I Killed the Hero and Took His Achievements-Chapter 50: Industrial Necromancy 2.0

[Location: The Frozen Wastes - Northern Continent]

[Time: Early Morning]

[Temperature: -45°C]

The wind howled across the ice plains while carrying snow that cut like glass. But the silence was broken by the roar of engines. It was a fleet of heavy transport ships, painted in the black and gold livery of Avarice Inc. descended from the grey sky. They didn’t land gently, instead they slammed into the ice while deploying magnetic anchors.

"Deploy the Harvesters!" I commanded from the bridge of the lead ship. The cargo bay doors was wide opened. Rolling out was massive machines that looked like a cross between a bulldozer and a meat grinder. They were piloted by Goblins wearing thick fur coats and goggles.

"Let’s dig!" the foreman shouted.

The machines tore into the ice. This wasn’t just a mining operation for ore. We were mining history. Specifically, the frozen corpses of the Demon Legion that I had flash-frozen during the Siege of Winterhold. 50,000 was perfectly preserved bodies, and encased in ice. Their faces frozen in expressions of terror and rage.

"It’s like a TV dinner," Ahri muttered while looking out the window shivering. "Frozen food section."

"It’s raw material," I corrected her. I watched as a crane lifted a massive block of ice. Inside was a Fel-Guard, a brute of a demon with red skin and horns.

"Careful with that one!" Sparky yelled over the comms. "Don’t crack the skull! I need the cranial cavity intact for the CPU!"

"Understood!" The Goblin operator swung the crane.

This was Phase 1 of the Necro-Mech Project.

[Collection.]

"How long will this take?" Sylvia asked. She was standing next to me, unbothered by the cold thanks to her Dragon bloodline. She looked at the frozen wasteland that was once her mother’s empire.

"We clear this field in 24 hours," I said. "Efficiency is key."

"And then?"

"Then we ship them to the Processing Plant."

"To the... Slime Pit?"

"Yes."

Sylvia looked away. "It feels... disrespectful. Even for demonkind."

"Respect is only for the living," I said cold-heartedly. "The dead are just resources waiting to be reallocated." I turned to her. "You’re the Empress of the North now, Sylvia. Do you want these bodies to just sit here? Or do you want them to serve a purpose?"

"I want them gone," she admitted. "They remind me of the war."

"Then let’s recycle the war."

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[Location: The Star-Forge - Processing Plant (Basement Level 2)]

[Time: 12 Hours Later]

The smell was atrocious. It was a mix of melting ice, rotting meat, and acidic fumes. The frozen blocks were dropped onto a massive conveyor belt. They moved slowly toward a vat of bubbling green liquid.

[The Acid Bath.]

This was where the Slime Queen’s offspring had lived. Thousands of hungry acidic slimes. The ice block fell in. HISS. SIZZLE. The ice melted instantly. The demon inside was instantly thawed.

For a second, it looked like it might wake up, its eyes twitched, then the slimes swarmed. They didn’t eat the bones for they had been bred selectively by me to only consume soft tissue. They stripped the flesh, the organs, and the eyes. In seconds, a pristine white skeleton emerged from the vat. It was moved to the next stage.

[The Cleaning Station.]

Water Elementals that was summoned by Marina blasted the bones with high-pressure jets, removing any lingering slime or gore. Then, the skeletons were hung on hooks, moving down the line like coats in a dry cleaner.

"It’s... hauntingly efficient," Seraphina whispered. She was blessing the entire assembly line, but she looked pale. "Did we... did we do the right thing?"

"We are the industrialists," I said. " morality is subjective." I walked down the catwalk to the next section.

[The Cybernetics Bay.]

Here, the Goblins and Sparky were working. They took the clean skeletons, drilled into the bones, bolted metal plates onto the ribcages, replaced the leg bones with hydraulic pistons, shoved mana-batteries into the chest cavities, and finally, the head.

Sparky held a glowing red sensor eye. He jammed it into the empty eye socket of a Demon Lord skeleton. CLICK. WHIRR. He connected a wire to the base of the skull.

[System Booting...]

[OS: Necro-OS v1.0.]

[Directives: Obey Cain. Kill Everyone Else.]

The skeleton twitched. Its metal fingers flexed. "Rise," Sparky commanded. The Necro-Mech stood up. It was terrifying. A fusion of death and machine. It picked up a heavy Gatling gun attached to its arm. "READY," it buzzed.

"Excellent," I applauded. "Production rate?"

"One unit every 30 seconds," Sparky beamed. "We’ll have the army ready in a week."

"Make it three days," I ordered. "Run double shifts. Give the Goblins extra caffeine."

"But Boss! Their hearts will explode!"

"Then we put them in the Acid Bath and make Goblin-Mechs. Zero waste."

Sparky gulped. "Understood."

I walked to the end of the line. There was a special section. A restricted area. Inside a containment field, something massive was being built. It wasn’t a skeleton, but it was a suit.

[Project: Juggernaut.]

It was built from the bones of the Demon General Moloch who was the one I killed in the desert and the scraps of the Siege Behemoths. It stood 20 feet tall. A hulking monstrosity of bone armor and tank treads. Its right arm was a chainsaw, and its left arm was a cannon. But inside was empty, it needed a pilot. "Where is the candidate?" I asked.

