This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Mista9000 on 2025-06-26 21:12:36+00:00.
This week we help a handsome hero hop into the horror of harrowing hair removal!
A wholesome* story about a mostly sane demonologist trying his best to usher in a post-scarcity utopia using imps. It’s a great read if you like optimism, progress, character growth, hard magic, and advancements that have a real impact on the world. I spend a ton of time getting the details right, focusing on grounding the story so that the more fantastic bits shine. A new chapter every Thursday.
**Some conditions apply, viewer cynicism is advised.*
Map of Hyruxia
Map of the Factory and grounds
Map of Pine Bluff
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*****
The town of Pine Bluff had quieted since Rikad left to arm the rebels, though only a small inner circle even knew of the mission. Trade ships were now a near-constant parade, and the mighty golems had already begun construction on a second and third dock.
The legendary Mageguard, brave defenders of progress, spent most afternoons playing cards.
“So I heard a rumor,” Theros said, low and ominous. “They say the mage wants to do the thing.”
Eowin leaned forward. “You don’t mean…”
Klive’s eyes widened, “No way.”
Theros grinned and laid his cards face down, “Oh yes. Golem-armor. Why enchant bones when you can enchant steel?”
“Finally! Could you imagine?” Klive gasped. “Striding across the harbor? Flinging warships into the sun?”
Theros nodded. “Taller than a church spire. Arms thicker than a cask. More armoured than a fortress, we’d be unstoppable.”
“Even if I could say anything, I’d still yell ‘Merp’ before slaughtering an entire army,” Eowin boasted.
Their card game was long forgotten when one of the mage’s apprentices approached. It was Vanik, the broad-shouldered golem-smith, resplendent in mage robes.
“Ahem. I’m looking for a volunteer—for weapons testing—”
All three men shot up their hands instantly, jostling to be chosen.
“Oh! Ooh! Pick me!”
“Ah, um. Eowin. Please come with me. Mage Thippily has measurements to gather before we begin.”
Eowin leapt to his feet, flexed, and stuck out his tongue. “Merp, merp, turkeys!” he shouted, sprinting after Vanik.
It’s happening. I’ll be the mightiest warrior in the world.
He was led into the mage’s chambers: velvet curtains, overstuffed sofas, and the reassuring aroma of expensive tea.
“Ah! Eowin, is it? Grand. Stand there while my imps measure you.”
Eowin saluted and stepped into position. A dozen imps scrambled, wrapping him in measuring tapes, scribbling, skittering over his shoulders and knees. He barely noticed; stranger things happened every day.
“Thank you so much for volunteering,” the Mage said. “It’s hard to get willing… test participants. Are you aware of what we have in mind?”
“No sir. Is it golem-armor?”
“Most perceptive! Indeed it is —well, phase one. We’ve solved most of the known problems, which means we’ll now encounter thousands of unknown ones. But that’s how progress works!”
Eowin nodded solemnly.
It’s happening. They’ll build towns in the footprints I leave.
His smile widened.
“Just a few preliminary questions,” Grigory said. “Do you often think about drowning?”
“Uh… never?”
“Good, good. How would you rate your fear of your thoughts becoming corporeal and trying to kill you?”
“Zero, until now.”
“Perfect. Just a neuro-arcano gel compatibility thing. I assume you’re fine being paralyzed in a fluid-filled metal tube?”
“What?”
“Excellent! Just one final step: you’ll need to get rid of your hair. We don’t want adversarial cascades. Gel’s very expensive.”
“Certainly. I’ll get a shave.”
“No, no, every hair. I cannot stress this enough. One loose follicle in the tube and—”
He shuddered. “It doesn’t bear thinking about. All hair. All gone.”
Eowin gulped and nodded.
“Capital! Meet me in the factory tomorrow, after breakfast. We’ll make history!”
Eowin bowed and left.
Time to see if the barber wants to earn a tip, I guess! Trading a bit of chest hair for the strength of a dozen gods is a bargain!
He walked into the armoury, and looked at the duty roster. A personal mission for the Mage was surely the highest priority, so he removed his marker off his next watch, and slid Theros’ into the slot. He doesn’t need a day off this week. Eowin took off his mail and left, cutting through the dining hall.
“Bad news Theros, your leave got canceled, and I am the biggest success in our family now! Bye!”
