The Lifespan Smith: Forging My Own End

Chapter 6: The Siege of Valoria

The Northern Watch siren didn't just scream; it vibrated through the floorboards, rattling the jars of oil and iron filings on Aerovan’s workbench. The sound was a jagged edge, cutting through the heavy silence of the forge.

"They're not just raiding," Lysenne whispered, her face losing every drop of color. "That’s the 'Total Breach' signal. The Iron Duchy... they’ve actually done it. They’ve brought the golems."

Aerovan gripped the cold, black handle of his hammer, his knuckles looking like knots of bleached wood. "Golems? I thought we were fighting the Abyss."

"The Duchy of Oth has been waiting for the Abyss to soften us up," Drovic spat, stumbling back into the room with a ladle full of thin broth he immediately dropped. "Opportunistic vultures! They’ve got Null-Stone golems, Aerovan. Magic doesn't touch 'em. Kael and Veydan... they’re gonna be about as useful as silk umbrellas in a hailstorm."

Aerovan coughed, a dry, rattling sound that ended with a fleck of red on his lip. He wiped it away with the back of a trembling hand. "Then it’s a good thing I don't use magic. Lysenne, help me with the vest."

"No!" Lysenne grabbed his arm, her grip desperate. "You heard the logs! Five years for that chest piece. You have seven left. Seven, Aerovan! If you go out there and start clicking that cylinder, you won’t survive the hour!"

"If I stay here, the golems will step on this forge and turn us into floorboards," Aerovan countered, his voice raspy but steady. "Casual daily conversation doesn't change the fact that I’m the only guy in this city who builds things that actually break things. Now, the armor. Put it on me."

"Drovic, tell him he’s being a fool!" she pleaded.

The old smith looked at Aerovan, then at the shattered door where the orange glow of distant fires was beginning to lick the sky. "He’s a smith, Highness. If the world is breaking, he’s got to fix it. Even if he uses himself as the solder."

With a sob of frustration, Lysenne lifted the Aegis-Vestment. It was surprisingly light, but as it settled over Aerovan’s thin chest, the brass filigree flared with a dull, rhythmic amber light. Aerovan groaned, his spine straightening with a series of audible pops as the armor’s internal stabilization kicked in.

"Gods, that's heavy," Aerovan wheezed, grabbing the Ignis-Edge from the floor. "Alright. Where’s the front line?"

"Follow the screaming," Drovic said grimly.

*

The main thoroughfare of the East District was a nightmare of fleeing civilians and retreating soldiers. At the far end of the street, the Great Gate had been reduced to a pile of smoking rubble. Standing in the gap was a monstrosity of obsidian and brass, thirty feet tall, its eyes glowing with a sickly green light that pulsed every time it crushed a house under its massive, blocky feet.

"Form ranks!" a voice roared over the chaos. "Archers, aim for the joints! Mages, focus on the core!"

General Thalric Orven stood atop an overturned wagon, his cape torn and his face splattered with soot. He watched in horror as a blast of violet fire from Veydan Marris hit the golem’s chest and simply... vanished. The Null-Stone absorbed the mana like a sponge.

"It’s not working, General!" a soldier screamed. "The spells are just feeding it!"

"Then use the ballistae!" Thalric yelled.

"The ballistae are gone, sir! The first wave took out the ramparts!"

Aerovan stumbled into the clearing, Lysenne and Drovic flanking him. He looked like a ghost in heavy metal—white hair flying, skin like parchment, but his eyes were burning with a blue fire that shouldn't have been there.

"Hey! General!" Aerovan shouted, his voice cracking.

Thalric looked down, his eyes narrowing. "You? The 'Hero' smith? Get out of here, kid! This isn't a place for repairs!"

"I'm not here to fix your wagons, Thalric!" Aerovan yelled back, stepping toward the center of the street. "Move your men! You're just giving that overgrown paperweight target practice!"

"Aerovan, stop!" Lysenne cried, catching up to him. "Look at the golem! It’s a Mark-IV. You can’t pierce that with a hand-cranked sword!"

"I'm not using the sword," Aerovan muttered. He turned his gaze to the blue screen only he could see.

[Divine Architect Specialization: Siege Engineering Unlocked]

[Project: 'The Breaker' Anti-Mage Artillery]

[Cost: 2 Years Lifespan]

[Warning: Extreme Strain Detected. User Vitality: 7 Years.]

"Two years," Aerovan whispered. "Cheap at twice the price."

"What are you doing?" Thalric demanded, jumping off the wagon. "Is that boy crazy? He’s just standing there!"

"He’s building," Drovic said, his voice full of awe and terror. "Watch."

Aerovan slammed his hammer into the cobblestones. He didn't hit a piece of metal; he hit the ground itself.

