Collapse Iron: What does it mean to broaden the fate of four people in one sentence?

Alisa looked in one direction and saw a figure holding a huge gold cup disappear into the alleyway.

After a long while, Alisa sighed.

Then, with a single gesture, a flaming spear appeared out of thin air in her hand.

The gun was long and slender, entirely crimson, with a flame burning at its tip. The flame reflected on Alisa's face, making her look as if she were jumping for joy.

Cocolia helped Bronya up and looked at the figure she knew so well, somewhat incredulously.

"Alisa Rand? The first Great Guardian?"

Bronya felt something suddenly appear on the back of her hand.

She looked down and saw a strange, crimson pattern on the back of her hand.

The pattern is small but clear, with three intersecting arcs and a sword shape in the middle.

Alisa looked at Bronya and nodded to her.

"Bronya, use a Command Spell to replenish my energy."

Bronya was stunned.

Command Seals?

She didn't know what Command Seals were, but looking at the pattern on the back of her hand and Alisa's calm gaze, she nodded without hesitation.

The moment she nodded, a third of the pattern on the back of her hand disappeared, as if an invisible eraser had wiped off a stroke. The remaining part dimmed slightly, but remained clear.

Alisa's body trembled slightly.

She raised the flaming spear in her hand, its tip pointing to the sky. The flames danced on the spearhead like a beating heart.

"In the name of the Great Protector of Beloborg!"

"Get up, Creation Engine!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the whole world seemed to tremble three times.

It was not an illusion, not a hallucination; it was a real, tangible vibration.

The ground trembled, gravel bounced, dust fell from the dome of Fort Kripper, cracks in the square widened, and even the black fleet in the sky swayed.

Then, on the snowfield outside Beloborg, one tall figure after another slowly rose.

Emerging from beneath the snowfield, rising from the distant rift, it was like a giant who had slept for seven hundred years finally opening its eyes after hearing a summons.

One unit, two units, three units, ten units...

The creation engines rose up from many directions, slowly approaching Belloberg.

Bronya stared at the tall figures surrounding Belloberg, speechless.

Cocolia supported her as they looked at the creation engines, tears streaming down her face again.

This time it wasn't sadness, it was shock, the kind of shock that comes from seeing a miracle happen right before your eyes.

"Ancestor..."

Bronya's voice was very soft, as if she were afraid of disturbing something.

Alisa did not turn back.

She stood there, holding the Flame Spear, looking up at the creation engines, a slight smile playing on her lips.

That smile seemed to say, "Long time no see."

"Seven hundred years ago, Beloborg had one hundred creation engines."

"Later, the Antimatter Legion destroyed most of them. The rest were hidden in various corners of Beloborg by the successive Grand Guardians."

Alisa turned around and looked at the mother and daughter.

“Bronya, Cocolia, countless visitors from beyond the heavens have arrived, just to help us through this difficult time.”

"Belloberg cannot let their good intentions go to waste; it's time to launch a counterattack!"

Chapter 80 Wah and Natasha

In the lower levels, the groans of the wounded and the shortage of medicine made the air heavy.

Natasha moved so fast that it was almost impossible to see.

She stitched up a wound, bandaged a severed arm, forced down a bottle of medicine, and then turned to treat the next wounded person.

Her hands were trembling, but her needlework was steady.

Her forehead was covered in sweat, which dripped down her cheeks and onto the back of the wounded man's hand. The man opened his eyes, glanced at her, and then closed them again.

There were too many wounded people, carried out of the mine shafts, carried back from the residential areas, and escaped from Rivet Town. One after another, it seemed like there would never be enough to deal with them all.

Fortunately, there were plenty of trash cans helping her.

Those tin-clad fellows were moving about, some handing out bandages, some carrying medicine, and some squatting beside the wounded, clumsily pressing down on the gauze to stop the bleeding with their tin hands.

The king's bucket is not there; it is fighting in the upper area.

But its minions were all there; a trash can, with a roll of bandage clipped to its lid, wobbled towards Natasha. The bandage had come loose.

It picked it up with its tin hand, dropped it, picked it up again, and so on, several times, until finally it handed the bandage to Natasha.

In the distance, Luca and Seele were rushing over, carrying one wounded soldier after another.

Luca's robotic arm had stopped smoking completely, probably burned out, but he was still running, supporting the wounded on his back with his intact arm, sweat mixed with blood streaming down his face.

Seele sheathed her scythe behind her back, supporting a wounded soldier with each hand. Her steps were quick and steady, her face expressionless, but her lips were tightly pursed.

