Headed by a Snake

Haelvia gnashed her teeth in annoyance.

Everyone had their complaints. None of them needed to be openly broadcasted by the mana-empowered voice of a Divine Armor, though.

*TSSSHEWWWW*

The colorful colossus that was Divine Armor Lancelot opened up his chest plates with a hiss of steam and sand.

The unbearable youth inside gave a sloppy salute as he showed off a grin full of pearly-whites, "Yo. You miss me?"

Haelvia sighed and shook her head-- heroically resisting the powerful urge to ask Gaheris to slam Lancelot's chest plates closed.

​ "No, Loki," She said in a low voice, "No, I did not."

Munifex Loukius was the only other pilot in Guild Metal Wolf.

He... might have been handsome... not that Haelvia particularly thought that.

Of the female population of Guild Metal Wolf, Loki was-- for want of a better term... popular.

Haelvia wondered if it was possible to dislike something that everyone else gushed and raved about... because it was baffling.

Loki was in the upper half of physically capable persons in the company, but nowhere near the top percentile.

He was one of the company's youngest mercenaries. Haelvia was pretty sure even *she* was older than he was.

Between the boy's baby-face, blatant insubordination, and general immaturity, the brat hadn't grown up past twelve.

It was like everyone in the guild but she was convinced that the boy was a Hero of Tyrion, blessed by the Flame herself.

...Or maybe everyone thought he was so great because there was no one more interesting around?

"Ugh. We probably would'a been at Whitehearth by now if we were traveling by road," The green-haired Munifex groaned.

"It's safer this way," Haelvia sighed. "How about you just be thankful, Loki? You're the only one in the company that's not sunburnt and sunblind."

Loki swept back his thick, dark-green hair with arms that looked more like they were made from sloppily twisted cable rather than thick, reliable muscle.

Sweat was pouring down his face like he'd just ran a two-mile course-- that ended with a swim in a lake.

Haelvia patted the red headband she wore over her long, blonde ponytail.

Dry.

The arid desert heat wicked away all her own perspiration.

"Well, maybe you should just get a better set of Divine Armor?" Loki's snaggletooth stuck out of his lips as he sneered.

Haelvia thought it made him look... uneducated... "Like... yours, you mean?"

"Yeah! Y'should get something with an Arcanite Core-- s'like mine! Listen, I got connections in Whitehearth-- I know a guy!"

Haelvia looked away... at the neverending expanse of sand, cacti, rock formations, and desert shrubbery. The mountains looked far, far away... and with Whitehearth beyond it, she almost wanted to agree with Loki's exaggerated estimate.

Loki's Divine Armor was drastically different from hers.

Lancelot was forged of steel and Arcanite by the best and brightest minds in the Eastern States. He was about twenty feet tall-- only a single normal-sized person taller than Gaheris. From what she'd read on the differences between Divine Armors between the States and Tyrion, that was normal.

Munifex Loukius, he was chosen as its pilot, not on account of his affinity, but due to his naturally high reserve of mana. That was also the reason everyone sang his praises as a yet undiscovered Hero.

Unfortunately, the brat believed them wholeheartedly.

...Heroes were supposed to be humble, weren't they?

It probably would have made more sense to have the higher-mana pilot in command of Gaheris, a complete mana construct, rather than a hybrid.

It would have made more sense for *any* Munifex to be chosen as the pilot for Gaheris...

However, he was... stubborn. Gaheris had nearly zero affinity with anyone in the company. Even Loki and his infinite-mana cheat couldn't force him further than the length of a palm.

Haelvia was an Immunes. Her dad taught her how to forge, fix broken tools and weapons, and bang out dents in armor.

With the Wolves, she underwent basic combat training-- the same as everyone else... but she had nowhere near the combat prowess of the veteran Munifices... or battle-crazed Legionnaires like Loki.

It couldn't be helped.

Gaheris had a good sense for his pilot... or the quality of his other potential pilots were... not good.

Haelvia unconsciously brushed her ashy fingers against the small, flared burnished-metal guard on her left arm. She welded it to her armguard, herself.

The Saronite Protector was Gaheris' key... and the boost the focus provided to Gaheris' mana-efficiency was the only reason her pitiful mana reserves could keep him walking.

Loki obviously had no issue channeling additional mana into Lancelot to keep the temperature inside at least... tolerable.

Haelvia had to keep Gaheris' armored shell open to avoid her insides from transforming into a slow-cooked stew.

The desert air was wreaking havoc on her skin... but she wouldn't waste her energy on something so... frivolous.

If she ran out of mana... Gaheris' form would become as brittle as the ancient animal bones littered across the sandy plains. Even a single strike from a Bronze-Ranker would dissolve him into mana dust.

It'd also give her a splitting headache and prevent her from re-summoning him-- lasting a couple of suns, minimum.

There was no point in her being envious of her fellow pilot...

Some people were just born with a higher mana capacity. It wasn't something she could help... and if she could, she wouldn't know where to begin.

Aaaaanyroad... being comfortable on a Guild march was a luxury, not a right.

"Getting a new Divine Armor won't be happening anytime soon, Loki," Haelvia shook her head. "The guild hasn't even paid off Gaheris, yet... or Lancelot, for that matter."

"Oh, really? Come onnnn," Loki stretched his arms, trying to embody the sloppy ruffian personality that he painstakingly tried to craft for himself, "How much could that hunk o' junk even cost?"

"More coin than you or I've ever seen in one place," Haelvia groaned with a shrug.

Trying to keep her temper in check, she laid down some cold hard facts, "Gaheris is a second-generation construct made by Harkus Mors... the Divine Armorsmith who made the Starfury and the Dawnbringer."