Chapter 1029: The Iron Maiden

The most perilous and intense battle in human history had finally come to an end. Yet, for the war itself, the aftermath was proving to be a long, delicate process requiring utmost caution.

Inside the frontline command post at Winterwolf Fortress, High King Gawain sat at a long table with Philip, Mariland, Solderin, and Amber. The magical network terminal on the table flickered softly, projecting a topographical map of the entire Winterwolf region into the air above. Numerous holograms displayed the status of various units across the area, alongside live feeds from the city of Cecil.

“In the past few hours, three of our units have narrowly avoided clashes with the Typhon forces,” Philip reported. “Though no direct conflict has occurred yet, communication between some frontline soldiers and the rear is still spotty. The Typhon legions have also been partially scattered, with many small detachments lost or out of control. I recommend pulling back the troops who have advanced into the eastern strip of the plains to the central area.”

“The Typhon’s Paladin and Mage Corps are already beginning to regroup,” he continued. “Several regions are being sealed off, so our search teams no longer need to operate within the Winterwolf control zone.”

Amber sighed beside them. “After facing the God of War, I almost convinced myself the war was over… I nearly forgot this is still our battlefield against the Typhon.”

“You’re not alone in that illusion,” Mariland said with a wry smile, spreading his hands. “After all… that was the God of War. We just fought a direct battle with a god. I’m sure the Typhon side is even more chaotic than we are. Hopefully, they can restore their command system soon. Right now, there are too many scattered units on the field—each one a ticking magical crystal bomb.”

Mariland’s words captured the complex reality both sides faced: the fighting had ceased, but the war’s embers were far from extinguished. Although the high command on both sides understood the situation and had agreed to a temporary ceasefire, the chaotic post-battle conditions meant orders took time to reach scattered units. During this liminal period, countless isolated detachments lingered in the scorched earth, awaiting instructions. Search teams from both sides scoured the shattered frontlines, seeking lost units and salvageable resources. In many ways, this tense aftermath was even more nerve-wracking than the battle itself.

Philip’s voice broke the silence. “Has there been any response from Winterwolf?”

“We’ve established a temporary communication line with the Typhon,” Solderin stood and reported. “The ‘War Citizen’—currently stationed at the edge of the combat zone—is acting as a makeshift magical network hub. Some functioning Iron Ambassadors have entered Typhon-controlled territory as messengers. We can finally exchange messages with Winterwolf. The Typhon side is willing to withdraw some troops to their garrisons and designate a buffer zone along the overlapping combat areas, allowing only medical and search-and-rescue units to enter. However, they want us to pull back first—at least the 1st and 2nd Mechanical Regiments.”

Amber immediately muttered, “Why do we have to pull back first?”

“Because our two tank regiments have already reached the foot camps of the Typhon—they drove right in,” Mariland said, his face a little embarrassed. “The final phase was chaotic… luckily, no fighting broke out.”

Amber: “…Oh.”

“We can withdraw from the Winterwolf fortress perimeter—that’s a reasonable request,” Gawain said, breaking the awkwardness. “Ground forces will contract, but we’ll keep several long-range artillery positions in the central plains. Rosetta may be a trustworthy monarch, but this battlefield is still too unstable. We need to maintain cover for the rescue teams entering the zone.”

“Understood. I’ll make the arrangements,” Philip nodded, then asked, “What about the units entering the buffer zone?”

“Medical and search-and-rescue teams,” Gawain considered briefly. “Send in the Iron Sanctum and Scarlet Light regiments. They have more experience handling battlefield rescue missions.”

The choice made sense, but Mariland looked uneasy. He thought of the priests and nuns who favored the ‘Holy Warhammer-II’ heavy tanks and the large flamethrowers used for clearing the battlefield. Hesitantly, he said, “Your Majesty, could these two regiments cause misunderstandings? Their style…”

“They’re the best fit—and honestly, aren’t all our priests like that?” Gawain was already used to this and had long lost interest in complaining. “Coordinate closely with Winterwolf and send them the Scarlet Light’s standard insignia. That’ll help their frontline troops identify them. Make it clear—even though they operate tanks, heavy artillery, warhammers, and flamethrowers, they are indeed medical units.”

Mariland nodded seriously. “Understood.”

With the details of the aftermath carefully discussed and orders issued one by one, the border war zone remained chaotic, but basic order was gradually restored. Both Cecil and Typhon’s leaders knew exactly what needed to be done. Combat units cautiously withdrew from sensitive areas, communications were reestablished, and many lost units were either found or began returning to their nearest command posts. Though many low-ranking soldiers still didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, at least everyone understood one thing clearly: they had survived today—and that life was precious.

After the temporary meeting ended, Gawain left the bustling command hall. After informing the others of his destination, he brought Amber to a quiet courtyard within the castle—a rare peaceful spot amid the tense, busy Winterwolf Fortress.

Several fully armed magitek infantry guarded the area. A young woman with black hair and a black dress stood quietly in the open space. She seemed to have been waiting a long time, yet showed no impatience when Gawain arrived.

Gawain approached her. “Lady Diana, sorry to keep you waiting. The meeting ran longer than I expected.”

“You needn’t apologize,” the black-haired Typhon attendant bowed slightly. “I can imagine how chaotic things must be after the battle. If it helps keep those who barely survived safer, I don’t mind waiting.”

