Heavy Metal [ A Monster Evolution LitRPG ]
Chapter 150 – Armor Puppets.

The silence held for a few heartbeats after the door closed behind Varkas. Commander Arlin's crimson eyes remained fixed on the door for a moment before she turned her attention to Rusty.

"So, you're the one who got 'lost' during the retreat."

Rusty straightened slightly. The weight of her gaze pressed on him with the same intensity as the Orc Warchief he had fled. This was yet another time he encountered someone stronger than him but for the time being, he still needed to hide himself. 

"Yes, ma'am."

Alexander urged him to be respectful toward the woman, quietly offering advice on how to speak while hiding inside his helmet. No one seemed to think he was a monster anymore, as his mannerisms had begun to improve and now appeared much more natural.

"The guard informed me that you followed the Orcs through the forest. Do you have any usable information about their movements or numbers? Something we can act on? You will, of course, be compensated for your trouble."

Arlin folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. Rusty didn’t answer right away. He took a breath, an unnecessary gesture for someone like him, but one that helped maintain the illusion of thought, of consideration. Inside his helmet, Aburdon’s voice whispered.

"Give her a partial truth. Enough to be useful, not enough to raise suspicion. Make it believable. And do not mention the Barbarians."

He weighed his options, choosing which details to share. Then he began describing how he had tracked one of the Orcs for a time before losing sight of him deeper in the forest.

"I followed a wounded Orc along the western forest ridge. One hour, maybe two at most…"

He kept the timing vague. Specific details could unravel the lie. Between his fabrications, he included real information, pointing out the locations of several temporary Orc camps. He avoided mentioning the one he had actually raided.

Rusty knew the locals would likely send scouts to verify his report. If they came across the ravaged camp filled with dead Orcs, the questions would begin. Questions he had no intention of answering. It was smarter to appear weaker than he truly was. Let them underestimate him. That way, when the time came, he could strike without warning.

"That’s awfully vague. No real numbers, and only a few directions? Seems like bringing you in was a waste of time."

Commander Arlin said flatly. Her voice was neither harsh nor kind, but it carried clear disappointment.

"Still, it lines up with some of the scattered reports we've been receiving..."

She began rubbing her chin in thought and glanced toward one of the nearby guards. A man stepped forward and started writing something on the large map that lay across the desk. Several locations were already marked there, and if Rusty had asked Aburdon, he was sure the demon lord would have confirmed their accuracy.

"Oh, right. Give the adventurer the usual payment… You can leave.”

There was no gratitude in her voice, and it was clear he had not earned even a sliver of her favor. The moment he stopped speaking, she seemed to forget he was still in the room. If not for the faint glow of his armor catching her eye, she might not have given the order to pay him at all.

"Follow me."

One of the guards stepped forward, handed him a single silver coin, and motioned for him to leave. Rusty gave a silent nod and walked out. The door creaked and then slammed shut behind him as the soldiers quickly pulled it closed. This woman felt more dangerous than the mercenary leader he had met before.

"So rude. Once we grow stronger, how about we cut off a finger or two?"

The guard commander didn’t see him as worthwhile which caused Aburdon to be enraged. The spirit clearly took offense at the disrespect. Soon, he and Alexander were going back and forth.

"What are you even saying? We are not doing anything like that."

“Be silent, you two, let us return to our lair, I’m sure Gleam is already worried!”

His metallic boots echoed softly against the ground as he left the barracks. Life around him continued as if he had never been there. People filled the streets, and he could see shops and taverns beginning to open for the day. It was clear these people had grown used to this kind of life and thought little of it.

With haste, Rusty slipped into the shadows, his pace quickening. He had one final task to complete as he needed to evolve once again. Back in the slums, the world felt different compared to the district he had just left. Many people were missing, likely still working to clear debris and recover bodies near the city walls.

His partially collapsed lair stood at the end of a narrow alleyway. The roof still needed repairs, but the entrances appeared untouched. The door remained shut, and the windows were still boarded with roughly nailed planks. 

