Chapter 1199: Returning Home in Autumn
The investigation into the remnants of the all-consuming force lurking in the wasteland had hit a dead end. Yet this didn’t mean the great empires beyond the Grant Wall would halt their counteroffensive against the blighted lands. On the contrary, the complete lack of clarity inside the Wall only intensified their pressure, making it all the more urgent to push their forces deeper into the wasteland—even if it was just to establish an initial forward base.
Thus, the mortal nations launched their campaign to reclaim the wasteland.
In the southern continent, the Silver Empire had already joined forces with the Gaoling Kingdom to form a massive patrol corps. Together with the Guardian Great Trees, they advanced northward along the border forests, steadily shrinking the polluted zones outside the Grant Wall. Meanwhile, in the north and northeast, Typhon and Cecil had mobilized vast manpower and resources to build several railways cutting through the contaminated lands. These “iron arteries” would serve as leverage points to pry open the wasteland’s stubborn pollution barriers.
Architect Gordon stood atop the watchtower of the South Gate Fortress’s outer wall, his gaze fixed on the distant edge of the Black Forest. Deep within the woods, faint outlines of man-made structures peeked out from between the towering, twisted trees. Their metal and crystalline spires glittered in the sunlight like jewels embedded in the forest, linking one after another in a line that pointed toward the Grant Wall.
These were the outposts set within the Black Forest—watch stations crowned with arcane broadcast towers and shield generators.
For years, many had believed the Black Forest to be a dead zone, a place where life had withered away. The nations had long hesitated to breach its borders, deterred by the high costs, immense risks, and scant rewards of confronting the forest’s corruption. Only two countries were exceptions: the Typhon Empire, which maintained a vigilant western wasteland buffer, and the Cecil Empire, which had always regarded reclaiming the wasteland as a paramount goal. In fact, Cecil had taken even bolder steps than Typhon in this regard.
Long before the founding of the Cecil Empire, during the Ansu era, the allied nations had once repaired and reinforced the Grant Wall. During that campaign, Cecil had forcibly carved a path through the Black Forest using heavy flamers and armored units, creating a direct route into the wasteland. That “temporary passage” was never abandoned; instead, it was maintained and gradually expanded. Following orders from the imperial capital, the construction corps stationed at the southern foothills of the Dark Mountains widened the South Gate Fortress’s control zone along this route, building a series of outposts and supply nodes that stretched southward all the way to the Sentinel Tower’s base.
Today, after years of effort, this long-term project was finally about to bear fruit.
The “Sentinel Road” through the Black Forest would become the foundation for the advance into the wasteland. Energy stations, barracks, and supply depots along the way would provide vital support for the engineering teams to come. A state-of-the-art charged railway would run from the South Gate Fortress, cutting through the Black Forest and the strip of plains around the Sentinel Tower, all the way to the foot of the Grant Wall. From there, the empire’s iron fortresses and legions would travel along this steel artery into the ancient realm of Gondor, where humanity’s first forward base for the wasteland counterattack would be established.
Footsteps approached from beside him. Gordon turned away from the Black Forest and saw a stocky, muscular colleague clad in a thick black coat striding toward him.
It was Bruce Rock, a master craftsman of dwarf descent who had been promoted to Grant Architect two years prior. Bruce had been among the first “Hundred Aid Builders” sent to the southern lands during the Cecil era. His engineering team had shone brilliantly during the Grant Wall’s restoration—one of the key reasons for his promotion. Now, as the counteroffensive began, this expert in “pollution zone construction” was set to become one of the engineering department’s main leaders. Undoubtedly, it was a great honor.
“Hey, Gordon,” Bruce called out, raising a hand in greeting, his voice booming like thunder rolling through the mountains. “Have you seen the first engineering battalion gathering in the square? Those earth-element resonance rails, the giant lifting mechanisms, and the shiny mechanical pods! I’m telling you, I love this new mission. The empire’s most advanced engineering machines are all here!”
“I’ve seen them, of course I have,” Gordon shrugged. “I’ve been watching all morning. And we’ll be watching for a long time yet—building a railway into the wasteland isn’t a simple task.”
“We already have a road through the Black Forest,” Bruce said, coming to stand beside him, his face flushed with excitement. “With those stations along the way, all the preliminary surveys and logistics will be much easier. I bet Typhon’s progress is slower—they’re building a railway from Winterwolf Fortress, but they haven’t constructed nearly as many supply and energy stations in the forest. Plus, after that battle at Winterfort, they don’t have nearly as many engineering mages…”
“According to my intel, they’ve already sent twelve thousand engineering mages into the Black Forest, Bruce,” Gordon said, glancing at his loud colleague. “And another eight thousand are on the way.”
Bruce’s flushed face stiffened. After a moment of stunned silence in the cold wind, the dwarf-born architect muttered, “Damn the rich… damn their money power…”
“Look on the bright side,” Gordon said calmly. “Given the current situation, it’s good for us that Typhon is putting so much effort into this. The counterattack isn’t a one-nation affair. The more reinforcements we have once the vanguard reaches the Grant Wall, the safer our soldiers and engineers will be.”
Bruce rubbed his nose. “…Hell, you’re right.”
Gordon cracked a smile and looked toward the gate below, where engineering vehicles were already rolling out. “More than worrying about these complicated ‘political situations,’ I’ve been thinking about a joke I keep seeing on the Cecil anonymous neural network lately…”
Bruce rubbed his reddened nose again. “What joke?”