The door opened. Gallywix walked in while leading in a small twitchy Goblin. This Goblin was covered in grease, scars, and tattoos. He wore a leather helmet and had a crazed look in his eyes. "This is Scrappy," Gallywix introduced him while keeping a safe distance. "He was kicked out of the Demolition Guild for using too much dynamite."

"Too much?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is there such a thing?"

"I like big boom!" Scrappy shouted while jumping up and down. "Big boom make Scrappy happy!"

"He’s perfect," I grinned wickedly.

I pointed at the Juggernaut. "Scrappy. Do you want to drive that?"

Scrappy looked at the bone-mech. His jaw dropped. "Big... bone... car?"

"It’s a tank. It has a chainsaw."

"Chainsaw go vroom?"

"Yes. Chainsaw go vroom."

Scrappy squealed with joy. He ran to the mech and climbed up the leg like a monkey, then he jumped into the cockpit which was located in the chest. "Fit is tight!" Scrappy yelled deafeningly.

"Sparky, seal him in shut."

"Seal him?" Sparky asked.

"Weld the door shut permanently. He doesn’t come out until the war is over."

Sparky hesitated, then nodded. He welded the cockpit shut.

[Pilot Integrated.]

[Juggernaut Online.]

The massive mech shuddered. The red eye in the center of the chest then lit up.

"VROOOOM!" Scrappy revved the engine. The chainsaw spun while sparking against the floor. "SCRAPPY CRUSH!"

"Not yet!" I shouted. "Save it for the Foreigns!"

"Foreigns go boom?"

"Yes. Big boom."

"YAAAAAY!"

The mech started doing a happy dance, shaking the entire facility as the result.

"Control him," I told Gallywix. "Put him in coma until deployment."

"I... I’ll try, Boss."

I walked away while looking satisfied. The ground army was ready, and the fleet was ready. Now, I needed to secure the ’Soft Power’. I opened the System Interface.

[Global Quest: The Grand Tournament.]

[Status: Announcing...]

I teleported to the broadcasting room in the Atlantis Spire.

Seraphina was waiting there while adjusting her makeup. She looked stunning in her ’Harlot Pope’ outfit.

"Are we on live?" I asked.

"In 3... 2... 1..."

The cameras was turned on. I was projected to every crystal ball, every town square, and every guild hall on the planet. "CITIZENS," I began my speech. "THE WAR APPROACHES. THE SKY WILL BURN. THE STARS WILL FALL. BUT FEAR NOT. FOR I AM HOSTING A PARTY." I spread my arms.

"THE FIRST INTER-CONTINENTAL TOURNAMENT OF POWER. I AM LOOKING FOR CHAMPIONS AND GENERALS. THE WINNER WILL RECEIVE..." I held up the small wooden box.

"A WISH. ANYTHING YOU DESIRE. GOLD? POWER? OR PERHAPS..." I opened the box. The [Revival Scroll] glowed with holy light. "A SECOND CHANCE."

The world went silent. A Revival Scroll. An item of legend. It could bring back the dead, cure any disease, or fix any mistake. Kings wanted it to cure their aging. Generals wanted it to revive their armies. Somewhere in the radioactive wasteland...

Kenji saw the broadcast on a broken TV he found in the ruins. His eyes widened open, and his green skin glowed. "Revival..." he rasped. "I can save... my arm. I can save... my honor." He stood up, and grabbed his rock. "MASTER!" Kenji yelled at Unit 77. "I AM GOING THERE!"

Unit 77 (Master Wu) nodded wisely. "GO, MY DISCIPLE. SHOW THEM THE POWER OF THE ROCK."

Kenji started running. He didn’t run like a human, but he ran like a beast, fueled by nuclear rage and plot armor.

Back in the studio... "Cut the feed," I ordered. The cameras went dark.

"He took the bait," Sylvia said while checking the satellite tracking. "Kenji is moving at Mach 1 toward the capital."

"Good."

"But Boss," Seraphina asked. "Are you really going to give the winner a Wish?"

"Of course," I smiled viciously.

"But what if they wish for your death?"

"Then I’ll grant it."

"What?!"

"I’ll grant them a ’death’ of their own."

I laughed heinously. "Because the Terms and Conditions of the wish..." I pulled out a magnifying glass, then pointed at the fine print on the scroll box. "...State that the Wish is granted by the ’Monkey’s Paw’ interpretation."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning they get what they asked for, but received in the worst way possible."

"You really are the Satan," Seraphina sighed admiringly.

I walked to the window. The sun was setting, the sky was turning a bruised purple, the blockade was still up there, and the Foreigns were watching. "Let them watch," I whispered. "Let them see our ’Games’. They think we are primitives that are fighting for scraps, but they don’t know that I’m building a Necro-Mech army in the basement." I checked my stats.

[Level: 44.]

[Class: Chaos Broker / Void Emperor.]

[Assets: Infinite.]

"I’m ready for the next level."

"Sparky. Prepare the Floating Arena."

"Where do we park it?"

"Park it right under the nose of the Foreign Flagship."

"Provocation?"

"Invitation."

I grinned viciously. "I want the Foreigns to have front-row seats to the carnage. Maybe I can sell them popcorn."