Compared to the surrounding buildings, his lair had been left untouched. Several nearby structures showed signs of break-ins, with doors hanging open and the occasional splatter of blood marking the stone. It seemed some people had used the chaos of the siege as an excuse to loot or settle scores. His place, however, was too decrepit to be considered worth the effort. That would likely change once he went through with his plan to build a smithy. When that time came, he would need to find a way to protect it.

*WHUMP.*

Something dropped from the rooftop and landed squarely on his helmet.

*Clank!*

"Oh… Gleam?"

He staggered back, one arm raised on instinct as a pair of ant legs clung to his head. The small ant familiar chirped in satisfaction and perched herself atop him like a regal crown.

“(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)”

"I'm glad to see you two.”

“ (¬_¬) “

“I’m late? Sorry, they made me stand there for hours, I couldn’t do anything about it.”

It seemed that Gleam was irritated about having to wait for him, but now that they were reunited, she returned to her usual spot on his shoulder. Without hesitation, he made his way toward the entrance of his current home. The door was shut and barred from the inside. He stepped closer and gave it four distinct knocks, part of a secret code Rolo had instructed him to use.

He wasn’t sure whether the four children were still inside. They had been told to flee if monsters or thieves ever came. A moment later, he heard movement from within. Someone was there.

"Is it the Mister?"

"His name is Mr. Edmund."

A shuffle of small feet sounded on the other side of the door, followed by hushed whispering. Rusty heard the sliding of a wooden bar, the creak of hinges protesting as the door cracked open just wide enough for a pair of eyes to peer out.

"Ria, don’t open it all the way! What if it’s not him?" 

Whispered a voice belonging to a young man. Isan, by the sound of it.

“But look, it’s Gleam!” 

Ria replied. 

"No one else has an ant like that!"

The door opened wider, and four small faces peeked out. Ria and Isan stood in front, nearly identical in every way save for the short braid Ria wore to one side. Behind them stood Rolo, arms folded and eyes sharp, as always. Natia clung to his shirt, half-hiding behind him, her thumb in her mouth.

“Welcome back.”

Rolo spoke as Rusty stepped through the door. He hadn’t known these children for very long, but it seemed they had grown used to him. They no longer saw him as a threat. Perhaps they even trusted him, since he had already saved them twice. Once inside, Gleam quickly leapt down and fluttered over to Natia, the youngest. She spread her wings proudly, as if showing off a badge of honor.

“Ohhh…”

Natia’s eyes widened in awe as she reached out cautiously, her tiny fingers brushing the smooth surface of Gleam’s shimmering wings. The little ant gave a satisfied chirp and tilted her head toward the girl in approval.

"They are so shiny… and soft!"

Natia gasped, her eyes sparkling with joy. Rusty considered explaining to the children that Gleam had evolved, but they seemed lost in their own little world. The twins soon joined Natia, laughing and playing as Gleam proudly displayed her new features.

Rusty, however, had other things on his mind. He flicked the silver coin he had received from the guards toward Rolo

"Huh, t-this is...?"

"Go buy yourself something to eat."

"I... T-thank you, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to repay you..."

The young man seemed to struggle with accepting the silver coin. Not long ago, he and the others had been used by thugs, forced to steal or commit petty crimes just to survive. Now they had a safe place to stay and were even given food without having to ask. 

Still, Rusty had plans for the four children. Once his smithy was up and running, they would begin working there. For now, though, he chose to follow Alexander's advice on what to say.

"You’ll repay me when you’re older. This is what adults are for."

"Yes!"

Rolo nodded and gave a small bow, a strange gesture of recognition that Rusty didn’t fully understand. He still found humans puzzling, but he sensed that this young one could be trusted, at least to a certain extent. With Gleam keeping the children entertained, Rusty made his way to the private chambers he had set up in the basement of the house.

“Now then… How does this skill work?”

