horse to a brisk trot, Alexander slowed beside the soldiers. "Pardon me," he called out, his tone respectful yet urgent. "Could you direct me to the Golden Fiddle?"

One of the soldiers glanced at him, then gestured toward the city skyline where a thin plume of gray smoke curled into the sky. "Quite easy, just follow the smoke," he replied nonchalantly.

A crease formed between Alexander's brows. "Are they in danger?" he asked, a note of concern threading through his voice.

The guard chuckled lightly. "If this were some time ago, maybe," he said, casting a sidelong glance at his companion. "But ever since that bard showed up, those folks have turned into monsters."

"What happened?" Alexander pressed, unease growing within him.

"Some local gangs thought they'd take a chance. Because the bard is away," the soldier explained, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Figured he was the biggest threat. But turns out, his crew is way more insane than he is."

The other guard shook his head, his eyes reflecting a mixture of amusement and respect. "You're laughing because you haven't seen them in action," he reflected. "It's brutal. They've been tearing through the gangs like a hot knife through butter."

"It's a blood bath," the first guard affirmed.

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