I Devour the Leftovers

Chapter 16: The Tribe

The scavengers called themselves the Ironclad. Their leader was Mara, the scarred woman with the gravelly voice. They didn't trust Kaelen, but they respected power. And Kaelen had demonstrated plenty of that.

Over the next few days, Kaelen helped them dismantle the Steam Golem. He used his Acidic Spray to cut through the thickest plates of metal, exposing the valuable Steam Core and Gearwork Circuits. The Ironclad had never seen such efficiency.

In return, Mara allowed him to keep the golem's Mana Capacitor—a fist-sized crystal that hummed with stored energy. It was a feast for the Vyre.

[Consumption: High-Density Mana Capacitor]

[Parasite Evolution: +2.5%]

[Trait Upgraded: Adaptive Armor -> Living Metal Shell]

Kaelen's carapace thickened. It now covered his entire torso, forming a seamless, flexible suit of organic metal. He was becoming less human with every meal.

At night, around the campfire, Mara shared information. She told him about the Rust King.

"He rules the northern part of the Wasteland," Mara said, poking the fire with a stick. "He commands the Rustborn—mutants who worship decay and entropy. They want to turn everything into rust and dust."

She looked at Kaelen, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "They're coming for us. The Ironclad are the only thing standing between them and the old world's treasures."

Kaelen said nothing. He just listened.

"They say the Rust King has a weapon," Mara continued. "A cannon that shoots pure corruption. It turns metal to rust and flesh to rot."

Kaelen felt the Vyre stir in his chest. Corruption. Decay. It was the opposite of what he was becoming. He was synthesis. Growth. Evolution.

The Rust King was an enemy.

Mara leaned forward. "You're strong, stranger. Stronger than any of us. Join us. Help us fight the Rust King. And when we win, you can have all the scrap you want."

Kaelen looked at the fire. He didn't care about the Ironclad. He didn't care about the Rust King's ideology.

But he cared about the resources. The Rust King's forces would have weapons. Armor. Magical artifacts.

It was a new hunting ground.

"I'll fight," Kaelen said, his voice flat. "But I keep what I kill."

Mara smiled, a flash of white teeth in her scarred face. "Deal."

The next morning, the alarm was raised. A scout had spotted a column of Rustborn moving toward their position.

The battle was about to begin.