Chapter 1015: The Frontline
Setting aside how much “aesthetic sense” a druid who’s spent centuries studying biochemical technology within a dark cult could still possess, there was one thing Selina Gelph had to admit: the “brain” before her was by far the most astonishing and remarkable piece of biochemical engineering she had ever seen in her life.
At first glance, it looked like a solitary brain, but in truth, it was almost a fully independent organism. It had its own energy cycle and specialized organs hidden deep within its bulky, grotesque “body” that allowed it to float and move short distances. Its writhing “tentacles” weren’t just neural tendrils for connecting with the towering Sorlin trees—or other “interaction targets”—but could, if necessary, function as some kind of predatory appendage…
This thing reminded her of certain creatures rumored to dwell in the Black Forest on the far side of the Dark Mountains—creatures that existed only in the superstitions of hunters and the drunken tales of bards. The darkest, most twisted, nightmare-like mutations.
Ordinary people living peaceful, mundane lives knew little of these terrifying beings, but dark cultists who had lived for centuries had at least some knowledge of these secrets beyond the bounds of civilization.
Selina turned to look into Beltira’s eyes. “Honestly, is the original biological sample for this brain… the Nightmare Skull from deep within the Black Forest?”
“I don’t remember… maybe. Or perhaps it’s from the Soul-Eater beasts near the Ancestor’s Peak?” Beltira pondered, a wry smile flickering across her stiff features. “I’ve lost count of how many things I’ve devoured and assimilated. Deep within my body lies a vast genetic library beyond mortal comprehension—human, elf, monster… no matter how horrific or twisted the creature, I can summon it at will. Aren’t you the same, Selina Gelph? How many fallen souls have you trapped inside your lantern?”
“I’ve already released them all,” Selina said after a brief silence, shaking her head. “Alright, back to the point—are you sure this brain is harmless?”
“You can rest assured on that,” Beltira replied calmly. “These things have undergone long iterations and evolution within my genetic sample vault. All uncontrollable elements have been pruned away like excess branches. What you see here is essentially a product of the Sorlin tree’s gestation. In a way, it’s no different from the Sorlin fruit you had for lunch today…”
She suddenly glanced up and down at Selina, who was still in a psychological projection state. “Oh, I forgot—you can’t eat right now.”
Selina didn’t seem to mind the small tease. After a moment’s silence, she simply nodded. “Alright, I trust your expertise on this. So, let’s talk about how exactly this… brain is supposed to be used.”
Beltira lifted her gaze to the giant floating brain hovering in the center of the plaza—or rather, the floating organism that resembled a brain. Her mind was still linked to it, and under her control, it rose slightly, revealing the neural structures beneath more clearly to everyone present.
“In short, I’ve adjusted its neural connections so its tendrils can link directly to the brainwave amplifiers used in immersion pods. Through these amplifiers as intermediaries, it can create a ‘brain domain’ within a radius of several hundred meters. Within this domain, psionic singers receive enhanced computational power and magical adaptability, and can connect directly to higher-level neural networks via brainwaves. This greatly reduces the mental strain they endure in combat. So obviously, we need to design a dedicated ‘carrier’ for this brain, mounting the brainwave amplifier, extra power units, and so on.”
Beltira paused, then continued, “Also, if possible, it’s best to have a biomass recycling system. Although the brain can operate independently for long periods without nutritional input and can even feed itself, the battlefield is unpredictable. Frontline units won’t always have the luxury of resupply, so providing nutrients directly through a biomass recycling device would be very efficient.
“As for the biochemical tech, I have ready-made plans. I just need the magitech engineers to help integrate them into the carrier. That should be straightforward.”
Wendy, standing nearby, interjected, “Do you already have a design in mind for the carrier?”
