Chapter 173: I Am No One's Nemesis, For To Me, You Are All the Same

“Isn’t it strange? Why your body suddenly stopped obeying you?”

Fischer didn’t answer. His entire focus was on reclaiming control over his mech.

Once a flawless extension of his will, the golden armor now responded to nothing.

Every command he issued vanished into silence—like stones dropped into an endless abyss.

“Still struggling?”

Tian Dao’s hand pressed down harder on his shoulder.

A sharp crack echoed through the air.

The once-impenetrable golden plating split open under the slightest pressure. Cracks spiderwebbed across the shoulder joint, spreading rapidly across the armor’s surface.

Through the neural link, Fischer felt the agony—searing, tearing pain as his body was torn apart from within.

But before the pain could fully register in his mind, he finally found it—the key to breaking the deadlock.

Boom!

Dozens of steam vents burst across his body. Thick white vapor erupted outward, swallowing both Tian Dao and Fischer in an instant.

Using the steam as cover, Fischer shed his heavy golden armor in a single fluid motion, creating distance between himself and Tian Dao.

“Casting off the shell? Quite clever, Will.”

As the fog cleared, Tian Dao brushed ash and smoke from his coat, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.

Fischer stood bare now—no armor, no mechanical shell. Just the sleek, silver-gray combat suit beneath. Freed from the armor’s weight, he reclaimed his true form: the Freedom of a being unbound.

“Controlling metal… even partial quantum components… via Vector Control.”

Tian Dao’s voice was calm, almost respectful.

“You’re right, Tian Dao Siming. You truly are the greatest threat to our Stellar Envoy.”

From the vapor, Tian Dao stepped forward, his left hand holding the Quantum Cube—its surface spinning, absorbing invisible quantum data from the air.

“You’re wrong.”

Before Tian Dao could finish, Fischer moved.

Two Gatling barrels snapped out from his shoulders. Rotating barrels roared to life, unleashing a torrent of specialized bullets—designed specifically to dismantle Stellar Envoy systems—toward Tian Dao like a storm of fire.

But at five meters, the bullets froze.

Like time itself had paused.

Tian Dao stood unmoved in the middle of the suspended hail of death, and smiled.

Snap!

A single finger snapped.

The frozen bullets reversed course in an instant—now aimed directly at Fischer.

Even a Third Rank mid-tier Stellar Envoy like him had to dodge desperately, weaving through the barrage.

All the while, Tian Dao advanced—calm, unhurried—his voice soft, almost gentle.

“I am no one’s nemesis. Because to me… whether machine or flesh, the end is always the same.”

Just as Fischer dodged the final bullet, his right foot slammed into something cold and lifeless—Pel’s headless corpse.

He turned, but Tian Dao was already there.

Fingers pointed straight at his chest.

Fischer raised his forearm, preparing to activate the high-frequency vibro-blade hidden within.

But as his gaze locked onto Tian Dao’s eyes—those pale, shimmering sapphire orbs—his hand froze.

Tian Dao’s body was exposed. Vulnerable.

Yet Fischer’s machine mind knew—no matter what he did, the outcome was already written.

Those eyes had seen every possible future.

Predicted every move.

And delivered a single, inescapable verdict: death.

Boom!

A black rift tore through his chest.

Fischer heard it—the sound of something breaking inside him.

What had shattered?

He looked down.

Where his heart should have been, a third of his Power Core had exploded outward, dissolving into glowing fragments that drifted into the air like dying stars.

Oh… so this is what it feels like when my heart breaks.

No pain. No fear.

Fischer accepted death with perfect calm.

For him, emotion had long since been erased.

Only rules. Obedience. The purpose of being a faithful tool of the Mechanical God.

Even knowing it was futile, he raised his mechanical greatsword—delivering his final strike, the ultimate act of purification.

Though he knew, deep down, it was nothing but a dream.

“Such a pity,” Tian Dao murmured, watching the man die still clinging to doctrine.

No sorrow. No anger. Only a quiet, distant pity.

Because to him, Fischer—like all the others who had cast aside human feeling—had already been dead long before their bodies fell.

Their souls extinguished.

Their bodies merely moving shells, puppets dancing in the dark.

Tian Dao did not question whether this was right or wrong.

He represented no one.

He answered to no one.

He only did what he chose to do.

Clang!

The greatsword fell to the ground, heavy and lifeless.

Fischer’s left hand clung to Tian Dao’s coat, his towering frame sinking slowly to one knee.

The engine in his chest let out one final, fading roar.

Color drained from his face.

Light vanished from his eyes.

Tian Dao looked down.

His Quantum Cube flared with a soft, ethereal blue glow.

Moments later, a pigeon-egg-sized green crystal floated from Fischer’s chest, drifting into the Cube.

[Name: Steam Capital Quantum Key (1/12)]

[Effect: Grants access to the Central Authority Permission Core of Steam Capital Quantum Space, enabling control over all authorized Steam Capital mechanized units.]

Thud!

Without his Power Core or the quantum key, Fischer’s body collapsed like a broken puppet.

Ironically, the man who prided himself on absolute logic—Golden Knight of the Gear Church—bled not black oil or steam, but crimson blood.

Just like the humans he had killed.

Tian Dao stood over him, quiet, unblinking.

“When you willingly became a tool, you also surrendered your right to control your own fate.”

“Perhaps… death is the only mercy left for you.”

At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside—rapid, heavy, countless.

No need to guess. The Church’s patrol had arrived.

Tian Dao’s All-Forms Concealment could hide sound, but not shattered walls or the tremors of battle.

Discovery was only a matter of time.

But Tian Dao didn’t care.

He didn’t even bother with his mask.

He walked straight toward the main door.

In an instant, his presence seemed to slip out of sync with the world.

The Church knights charged in—clad in armor, shouting, weapons drawn—but they passed right through him, as if he were not there at all.

Outside, in the courtyard, Tian Dao tilted his head toward the clear night sky.

He stretched lazily, arms high.

Behind him, the chaos of alarms, shouts, and static-filled comms erupted in disarray.

“After all this… time to go home.”

And with that, he stepped out into the darkness—walking openly into the night, vanishing into the shadows.

Not long after, the mechanical clock inside the church rang.

This time, the chime was different—long, deep, heavy.

Not a warning.

Not a call.

But a sigh.

A release.

Beneath the moonlight, a newly shed cicada climbed onto an old branch outside the church.

In a night lit by torches and moving figures, the first cicada of summer sang.

But summer’s signs were never just cicadas.

Above the city, a dark cloud drifted silently across the sky—advancing toward Steam Capital.

The storm was coming.

And it would be a summer downpour.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end