“That what we’re living through today might one day be ‘memorized in full’ by students in history textbooks,” Gordon laughed heartily. “Look at those convoys below, then think about the project proposal you submitted a few days ago—especially that huge preface you wrote. I’m pretty sure future history books will have a whole page about you. Honestly, you should’ve kept it shorter.”
“Whatever,” Bruce muttered. “It’s not like I’m the one who has to memorize it.”
Gordon shrugged, ignoring his colleague’s grumbling. Bruce, growing bored in the increasingly chilly autumn wind, craned his neck toward the Black Forest. His gaze swept over the dense, twisted plants before shifting to a patch of relatively untouched “unpolluted” greenery near the fortress. Suddenly, a particularly lush cluster of trees caught his eye, and he blinked in surprise.
“Hey, Gordon,” he nudged his companion’s elbow. “That patch of woods didn’t look this thick a few days ago. How did it suddenly grow so fast?”
“Is it that noticeable?” Gordon glanced over, unconcerned. “It’s just a patch of trees outside the Black Forest’s polluted zone. We sent people to check it before—those are just ordinary plants, not the corrupted, magic-infused, poisonous growths inside the Black Forest.”
He paused, thoughtful. “Though the growth is indeed rapid… probably influenced somewhat by the Black Forest. After all, this is the edge of the pollution zone. Most flora and fauna here are a bit strange. The Dark Mountains are full of twisted, mutated creatures.”
“Could be…”
The autumn wind swept through the freshly cleaned streets, fluttering the decorative banners hanging outside the shops. Pea carried two books freshly borrowed from the library as she walked down the broad avenue known as Knight Street. When a sudden gust blew past, she instinctively squinted and looked across the street.
Though it was already autumn, the roadside trees lining this district were special varieties cultivated by druids. Growing in the empire’s southern lands, they were hardy enough to withstand the cold like their northern cousins. As the autumn breeze passed, a few leaves drifted down, but the overall greenery remained lush. If anything, since the temperature dropped, the plants here seemed even more vibrant than in midsummer.
Pea blinked, but not being an expert in botany, she quickly dismissed the oddity. Instead, the steadily cooling weather reminded her of something:
Her father had been away on a mission to the north for a long time. He hadn’t returned for this year’s Renewal Festival, nor last year’s Harvest or Anling Festivals. Now that summer had passed into autumn… by her calculations, he should be coming back soon.
A pang of longing stirred in her heart. The artificial neural cord attached to the back of her head twitched slightly with the shift in her emotions. Just then, a sudden roar and rushing wind came from above, making her look up in surprise.
A massive, majestic figure tore across the sky, flying swiftly over the northern city district. Bathed in the golden sunlight, its outstretched wings shimmered with metallic gleam. The intimidating steel-and-mechanical frame covered its fiery, scale-covered body, limbs, and tail like something out of a bard’s legend. The image was etched vividly in Pea’s eyes.
“A dragon? A Dragonborn?” she murmured, watching the figure descend toward a nearby neighborhood. “Wasn’t that Dragonborn racing zone forcibly relocated outside the city by the Security Bureau recently? How come there’s one flying around downtown…?”
Questions swirled in her mind as she hurried toward the landing spot of the “Steel Dragon.” She wasn’t going to gawk at the spectacle—she was worried the reckless Dragonborn might cause trouble during landing, especially since it was close to her home.
…
After a series of thrilling sharp decelerations and daring “winged maneuvers,” the mighty red dragon finally gained control of her speed and altitude over the city. Her massive wings beat steadily, while the artificial rune system manipulated the magic and airflow around her, keeping her enormous body stable. Then, aided by the anti-gravity system, Asalina executed a sleek, graceful “short-distance angled descent,” completing the final step of her landing. With a thunderous impact that shook the entire square, her talons dug firmly into the open ground.
The dragonborn lady, her scales blazing like fire, seemed to gather herself for a moment before shaking her huge head from side to side. “Honestly, landing the normal way still feels a bit weird…”
No sooner had she spoken than a figure wobbled out from over her shoulder. Byron clutched his head, his voice strained with pain but still loud enough to shout, “Did you seriously plan to shift into human form and jump down when you were still dozens of meters above the ground?! I saw the very start of your transformation!”
“I only remembered you were still on my back at the last second,” Asalina called back without turning, lowering one wing to form a sloping ramp to the ground. “And what do you mean ‘the start of the transformation’? Can you really tell when I’m about to shift just from my flying posture?”
Byron pressed his hand harder against his head but kept his voice booming. “How could I not tell? You’ve crashed onto my deck so many times over the past month, even the guy who scrubs the deck can tell when you’re about to jump from the sky…”
“Cut the crap,” Asalina flicked her wings and tail. “Get down quickly. My wings have been working nonstop all the way here. Holding on like this is exhausting.”
“What’s there to be tired about? Most of the effort comes from those machines on you. You think I don’t know the latest model of Steel Wings has a ‘cruise control’ function?” Byron muttered, then waved his hand weakly. “Wait a moment, let me catch my breath… This trip’s been rough, especially that last landing… My stomach’s feeling pretty awful right now…”
“Huh?!” Asalina’s whole back trembled. “Then you better get down fast! Don’t you dare throw up on me! Damn it, why didn’t you say you’re this scared of heights before we left?! And I swear you weren’t like this back in the day!”
“I’m not scared of heights. I just don’t like flying…” Byron groaned. “Stop shaking, Asalina, please! If you keep moving, I’m gonna… I can’t hold it… I really… ugh…”
A series of gut-wrenching retching sounds filled the air, and the entire square fell into a heavy silence.
After a few seconds, a furious roar shattered the quiet, echoing across half the block—
“Byron!! I’m going to kill you!!!”
(End of chapter)