Ferrous Wroughtnaut How To Damage Novels & Stories

He didn't have a wolf-face or star-eyes; his surface was completely covered in thousands of hand-filed steel teeth that had been used for half a century to turn the main press-bed before the first locomotive was forged. The Axle-Tree did not stop the metal column. Instead it drove its teeth into the blades of the cutter. The result was like an explosion. The wooden mountain shattered into a thousand pieces and the copper cables tore through the basin like a cannon shot. One of the cables wrapped around Elara's neck and its tip drove into the silver-leaf matrix behind her ear. The lard-grease curdled and her shoulders were locked to the drainage-rail.

"This is Tier 3 aberrant venom. It's corrosive and persistent. If you don't treat it, it'll eat through the armor from the inside. That plate will be useless in three days." With a flash of light, a toolbox materialized in her hands. She pulled out a wrench and an unmarked spray can, working on the damaged spot with practiced precision. HISS— White smoke rose. The bubbling green pit dried up, turned brittle—and with a few sharp taps of her wrench, the metal regained its original luster. [Notice: Vehicle defense restored to 100%.] Jake stared at the system notification, genuinely impressed. She was leagues ahead of those "mechanics" who could barely change a tire.

His hands shook with a violent tremor from hours of holding the machine level against the train's relentless momentum, but his eyes were bright, fixed entirely on the iron carriage. ​"The carriage is shifting when the margin-stops hit the guide rail," Yusuf whispered, his voice a gravelly rasp as he leaned over the iron casing. He wiped a new layer of red clay dust from the spacebar, revealing the hairline fracture we had sustained during the drop from the agricultural train. "The alignment is dropping by two millimeters on the left margin, Chiamaka. If we have to strike the next set of plates, the hammers will begin to override each other's slots."

It was a heavy, unpolished slab of scrap metal. I infused the metal with my remaining gravity magic. I made it weigh ten tons. My shoulder joints popped—a sharp, wet sound of bone shifting in the socket. "Catch," I grunted. I threw it. The hammer whistled through the air. The friction created a high-pitched, electronic shriek. It hit Nergal squarely in the sternum.

"But since you asked: two. We're even." The iron grate over the right ventilation shaft had rusted to a wafer-thin sheet. Luna pried the rivets loose with her scalpel. Rust crumbs fell onto the back of her hand, cold as the ice water that had drenched her knuckles every dawn in the laundry.

He swung his axe with vigour at Iron Palm's feet, gaining velocity. Clatter! "Pftt!" All of a sudden, the arena was filled with a muffled noise and the sound of something breaking. Iron Palm, whose feet were struck, immediately trembled in front of everyone's eyes. The bronze covering on his body then began to shake swiftly, and then— Crack! It split into innumerable pieces and dropped to the floor, much like an egg. Iron Palm's Bronze Totem skill became so concentrated at some point that it solidified. Yet it was broken even then.

"Félix! If we don't stabilize the metal, the ship is going to become a permanent part of the Core!" Félix didn't use a kinetic blast. He used the Wild-Anchor. He dove into the river of liquid iron, his emerald aura turning a white-hot green. He didn't fight the metal; he Commanded it. Using the "Iron-Wolf" resonance he had learned from Arthur, Félix began to shape the molten metal. He turned the flood into a series of reinforced ribs, using his own kinetic heat to "Flash-Freeze" the iron into a new, indestructible alloy.

I said, shifti​ng my submachine⁠ gun to my front, checking the re⁠d-d‌ot⁠ sig​ht. Damien didn​'t count down. He k⁠icked the ir⁠on gr‍ate outwa‌rd wit‍h an explos⁠ive,‌ dual-bo‌ot strike.​ The heavy metal pane‌l⁠ tore f‍ree fr‌om its housin​g, hurtl‍ing into the bri‌gh‌t, o‍pulent‌ interi‌o​r of t⁠he chale​t wit⁠h a loud crash.

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 The second strike of the diesel hammer came down with an earth-shattering detonation that left Lucian’s ears ringing with a sharp, high-pitched hum. The massive shockwave tore through his shoulders, vibrating down his spine with a violent intensity that threatened to dislodge his foot from the wet rock. Yet, despite the agonizing force of the impact, the three-foot rod of galvanized steel was finally driven completely home and locked permanently into the ancient mountain granite.