He was out the door before the only reply—“Why!”—even finished echoing.
He resisted the urge to run.
He’d never been chosen for something this big. He’d craved a moment to shine, and now he had it.
Music?
He slowed at the edge of craftsmen’s row, it was covered in tents and flowers. He’d forgotten today was the damned Sowing Festival. It seemed like a fun event, and he’d even promised to take the wife there later.
Hopefully there would be time for that, how long could a haircut take?
He threaded through a crowd of giggling drunks, all decked in bright white garb; unmarried, tipsy, and looking. A half-dozen musicians on a small round stage in the centre played a frantic dance beat. He finally got past the crowd, and quickly cut through to the barber.
He found a slate on the door: “Closed for Festival.”
“Oh hell no,” he panted.
A sloppy chalk mark wasn’t going to stop the future mightiest warrior alive. He rubbed his temples.
Doesn’t have to be good. Just has to be gone.
The missus can do it; I’ll buy her a kit.
Vendors were everywhere. He pushed through the perfumed crowd, flower arches, and dancing couples, until he reached the smith’s booth. It was mostly empty, other than two ladies looking at pocketknives to give to their paramours.
Eowin found the shaving kits, picked the fanciest one, and paid the youth behind the counter.
This handful of steel cost fifty glindi, more than I made in a season cutting trees on the mainland! Still cheaper than this quality of steel would be anywhere else! Thank the Light we get paid like lords! Well probably not the Light, all things considered. Thank the Mage?
He shrugged and pressed his way through the dancing and alluring scents of roast lamb and fresh flowers battling for dominance all the way home.
“It’s a zoo out there! Exciting news dear–”
His wife glowered at him. It was several hours before he normally came home, and she was pruning the front garden, holding shears.
“What kind of zoo? The sort that puts flowers in your hair? Is this your idea of a joke? I’m four months pregnant, and you skip work to dance with unmarried girls!” She waved the shears a lot more than he liked.
He brushed the side of his head, and to his surprise, several small pink blossoms tumbled out. Even more petals came out when he used both hands.
“You slimy lizard! My ma was right about you! Sneakin’ away on me! I don’t know why I’d trust you.”
Her rant continued and he bit his lip. He held the sharpest razor he’d ever owned in the leather case. Taking off his clothes and passing it to his very angry wife seemed risky.
I might be a coward, but a coward that will live, and remain intact, for another day
“The real reason I’m here,” he said quickly, “is to give you money. For the festival. I just passed through, and it was magical.”
Her rant faltered. She looked at the money he held out. “A hundred glindi?”
“I’ll be working late tonight. Probably past the festival. I didn’t want you to miss out. Buy yourself something nice!”
She blinked, then kissed his cheek. “Ah, I shouldn’t’ve yelled. You spoil me.”
Eowin nodded, gently backed away, and disappeared into the street.
Think! Who can help with this? Oh! Taritha has every potion and salve! I bet she has something for this! But she’s at the academy setting up. It was on the watch roster. That’s clear across town!
He saw an elderly member of the Town Watch, relegated to directing traffic and finding lost dogs now that the Civic Guard existed. He flagged him down.
“Whoa! I need your horse! Urgent Mageguard business!” he shouted.
“Whaa?” the oldster replied.
“Defense related, every moment counts!” Eowin gestured for him to dismount.
“Are we under attack?” He slowly got off.
“No, just a defense readiness issue, no cause for alarm! I’ll return it as soon as I can, h-yah!”
He dashed through crowded streets at an awkward trot, weaving around festival-goers and children chasing kites. Outside town, the road cleared, and he made better time.
The Academy site was huge and sprawling, and a handful of golems were digging the foundation. For now there was a single cluster of stone buildings in front of a huge field of torn up dirt. He stopped and stared at the mighty steel and titanium golems: their strength, their size, their majesty.
“Soon, you will call me big brother, and I shall wear the mightiest golem of all. As armour!” he whispered intensely to the distant automatons.
He tethered the horse and went in, past a dozen builders consulting plans, past the crates and unassembled furniture, poking his head into each room as he went.
“Ah! Miss Taritha! I’m glad to find you! I have an urgent problem that I need your help with!”
She stood next to a distinguished gentleman in a suit, both poring over a huge book. “I’…
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