There was another figure that Natasha knew very well, who was also doing his best to treat the wounded.

He squatted down next to a miner who had just been brought in, his hands trembling, but his pulse was accurately located.

He took out the last few pills from his pocket, put them in the man's mouth, then helped him lie down and covered his wound with a clean cloth.

The movements were slow, but each step was performed with great care.

"Natasha, we're running low on medicine and supplies!"

He stood up, swayed for a moment, and then grabbed a pillar next to him to steady himself.

Natasha paused for a moment.

She looked at her brother, who seemed about to collapse at any moment but was still doing his best to treat the wounded, and her throat felt like it was blocked by something.

She couldn't speak.

If only she could be faster, if only there were more supplies, if only she could be stronger...

The instant this thought crossed her mind, she felt a refreshing energy appear around her.

A warm power flowed through her entire body, over her arms, her fingertips, and over the wounds she had touched.

Then, this energy spread everywhere, like a spring breeze, gently brushing over every corner of the treatment center and landing on every wounded person.

The wound has visibly healed.

The bleeding from those wounds that were still bleeding has stopped.

The pain in those wounds that were still aching disappeared.

Those who were already unconscious twitched their eyelids and slowly opened their eyes.

Exclamations of surprise rose and fell. Some touched their completely healed arms, some sat up from the stretcher, and some knelt on the ground, looking up at the sky and muttering something.

Natasha stared in disbelief at the scene.

Wach looked at Natasha with some surprise.

He recalled a description he had once seen in an ancient book.

That power, that healing power that springs from the depths of life.

It's not medicine, it's not magic, it's destiny.

He smiled, a very soft but genuine smile.

Indeed, his sister was far more talented than him.

She is also more suited to be a doctor than him.

He silently rose, and while everyone was still in astonishment, and while his sister was still looking down at her hands, he quietly walked out of the sports hall.

His steps were slow but steady, one step at a time, as if he had been walking for a very long time, until he finally reached a place where he had to make a decision.

Natasha watched his retreating figure.

That stiff, trembling figure, as if it would collapse at any moment.

She hesitated for a moment, but still followed.

==========

Wahe walked toward the rift outside the town of Panyan.

Holding a self-destructing automaton in his arms, he walked slowly because his body couldn't hold on much longer, but he didn't stop.

The Great Guardian Cocolia gave him a chance to return to the Lower District and see his sister again.

The sins of the past still haunted his heart. He remembered the faces of the ordinary people he had deceived, the ordinary people he had experimented with drugs on, and the people who lost their health or even their lives because of his research. He engraved the names of each person in his heart.

He thought that returning to the lower district and seeing his sister would lessen his guilt.

But when he saw his sister treating the wounded in the ruins, and saw the undying light in her eyes, he knew he was wrong.

The guilt will not lessen, it will only deepen.

Now, these monsters that appeared out of nowhere are destroying their homeland.

He had also been listening to Lady Bronya's speech that morning: "The world belongs to all, all people are equal, long live the people."

Every word was like a hammer, striking his heart.

Berloberg had finally found a great protector who could lead everyone out of the snowstorm, and he wanted to do something for their homeland.

Miss Hiluva has already given the data on immunity to wind and snow to his sister. The only thing he can be proud of in his life has been handed over to someone more suitable than himself.

It's time for him to atone for his sins.

Dragging this crippled body, killing one monster is enough to break even, killing two monsters is a huge profit.

He patted the self-destructing automated machine in his arms, looked at the wandering Rift monsters, and walked towards them with a determined gaze.

But a hand grabbed his arm.

Wach paused in his steps.

He knew that hand all too well.

He had recognized this hand since he was little; it was small and soft, and it would always tug at his clothes and say, "Brother, where are you going?"

Later, this hand grew bigger, becoming long and strong, able to hold a scalpel, suture wounds, and lift up dying lives.

But no matter how old he gets, he can always recognize that hand.

He turned around.

Natasha stood behind him, looking at him with a complex mix of emotions.

There was heartache, reluctance, blame, and something else in that gaze that he couldn't understand.

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but her lips trembled and no sound came out.

Wach laughed.

He reached out and gently touched his sister's head, just like when she was little.

Natasha's hair was still so soft, and it felt exactly the same as he remembered.

He broke free from his sister's hand.

The movements were light, yet firm.

Just like before, when he ignored his sister's advice and deceived ordinary people to experiment with drugs.

With a determined look in his eyes, he held the self-destructing automated machine soldier and walked towards the rift monsters.

His figure grew smaller and smaller in the smoke of battle, but his steps never stopped.