That same day, at the Branch Factory on a side branch of the Gallbladder junction.
"Stop! Stop, stop-!!"
Crash!
The four-meter-long Back-Armored War Beast rammed over an empty skeletal frame, sending debris bouncing across the floor.
[Anemia]'s teeth clacked together as he jolted in the saddle. He hurriedly released the taut Control Reins and pressed his palm against the Stop Interface in the center of the saddle.
All six thick legs braced against the ground, finally bringing the beast to a halt.
"I told you to take it for a test drive, not demolish the factory."
[Hannibal] stood outside the railing with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Still getting the hang of it."
[Anemia] gave an awkward laugh and rubbed his forehead, which had nearly struck the neck armor.
"Learn forward, reverse, turn, and stop first." [Hannibal] tapped the two supple Control Reins beside the saddle. "These transmit your commands, but the beast doesn't understand you yelling 'brake.' You in the back, quit laughing and get up there to practice too!"
The Heavy Spearman, who had been doubled over with laughter, immediately pulled a long face.
A quarter of an hour later, after taking turns in the saddle, the two of them could finally make the war beast obediently complete a circuit.
Its thick armor rose and fell as its six feet hit the ground, the heavy footfalls making the soles of their boots tingle.
[Anemia] circled the war beast twice, finding it harder to look away with every passing moment.
More than sixteen days had passed since they seized the two Hatcheries and sold the equipment to the craftsmen.
Their party had taken a long-term garrison contract here, rotating factory guard duty and material escorts, with payment settled daily. His old chest and rib injuries had healed after