Miss Witch Doesn't Want to Become a Songstress-Chapter 203

A mech, but not just any mech. The blazing orange core at its chest radiated an overwhelming heat, washing over the cold night sky like a red-hot iron plunged into snow, evaporating the frozen world.

Though it shared the name "mech," this machine was fundamentally different from the stone-like steel constructs on the ground. The atomic furnace burning in its chest alone was enough to illuminate the entire night sky. If it were to explode, it could easily obliterate this ruined city, for it was essentially a functioning nuclear fusion reactor.

A true Sequence 7 mech could traverse the void of space. Its robust frame could withstand the shockwaves of a nuclear explosion. As long as the detonation wasn’t too close, its sturdy armor could endure the external impacts and damage.

The high-tier runes etched into its body granted the mech abilities akin to transcendent’s, amplifying the pilot’s capabilities exponentially, as if it were an extension of their own body. Utilizing a direct neural interface, the mech responded to the pilot’s thoughts as naturally as moving their own limbs. Its atomic furnace also enhanced the efficiency of magical energy, resulting in an exponential increase in combat power.

Such a formidable war machine naturally placed extremely high demands on its pilot. Sequence 7 mechs were no longer mere machines; they could almost be considered living entities. Only transcendents whose abilities matched the mech’s runes and engravings could pilot them. The pilot’s consciousness and spirit had to be exceptionally resilient to withstand the immense neural network and amplification systems. Additionally, the pilot’s body had to endure the extreme forces generated by the mech’s hypersonic speeds and rapid maneuvers in space. Otherwise, the acceleration alone could crush the pilot into a pulp.

A fully tuned mech paired with a compatible pilot became a harbinger of death on the battlefield, a nightmare for space carriers, a target too elusive for battleships to lock onto, a reaper walking the edge of danger, an object of both awe and terror.

However, the crimson mech before them was not a Sequence 7 mech as commonly understood. It was only a Sequence 6 mech, and an incomplete one at that. Even though it was equipped with an atomic furnace, most of its energy and design space were consumed just to prevent the furnace from melting its own frame and protecting the pilot inside.

“Ultimately, it’s an outdated and flawed design.”

This was the response the pilot’s descendant received when they presented the design, refined over two generations, to the Federation’s military-industrial department.

Seven years after that pilot arrived on Verdant Veil, the war took a dramatic turn. The new model of Sigh Dragon-class battleships began to play an increasingly significant role in combating the enemy. Their powerful main cannons could pierce through the hulls of over 95% of contemporary starships. Without the cover of large starships, scattered mechs were like fish in a pond, ultimately doomed to be surrounded and annihilated.

The civil war saw a glimmer of hope with the deployment of these new battleships, and the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region received unprecedented attention. Countless military-industrial conglomerates moved in, expanding production lines to churn out new warships that were sent to the front lines.

By the time the enemy managed to replicate starships of similar power, the tide of the era had already turned. The internally fragmented conservative faction couldn’t quickly consolidate resources or overcome personal biases and interests to mass-produce the new-model battleships. This led to a gradual collapse of the war effort, and more conservative forces began to waver, contemplating the possibility of defeat.

In the 51st year of the civil war, this conflict that had spanned generations finally came to an end. The remaining conservative star regions surrendered, and the mega-corporations that had sided with them were stripped of their patents, their assets confiscated, and their entities dismantled into smaller, dispersed enterprises, slowly fading into history.

With the war over, the historical mission of the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region also came to an end. The densely concentrated military-industrial conglomerates were reassigned by the Federation’s Central Council to other star regions to balance distribution. The unchecked, large-scale industrial production during the war had severely damaged the planet’s climate, leaving it in an irreversible state.

History doesn’t always conclude with the touching and perfect endings of legend.

Though the pilot arrived on this planet with grand ambitions, he was merely a soldier—a semi-retired one at that—with insufficient funds for experimentation and development. His progress and ideas lagged far behind the top military-industrial laboratories of the time. Those mega-corporations within the military-industrial complex gathered the brightest minds from across the star regions, with countless members contributing ideas and improvements, all backed by the Federation’s vast military database.

Despite his rich experience, countless near-death encounters, and indomitable will, he was still swept away by the tides of that grand era.

The new models of the ’Burning Iron’ series were delayed indefinitely, and his funds dwindled. As peace settled in, the Federation began to reduce its military numbers. Seizing this opportunity, the pilot recruited many of his former comrades into his company, transitioning to civilian work to secure the funds needed to continue.

They carried the discipline and efficiency of soldiers, and soon the company became one of the most renowned in the North Star District during the post-war era.

"To commemorate the long and brutal war, and to never forget our original aspiration, we shall name it ’Burning Iron,’" the middle-aged Saren declared from the podium, unveiling the massive emblem behind him. The gray iron burned endlessly, melting ordinary iron and stone to forge true, unyielding steel.

"One day, our ’Burning Iron Mechs’ will soar into the sky once more, proving that all our efforts and sacrifices were not in vain. And it will ultimately triumph."

This moment was captured in an old, weathered photograph, enduring through the ages as generations passed and the dream grew ever more distant.

"But today, we have finally done it."

The crimson mech surged toward the apex of the night sky, the aged voice within the cockpit murmuring.

Since taking over the family business in his youth and learning of its history and his ancestor’s past, he had vowed to restart the mech buried underground and take it to the skies.

Time had taken his robust body and his once-ambitious spirit, leaving only an aged, frail shell. Now, within the violently rumbling mech, he felt like a flickering candle on the verge of extinguishing.

Perhaps he had long known that the sky was out of reach. Four hundred years had not made them stronger; instead, they had grown weaker, watching as former comrades fell one by one.

The origins of Black Hammer Heavy Industries were strikingly similar to those of Burning Iron Energy. Their founder had also been a veteran of the fifty-year war, sharing dreams of the future with Burning Iron’s founder, collaborating and enduring many difficult years together. If not for the pressures of the era and environment, they might have been brotherly industrial groups, complementing and supporting each other.

Yet, even knowing they could never return to that sky, to that era of prosperity, he refused to quietly wither away in the underground ruins.

"Life should be like a bird, soaring to the mountaintops, flying toward that vast sky—so natural, so unyielding."

The surging orange flames, like wings, lifted the heavy steel body, propelling it toward the icy full moon in the sky. The mech’s jagged edges, marked by scars and imprints, told the story of a centuries-long, unfinished dream.