“Yes,” Beltira nodded, her gaze drifting toward Sorlin Fortress not far away. Several dragonrider aircraft skimmed low between the treetops and castle rooftops, their deep buzzing growing louder. “After careful consideration, I think the dragonrider chassis is perfect. Its cabin needs almost no modification—just removing the seats and a few partitions will create a container for the brain. Since the brain can directly control magical mechanisms, we can remove the corresponding control consoles and rune stacks inside the aircraft, leaving just enough space for the brainwave amplifier and related equipment…”
As she spoke, the former High Priestess of the End of All Things smiled faintly. Even her usually expressionless “avatar” radiated pride—clearly, she was very pleased with this plan.
Time was tight, and the mission urgent. The original step-by-step research plan had to be altered. To get the psionic singers into combat as soon as possible, she had to adapt existing technology. Over the past few days, she and the druids and magitech engineers had tested one alternative after another, then alternatives to those alternatives, and more besides. What she was proposing now was the culmination of all those efforts.
A product that could be “assembled” within days—maybe not perfect, but ready to be deployed immediately.
Selina, holding her lantern, listened intently. After Beltira finished, she nodded after a brief thought. “I trust you’ve already discussed this with the magitech engineers. We don’t know much about the aircraft, but the empire’s top experts on brainwave amplifiers and neural networks are here—we can start anytime.”
Beltira nodded, her gaze sweeping over the former Sleeper priests gathered at the plaza’s edge. Many faces were familiar; she had worked with these people many times over the years as a dark priestess. Now, remnants of two dark cults stood together in cooperation once more—even she, who had long since forsaken the gods, couldn’t help but marvel at fate’s strange twists.
“This brain is yours to borrow from now on. Bring out your neural networks and brainwave amplification tech. I’ll continue catalyzing the other brains in the chamber, aiming to have them operational within three days,” she said seriously, looking at Selina. “But even though I’m lending them to you, please handle them carefully. These brains are still useful—I plan to keep using them for research after the war…”
Beltira’s words made Selina, usually so composed, flash a strange expression. Her eyebrows twitched. “I thought making these brains would be easy… after all, you said they’re similar to Sorlin fruit.”
“No way—though they’re both products of the giant trees, brains are many times more complex than Sorlin fruit. Starting with their growth cycle…”
The topic veered oddly off course. Yuri, who had been quiet all along, finally muttered to Wendy, “Damn… I don’t think I can ever eat Sorlin fruit again…”
“Please stop, I already have images in my head…” Wendy groaned.
The towering Winterwolf Fortress loomed on the border of Typhon, but the banners flying above it were no longer the black and red sigils of Typhon. Blue flags fluttered in the cold wind, embroidered with golden threads depicting a sword and plowshare. This border stronghold had become the frontline command center of the Cecil Legion, and after emergency repairs and fortifications, it was now nearly impregnable.
On a clear, chilly day, Gawain arrived at this sturdy fortress on the front.
The dry, cold northern winds swept in from the plains, howling through the walls of Winterwolf Fortress. Scars from air raids and arson still marked the fortress—some outer city buildings remained in ruins, and the walls separating the outer and inner city were blackened by fire. But the castle district itself was intact and had been converted into Philip’s command center.
In an open corridor within the castle, Amber looked up at a nearby tower. She saw the blue and gold banner waving in the breeze and couldn’t help but sigh, “This is Winterwolf Fortress… and we took it just like that…”
Philip, clad in armor, stood beside her, smiling faintly. “The Typhon forces launched hundreds of counterattacks, trying to retake the fortress. But with the defenses completed and reinforcements arriving, their offensives have been completely broken. The frontline has even been pushed back to the Winterwolf defensive belt.”
Gawain approached the edge of the corridor, resting his hands on the railing as he stared toward Typhon’s controlled territory, his expression grave. “Any new developments on the Winterwolf front? Since the last air battle, have their priests or battle mages gathered or mobilized on a large scale?”
Amber blinked. “The last air battle was recent. Even Typhon shouldn’t be able to pull off another ‘miracle’ like that so soon, right?”