Gawain studied her carefully. There was something familiar yet unique about this ‘Diana’—a certain aura he couldn’t quite place. He said casually, “Obviously, you’re no ordinary attendant. Ordinary attendants don’t have insights like yours.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Diana replied meticulously, then glanced toward Winterwolf. “My mission is complete. May I leave now?”

“Of course,” Gawain nodded. “You’re not our prisoner. The gates here are always open. Please send my regards to your master, and tell him I look forward to speaking with him in a more formal setting.”

“I will,” Diana stepped back, then bowed flawlessly, lifting the sides of her skirt. “Then, I shall take my leave…”

As she spoke, her figure began to fade into the air. Gawain prepared to watch her depart, but suddenly a gentle female voice called out from a nearby corridor, interrupting her: “Wait—turn around.”

Gawain looked toward the voice in surprise. Veronica, holding her platinum scepter, stood at the edge of the courtyard corridor. Diana, who had just begun to leave, instantly dispelled her shadow magic. For the first time, a clear look of shock and disbelief crossed her usually impassive face as she stared at the ‘Saint Princess’ standing below.

Veronica strode forward, her expression unusually serious. Gawain was taken aback. “Is something wrong?”

“Who is she?” Veronica asked, eyeing the black-haired attendant who seemed frozen in place. Her tone remained gentle but carried unmistakable gravity.

Amber quickly explained, “Her name is Diana. She came from Winterwolf—you should have received the message. She’s a ‘messenger’ sent by Rosetta Augustus.”

“Diana… a messenger from Typhon?” Veronica muttered oddly, then scrutinized Diana again. Suddenly, she spoke rapidly: “Self-check, execute sequence 335, output results to language module.”

At her command, the Typhon attendant’s body stiffened noticeably. A faint buzzing and metallic grinding sound came from within her. Seconds later, a faint glow appeared deep in her eyes, and she responded quickly: “Self-check, execute sequence 335… error. Cognitive core misalignment. Original logic database has been reset…”

Another strange noise came from her body. The black-haired attendant seemed to snap out of some daze, swaying slightly as she locked eyes with Veronica. “Who are you?”

“Your cognitive core has detached from the Iron Legion network… your original logic database has been overwritten… You don’t even recognize my magical signature?” Veronica said, genuinely surprised. “Do you remember who you are?”

Diana didn’t answer but repeated, “Who are you?”

“I am the Legion Commander of the Iron Legion, Ophelia Norton,” Veronica said slowly, staring at her. “Try identifying me again. Can you recognize me now?”

Then she quickly recited a string of numbers—some kind of code.

Diana seemed deeply affected, her body visibly trembling. Whether it was real or not, Gawain felt the air around her grow slightly warmer, as if she was generating intense heat. After a moment, she steadied herself and looked into Veronica’s eyes. “Passcode… accepted… but I don’t understand… I cannot identify… my recognition functions… malfunctioned centuries ago. There are no facilities in this era capable of repairing me…”

“Malfunction… that makes sense. But how did you come to the human world?” Veronica frowned, locking eyes with Diana. “How many years have you been here?”

Gawain listened, puzzled, but now he began to piece things together—knowledge from the original owner of this body’s memories, though the conclusion was startling. “Wait, Veronica, from what I’m hearing… you’re saying Lady Diana is a member of the Iron Legion? She’s a…”

“An Iron Soldier,” Veronica interrupted before Gawain could finish. “She appears to be a later model, but her cognitive core has undergone some change and detached from the original logic database. I’ve never seen anything like this… though I’m not an expert on Iron Legion technology myself.”

Amber had been utterly baffled since earlier, even more so than Gawain, but only now did she finally grasp what was happening. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the tall, black-haired woman. “Iron Man!? You mean… the kind of ‘Iron Man’ from the Age of Gondor that Gawain mentioned to us?”

The turn of events caught not only Gawain and the others off guard, but even Diana herself—the very center of it all—seemed momentarily stunned. Yet this “Iron Soldier” quickly regained her composure—or perhaps rebooted her consciousness. She resumed her usual graceful, calm demeanor and nodded at Amber. “Apologies. The sudden change in circumstances took me by surprise. Yes, I am the ‘Iron Man’ you spoke of from the Age of Gondor—at least, that’s what my creator told me.”

“You don’t look any different from a normal human…” Amber couldn’t help but remark from the side. “When I first heard the name ‘Iron Man,’ I imagined some kind of steel-clad automaton, like the iron golems or clockwork soldiers the mages used to make… I didn’t expect you to be so… elegant.”

Diana nodded serenely. “Thank you for the compliment—though appearances hold little importance for me.”

“Oh, no problem! We’re all from the Age of Gondor, after all,” Amber said with a twinkle in her eye. Suddenly struck by an idea, she grinned and extended her hand. “Hello, I’m an artificial being from the Gondorian Empire—so I guess that makes us… ‘kin’ of sorts?”

Diana didn’t respond to the offered hand. Instead, she looked at the petite half-elf with a tilted head, her face openly puzzled.

Then she shifted her gaze to Veronica. “Your command phrase is correct. I can temporarily log you in as Ophelia Norton, but I have severed ties with the Iron Soldier Corps and will no longer follow your orders.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly taken aback. “Severed ties with the Iron Soldier Corps? How did you manage that?”

(End of chapter)