The core ejected in a spray of white-hot plasma, blinding the Phalanx’s optical sensors. In that moment of artificial eclipse, Ariane drove the Panzer Paladin forward like a lance. She discarded the Gloom Lance. She discarded defense. She used the suit’s own massive weight and the last shred of its emergency thrusters to turn the Paladin into a seventy-ton projectile.
Ariane sat down against the giant’s neck, watching the sun fully clear the mountains. "For the next time." Panzer Paladin
Flint’s voice cut through her grief. "Incoming. North ridge. Two heavies, plasma-carapace." The core ejected in a spray of white-hot
The first heavy raised a claw. The Paladin’s greatsword passed through its torso like smoke through a screen. The demon froze, then collapsed into inert, rusted scrap. The second swung a plasma mace. Ariane parried—the impact sent shockwaves across the ridge, shattering boulders—and riposted through its neck joint. She discarded defense
So she did something Malachar could not predict.
"That will give us ninety seconds of combat runtime. Then we fall."
In the shadow of the crumbling Orbital Gate, Squire Genn leaned on her broken halberd and watched the sky burn. Above her, the colossal war machine known as the Panzer Paladin —a suit of armor the size a cathedral—took a single, thunderous step forward. Its visor, a slit of molten gold, scanned the horizon for its next target.