“No, you don’t understand Typhon,” Philip shook his head. “You only get a clear picture of their ‘supernatural corps’ when you face them directly. Though they were severely weakened last time, if necessary, they could still pull off several similar ‘miracles’ in a short period. But… they’ve been quiet lately. No large-scale activity from their priests, battle mages, or knight corps.”
Philip’s words didn’t ease Gawain’s tension; if anything, his expression grew more serious.
“Winterwolf Fortress has become a ‘land of war.’ Typhon’s ‘miracle magic’ was like lighting a fire in a tinderbox—once it starts, there’s no turning back or stopping…” he mused. “Their sudden silence now can only mean they’re preparing for an even larger, formal operation.”
“The last ‘miracle’ was some kind of experiment?” Amber considered. “Like testing the waters before the real thing—Rosetta gathered the data he wanted from that. Looks like he’s about to get serious.”
Gawain glanced at the half-elf and couldn’t help but nod slightly—maybe he usually came off as a bit brash and loud, but when it really mattered, this guy’s instincts were pretty reliable.
After a moment, he turned his attention back to his young army commander. “Philip, have you noticed any influence from the War God recently?”
“I’ve been vigilant about mental defenses,” Philip replied immediately. “We’ve also set up numerous arcane network terminals along the front lines to ensure all soldiers remain within the protective range of the ‘Barrier of Humanity.’ Thanks to these measures, neither I nor my troops have been tainted by the War God’s corruption. But one thing’s certain—the War God’s influence is everywhere, constantly trying to erode our mental defenses.”
Gawain’s expression grew serious. “Have you observed any specific phenomena?”
Philip’s tone turned grave. “Nariel detected traces of unknown ‘thought currents’ at the edges of the neural network. The arcane terminals in that area sometimes experience strange interference—manifesting as sudden prayers or majestic proclamations echoing out of nowhere. Additionally, soldiers who ventured too close to Typhon’s controlled zones, where their mental defenses were weakest, reported seeing hallucinations on the battlefield’s edge. These visions featured mysterious lights that seemed to lure them into worshiping the gods.”
Philip’s words carried weight.
“These incidents have put everyone on high alert. We’ve halted further advances into Typhon’s territory and now conduct daily activities to strengthen soldiers’ resolve and foster unit cohesion—group studies and recreational events at the squad and platoon levels. These measures have proven effective; at least we can quickly identify anyone whose behavior starts to deviate.”
Gawain nodded thoughtfully as he listened. Nearby, Amber shrank back slightly when Philip mentioned those “corruption phenomena.” A chill crept up the back of her neck, and she suddenly grasped more vividly the true nature of this battlefield.
This war wasn’t just between Typhon and Cecil on the surface—it was a three-way struggle, with the War God’s power lurking invisibly among them. That unseen force roamed this land like a restless spirit, seeping into every corner of the battlefield. It was relentless, always seeking to stir up greater chaos. And right here, in Winterwolf Fortress itself… the War God’s power was stirring, restless and eager.
The thought made her instinctively lift her gaze toward a nearby small balcony.
There, in the center, the sea witch Tyr was curled up in a perfect little ball, sound asleep without a care in the world.
As an expert in divine perception and a contingency contact for the sea witch clans, this visitor from the deep had accompanied Gawain to the Winterwolf front. Seeing her so peacefully asleep on the balcony, utterly unaware of the divine presence around them, Amber allowed herself a small sigh of relief.
Gawain noticed Amber’s movement and glanced toward the balcony as well. He saw Tyr sleeping soundly in the cold wind and, after a moment’s consideration, concluded she was probably frozen solid.
But that wasn’t a big deal—the sea witch lady always got frozen a few times each winter. A little warming up later would bring her back to life.
He turned back to Philip, ready to inquire further about recent developments on Typhon’s side. But just then, a messenger suddenly came running down the corridor from the other end, cutting off his words.
“Your Majesty! Commander!” The messenger hurried up to Gawain and Philip, saluted, and announced loudly, “Commander Solderin has returned!”
(End of chapter)