The recklessness of the selfish intentions of these pathetic creatures becomes obvious...

So, the necessary level of energy for the operation of peripheral systems has been restored.

Your golem-core is functioning stably.

The damage to the hull and the wear of the external structures do not reach a level dangerous for survival.

When the last large stone from your steel body is removed by the hands of these idiots, you begin to act quickly.

Dash up!

Your large and extremely heavy "body" in a split second jumps up almost to the level of the place where the ceiling of this room once was.

As you jump, your arms make lightning-fast circular strikes, trying to hit several targets at once.

And you succeed.

A powerful blow from your left steel fist breaks the chest of the lizardman, who turned to the side, talking to the "boss".

Such inattention is fatal in battle...

Result: broken rib bones, streams of blood and pieces of bloody meat flying in all directions.

The lifeless body of the lizardman is thrown back about four meters. This corpse hits the wall and falls limply onto the dirty floor among piles of garbage.

Instantly, the small magical sphere of illumination (which was located near the central sector of the ceiling of the room), which was supported by this pathetic failed mage, disappears.

You don't care about this - after all, you have a magically conditioned ability to see in the dark. The cultists who created the combat steel golems certainly foresaw the need for night battles...

Your right steel fist hits the dwarf's left shoulder.

A very painful wound - your opponent's left arm is clearly now non-functional.

The dwarf is thrown back three meters. He groans in pain, curses and draws his small one-handed axe with a slightly serrated blade.

Your jump hits home – you land on your feet, making a loud sound that echoes through the ruins.

A steel golem weighing about half a ton…

Now these worthless marauders will feel your wrath on their skins…

The so-called “boss” rushes towards you.

He delivers a series of slashing blows with his long sword, the blade of which emits a faint orange glow.

You block and parry these blows one after another.

However, you immediately realize that the enemy’s weapon can harm you under favorable circumstances.

A normal weapon for your “body” can hardly pose a significant threat. A steel body is a good defense.

But this blade… leaves small cutting marks on the steel of your hands!

"This blade is clearly magical... If the human-scum can deliver a strong thrust into the central sector and reach the golem-core, then it will mean my irreversible destruction..." - your thoughts are calm and rational.

So you double the speed of your attacks.

A second later, the blows of your steel fists leave only pitiful fragments of your opponent's shield.

He throws the useless trash (which until recently was a round oak shield covered with an iron rim) away.

And then this human male furiously pounces on you, trying to deliver a powerful thrust to your body.

The bastard is not so stupid...

He probably guessed that he could hurt you...

You let him get as close as possible...

And then you perform a quick spinning strike.

A deceptive feint with an imaginary vulnerability. This move has often helped you in the past.

Your body deviates a dozen centimeters to the side.

The tip of the magical longsword pierces only air.

A kick from your steel leg knocks off the enemy's legs.

He loses his balance and falls to the floor.

Before he can get his bearings, you jump with your two steel legs right on his head.

The enormous weight of your steel body crushes the bones of his skull and flesh.

The second enemy is dead.

In place of his face, there is now only a disgusting mess of bloody meat and bone fragments.

The fragile, short female half-elf, sobbing, lets out a shriek of horror: "Oh, no! Devin!"

She tries to attack you with primitive spells.

"Dilettant... Mediocrity..." - you think, while several small discharges of silver-colored magical energy hit the upper sectors of your body. The damage from such attacks is minimal. Something like this could only be a significant danger to you if you were attacked by about a dozen of such half-educated wizards.

You accelerate and run towards the third opponent.

A blow from a small throwing axe to your head does not even distract you.

Probably, the dwarf decided to attack you from a distance. But it was an ordinary weapon, not a magical one.

Your entire massive steel body hits the female half-elf at full speed, simply pressing her weak flesh into the stone wall of the room.

Multiple bone fractures...

A lot of blood...

You are used to finishing the job - so a blow from a steel fist to the neck area will clearly not be superfluous.

After this blow, the head of the female half-elf separates from the body and falls into the mud...

You are pleased with the growing feeling of excitement of the battle.

After a long period of **** inaction...

After so many years (or decades, or even centuries?)...

You are back in battle.

You are again doing what you are meant to do.

"Fuck all this stinking shit!" - you hear the dwarf curse.

You quickly turn around, preparing to block the attacks of another enemy.

However, you see only the receding silhouette of the dwarf, who crawls through one of the large breaches in the wall of the room.

The receding sound of running.

The dwarf is trying to escape.

So, what will you do now?

Will you try to catch up with the dwarf? You can kill him right away or you can interrogate him before that. You remember that the "boss" mentioned that in a couple of hours a ship should be waiting for these idiots on the southern coast of the island.

The island...

The city used to be located on a peninsula. How much time has really passed?

Hundreds of years...

Yes, you recall the words of the female half-elf. More than three hundred years have passed since the storming of the city.

Your memory is very vague. When creating combat steel golems, cult mages destroyed everything "unnecessary": memories, feelings, attachments, elements of personality...

Only the "useful" was left. Rage, hatred, anger, the ability to methodically plan the destruction of those who would be called "enemies".

As a result, you can not remember almost any specific information about your past life.

You were a warrior before all this nightmare... Yes, probably...

Almost all that is among your memories are numerous battles for the glory of the cult.

Many violent deaths.

And your participation in all this.

You were a truly effective weapon...

And now...

Now your hatred is directed at the representatives of the cult. You want ****.

And what does this mean?

It means that your control rod is not currently in anyone's possession!

Otherwise, you would not be able to resist the desire of the one who controls this magical control rod. You would feel the pulsation of a magical impulse inside the golem-core. You would sense the direction you needed to go. And you wouldn't be able to resist. You would go to the new master.

But now there is nothing like that.

Either your control rod is just lying among the ruins, or this magical item has been destroyed.

The second option is preferable for you.

You don't want to be a **** to anyone again.

But to be sure, you should definitely search the ruins of what was once your master's family mansion.

So, what will you choose: catch up with the dwarf or search the ruins of the house?