CHAPTER 611: THE FORTRESS IN RED

"WHAT?!"

As expected, it was Master Quinn.

The old mechanic’s voice cracked so loudly that several people jumped. His hand flew to his chest, as though steadying his heart, and he wobbled like he might collapse at any second.

The concept of using beast materials to harness characteristics was not new. It had been the dream of every craftsman for centuries. But dreams were one thing. Reality was another.

Yes, people could forge plating from beast scales. Yes, sometimes beast blood was used to temper alloys. But to claim they could draw out and weaponize actual abilities from beast cores?

That was unheard of. Impossible. Heretical.

For a terrifying moment, Quinn thought he would actually pass away right there, foaming at the mouth from sheer disbelief. But then the holoprojection flickered to life, and D-29 began to play the simulation.

The Master straightened instantly, gripping the table as if to tether himself to existence. His face drained of color, but his eyes blazed with desperate fire.

He swore—if the grim reaper himself came knocking, he would slam the door and cling to life.

He had to see this.

The projection bloomed in front of them. Jax’s biomecha appeared in glowing light, a crimson giant with twin shields gleaming like titanic slabs of war.

"Anchor Mode," Luca’s calm voice narrated.

The mecha planted both shields into the ground. At once, energy rippled through the terrain. The ground itself seemed to tighten and harden around the biomecha’s feet. An incoming barrage slammed into it—explosions, debris, fire. Yet the juggernaut did not budge. Not an inch.

It looked as though the ground itself had chosen to hold Jax in place.

Gasps rippled across the room.

"It’s rooted?!" Gisella muttered. "He didn’t even slide back under impact!"

"Seems impossible, no?. Even siege cannons cause recoil. I had the same thought when I first saw it, responded Cece, who had been similarly surprised before."

But the holographic mecha stood tall, shields like anchors, unshaken.

"Piercer Mode."

The holoprojection shifted. The shields’ edges began to hum, vibrating at a frequency so high the air itself seemed to blur.

The biomecha lunged.

One shield stabbed forward, driving straight into an enemy mecha’s chest. The armor shredded like paper. The projection zoomed in—everyone saw it. The shields were drilling through, vibrating like the jaws of a beast burrowing through stone.

The enemy mecha collapsed, core pierced clean through.

The hangar went silent.

Then someone whispered, "That’s not a shield. That’s... that’s a weaponized mining rig."

"No, Pop. That’s a battering ram!" screeched Ollie.

But then they couldn’t continue the speculation because—

"Epicenter."

The biomecha slammed both shields into the ground. Energy surged. The terrain rippled outward in a circular shock, like a stone tossed into a lake.

Only, instead of water, it was the ground.

The ground buckled, shook, and threw enemy mechas off balance. The lighter ones tumbled like toys, while smaller simulated beasts sprang off the ground. Even the heavier ones staggered, footing shattered.

The onlookers clutched their chairs as if the tremor was happening in the hangar itself.

"Sweet Solaris..." one elder wheezed. "That’s... that’s battlefield control. With a shield."

Quinn slapped his thigh, wheezing like a dying bellows. "Who would’ve thought? Who would’ve thought that after surprising himself in the last few months, there could even be more things to discover?! An actual quake with the mecha shields as the epicenter! By all that’s holy, it’s... It’s genius!"

"Directional Shockwave."

The biomecha raised both shields and clashed them together. A pulse of force blasted outward like a giant’s roar, the shockwave scattering enemy lines. Simulated mechas skidded back, their neat formations shattered into chaos.

Spectators ducked instinctively, shielding themselves from the phantom blast even though it was only a projection. Even Duchess Amelia winced as if remembering what the Deathworms could do.

"That could turn an entire advance into a rout," muttered Killian, his voice strained. "While it might not outright decapitate anyone, whoever sees that first would likely panic."

"As for the last one, it’s not really from the beast core, but more from the nanite ore coating the shield." Luca pointed out.

"Nanite-Enhanced Fortification."

The simulation slowed to show cracks forming along the shield surface. Battle damage. Gouges. Blows.

And then...

The cracks began to close.

Not instantly, but steadily, stubbornly, as though the shields themselves refused to remain broken.

The nanite ore—minute metallic particles fused into the structure—shifted like invisible swarms inside the keratin and arachnid exoskeleton. Under strain, they redistributed themselves, packing into fractures and bonding the materials tighter than before.

The surface reformed, not with a flashy glow, but with the quiet inevitability of reinforced steel mending under its own will. Slowly, the shields knitted themselves back together, layer by layer, until the battle scars all but disappeared.

The shields stood whole again.

The hangar was dead silent.

It was really one thing not to see nicks and scratches. But for a tank like this, wasn’t this essentially a way to bypass durability?

The simulation ended.

The crimson juggernaut stood proud, unshaken, indestructible.

Jax’s mouth hung open. Cece looked around in pride. Luca smiled sheepishly, like he’d just presented an awkward school project instead of a walking fortress.

Master Quinn swayed on his feet, pale as parchment, yet grinning like a lunatic. "I’m alive," he croaked hoarsely. "I’m still alive... I got to see it..."

And then, with a voice that trembled between awe and despair, he whispered:

"But for how long? When this was just the first of many?"

And sure enough, it was.

Because the crowd hadn’t even recovered from the simulation when Luca, completely serious, started speaking again.

"I still hope to make a few more things," he said calmly, tapping his chin. "I also want to see how the abilities might change depending on the weapons we design for them."

"..."

It was the way he said it. So casual. So academic. Like he was presenting a thesis for extra credit. Meanwhile, everyone else was staring at him like he had just announced plans to build a second moon.

Even Cece had a look of surprise mixed with awe. Her gaze was the same one she had given when she first heard Luca casually propose turning corrosive sludge into feather-blades. A look that said: You sweet, terrifying boy, what universe are you even from?

The silence stretched. Jaws hung open. No one dared to breathe too loudly.

Then, finally, mercifully, Jax broke it.

His red ears perked, his whole face glowing like a sunrise. "Luca! My man! Can I try it now? Can I?!"

The innocent enthusiasm of one giant cracked through the tension like a hammer through glass.

Luca blinked, then smiled and nodded. "Of course."

That was all the invitation Jax needed. He practically bolted up the platform and dove into the cockpit like an overeager child being reunited with his favorite toy.

But just as everyone braced for the roar of engines, the cockpit suddenly hissed open again.

"LUCA!!!"

The redhead’s voice thundered across the hangar, startling half the onlookers so badly they nearly fell over their chairs.

"You—you even kept the modified cockpit!" he yelled, waving both arms like a shipwreck survivor spotting land. "There’s a blanket! And an emergency compartment! Thank you!"

The onlookers froze.

A blanket? An emergency compartment? That was what got him this excited?

Jax waved again, grinning ear to ear, oblivious to the bewildered silence that followed. "I promise I’ll pay you back! I won’t even sleep in here as much! I swear!"

"..."

The room nearly collapsed.

Half of them were pale from the simulation. The other half were struggling to process the fact that this muscle-headed juggernaut of a man had just loudly promised not to nap inside a biomecha like it was some sort of solemn oath.

Luca, however, only beamed as if he had just been given the highest form of praise.

And that contrast—the golden-eyed genius standing proudly while his guildmate yelled about blankets—was so absurd that even Master Quinn looked like he might faint for a completely different reason this time.

Oh, but maybe he should suspend that thought because Luca had plans of handing out the other complete mechas.