CLANG.

A shockwave of blue light erupted from the point of impact. The stones began to shift, rising and twisting like living things. Scraps of iron from the nearby ruins, discarded shields, and broken spears flew through the air, drawn to Aerovan like steel to a magnet.

"Look at that!" a soldier shouted, pointing. "The metal is... it’s assembling itself!"

In seconds, a massive, tripod-mounted cannon took shape in front of Aerovan. It was a brutal-looking thing, all gears and heavy cooling fins, with a barrel as thick as a man’s torso. It didn't look like Valorian tech; it looked like something from a nightmare of the industrial revolution.

"Aerovan!" Lysenne screamed.

Aerovan slumped against the side of the cannon, a massive gout of blood spraying from his mouth onto the cobblestones. His hair, already white, turned a dull, lifeless gray, thinning out until his scalp was visible. He looked eighty years old, his breath coming in wet, jagged hitching sounds.

"I’m... fine," he wheezed, his hand shaking as he reached for the firing lever.

"You're not fine!" Lysenne was at his side, her hands covered in his blood. "You just killed yourself! For what? A gun?"

"It’s a statement, Lysenne," Aerovan gasped. He looked up at the giant golem, which was now lumbering toward them, sensing the massive accumulation of kinetic energy.

"General!" Aerovan barked. "Tell your men to plug their ears! This is going to be loud!"

Thalric stared at the dying boy and the impossible machine. "Do it! Everyone, down! Cover your ears!"

The golem raised a massive obsidian fist, preparing to crush the tiny humans in its path. Aerovan didn't flinch. He gripped the lever, his vision tunneling until there was nothing but the green glow of the golem’s core and the blue text of his system.

[Kinetic Overdrive: 100%]

[Fire?]

"Go to hell," Aerovan whispered.

He pulled the lever.

BOOM.

The sound wasn't a noise; it was a physical force. The windows for three blocks shattered instantly. The 'Breaker' artillery kicked back with enough force to crack the street open. A bolt of pure, white-hot kinetic force screamed through the air, leaving a trail of vacuum in its wake.

It didn't splash against the Null-Stone. It punched through it.

The golem’s chest exploded in a shower of obsidian shards and green sparks. The massive machine froze, its internal gears screaming as the energy ripple tore it apart from the inside out. Then, with a groan that sounded like a mountain collapsing, it fell backward, crushing three Duchy tanks as it crashed into the mud.

Silence fell over the street, broken only by the crackle of fires and the hissing of steam from the 'Breaker's' barrel.

"He... he did it," Thalric breathed, standing up and dusting off his armor. "One shot. He took down a Null-Stone colossus in one shot."

"Aerovan!" Lysenne’s voice was a wail.

Aerovan had fallen away from the cannon, lying flat on his back. His eyes were open, staring at the grey clouds, but they were unfocused. His skin was the color of ash.

"Don't you dare," she sobbed, pulling him into her lap. "Don't you dare leave me with this mess, you stubborn idiot."

"Five years," Aerovan croaked, a ghost of a smile on his bloody lips. "I’ve got... five left. I think."

"You have nothing left if you keep doing this!" she yelled.

"Look," Aerovan said, his trembling finger pointing toward the breach.

The dust was clearing. Beyond the fallen golem, the horizon was no longer empty. Six more golems, even larger than the first, were stepping over the rubble. But in the center of them was something different.

It was a titan, easily sixty feet tall, draped in red banners and carved with runes that seemed to bleed darkness. It didn't walk; it glided, the very ground beneath it turning to glass.

"The God-Killer," Thalric whispered, his sword dropping from his hand. "The Duchy’s ultimate weapon. It’s supposed to be a myth."

Aerovan looked at the titan, then at his shaking hands. The 'Breaker' cannon was already beginning to crumble, the temporary synthesis failing as the life-force that fueled it evaporated.

[Warning: Mythic-Grade Threat Detected]

[Current Arsenal: Insufficient]

[Requirement: Mythic-Grade Weaponry]

[Warning: Creating Mythic-Grade Weaponry will exceed current lifespan.]

"Hey, Drovic," Aerovan wheezed, his eyes tracking the God-Killer as it raised a hand, a ball of black sun forming in its palm.

"Yeah, kid?" the old smith asked, his voice breaking.

"You got any more of that broth?" Aerovan asked, a manic, terrifying light returning to his eyes. "I think I’m going to need the energy. I’ve got one more project in me, and it’s going to be a real bitch to forge."

"Aerovan, no," Lysenne whispered, but she already knew.

The Divine Architect wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking at the end of the world, and he was already calculating the cost of the hammer-swing that would stop it.

"Seven years was a long time anyway," he muttered, reaching for his hammer. "Let’s see what we can get for five minutes."