Before continuing with his evolution, Rusty wanted to understand how his new skill, Puppet Armor, actually worked. He descended into the dim basement, which had once been thick with dust. The children had been allowed temporary access and had used the time to clean and organize parts of it. Some of his weapons and a variety of blacksmithing tools were scattered around, but what he needed now was more armor.

“I need a few armors.”

Using his SP, he summoned a few old acquaintances, bodies he had once inhabited in earlier stages of his life. The first was the bronze armor that had carried him through the dungeon. The second was the iron body he had used to conquer the spider-infested forest. Lastly came the steel form, the strongest and most refined version he had wielded so far. All three shared a similar shape and mirrored his monster forms, with the primary difference lying in the metal each was forged from.

"Let's see what this new skill really does..."

Rusty extended his hand toward the bronze suit, the weakest and least magical of the three. He focused his mind and activated the Puppet Armor skill. A faint blue glyph shimmered beneath the armor as invisible threads of mana stretched out and connected with the joints. The suit twitched, then jerked upright with a loud clatter.

"Whoa!"

The bronze puppet stood motionless, as if waiting for a signal. Rusty quickly realized the issue and gave it a simple command. He pointed to a dagger lying on a nearby workbench.

"Pick it up?"

To his surprise, the armor lurched forward. Its movements were sluggish at first, but as the skill took hold, it began to move with a strange fluidity. It almost looked alive.

"Raise your arm."

The puppet obeyed and lifted the dagger.

"Do a spin."

It turned clumsily, scraping against the stone floor, but the motion was completed. Then Aburdon's voice echoed from within Rusty's helmet. He sounded amused.

"Crude but functional. It behaves like a low-grade golem. It has limited will, but it is highly obedient. It will serve us well. Still, I wonder..."

With no one else around, Aburdon emerged from Rusty's helmet and drifted toward the animated armor. He slipped into the bronze shell, and almost immediately, the color of the metal began to change. The armor already had a unique hue due to the twilight bronze it was made from, but now it was darkening rapidly, shifting toward a deep, pitch black.

"Yes! A body I can use. With this I..."

Aburdon was ecstatic. It seemed the Puppet Armor skill was allowing him to take control. The transformation was nearly complete when Rusty felt a sudden drop in his mana. His reserves were dangerously low. Instinct screamed at him that if he didn’t cancel the skill now, he might lose consciousness, or worse, die.

Before Aburdon could finish whatever he was attempting, Rusty forced the skill to stop. The bronze armor immediately collapsed under its own weight. The glowing glyph within it vanished, and the room fell silent once more.

"No, I was almost there. I could feel my senses returning to me!"

Aburdon floated out of the collapsed suit of armor and returned to his place within the helmet. Rusty leaned back against the stone wall and quickly opened his status screen. The moment Aburdon had tried to take control of the puppeteered armor, Rusty's mana had begun to drain at an alarming rate. Now, only four points remained. If it had reached zero, he knew he would have become dormant for a long time.

"That was a close call. Never do that again, Aburdon!"

"Bah, I was almost there. Just give me another chance. I'll make it work!"

Aburdon continued to complain, clearly not listening, but it was obvious now that whatever he had been trying to do was not possible. Still, the idea was intriguing. If Aburdon or Alexander, with their vast combat experience, could inhabit even the weaker armors, Rusty would gain two potential allies to support him in battle. After witnessing the strength of nobles, mercenaries, and even adventurers, he had come to realize that fighting alone might not be the best approach.

Once he had calmed down and restored some of his mana, he resumed the tests. This time, he made sure Aburdon would not interfere. The next target was the iron armor. When he activated the skill, the suit began to move, but it required far more mana than expected. The bronze armor had taken about forty percent of his total, but the iron form consumed nearly twice that. Its movements were also sluggish, as if his skill level was too low to properly command it.

The steel armor could not even be activated. His current mana pool was far too small to support it. With that, the tests were complete. Now that he understood the limits and potential of the Puppet Armor skill, it was time to return to the soul forge. He would choose a new body, craft new weapons, and continue his summoning missions.

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