Chapter 1335: The Frontline Scientific Research Vessel
As raging flames tore through the forested mountains, the twisted, corrupted flesh burned to ash, and the taint that had spread alongside those malformed creatures was finally halted on this ancient land.
Over the past several days, relentless firepower from both ground forces and aerial units efficiently eradicated the aimlessly wandering mutants left leaderless. With the mass culling of these abominations, the wastelandification of the western Red Jade City area began to recede. On the third day since the arrival of the Dawn of the Mortal World, the infernos within the Red Jade Forest gradually died down—the cleanup and reclamation of the battlefield were underway.
Above the eastern Red Jade Forest, over Wolfspine Mountain, a massive airborne fortress known as the “Gorgon” hovered steadily in the biting wind. This was a forward research vessel under the Empire’s Arcane Technology Department. Its broad alloy chassis supported a complex structure crowned with spires and an astronomical platform—an architectural design strikingly different from conventional military installations. At this moment, the vessel’s main modules were running at full power. The extended wings on either side of the main building had opened energy release grids, emitting faint blue glimmers that drifted with the dawn breeze. Mysterious streams of light flowed along the arcane conduits between the building and the wing panels, illuminating numerous sensors atop the structure.
Against the still dim morning sky, the floating research vessel took on an almost breathtaking beauty, its ethereal glow lending it the appearance of a winged artificial deity hovering over the scarred Wolfspine Mountain. The streams of light spilled from its wings toward the earth and soared upward—these radiant displays were far from mere decoration.
This “scientific ship” was gathering critical data, monitoring the magical environment’s changes after the mutants’ retreat. The dreamlike light flows were the result of its primary detectors interacting with the chaotic magic lingering in the atmosphere. These data would soon prove vital for the Alliance’s counteroffensive to reclaim the wasteland.
Inside the forward research vessel’s control center, technicians analyzed incoming data from all directions. At the main console stood Marlin Leslie, the vessel’s chief technical officer, personally responsible for its design and construction. His gaze was fixed on the operational status of the ship he had overseen from blueprint to reality.
An assistant researcher’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Chief Strategist, the pollution dissipation monitoring data has just been compiled. Please review it.”
Marlin snapped out of his reverie and took the data booklet handed to him. The information, analyzed and printed directly by the ship’s central AI, was far clearer and more intuitive than any handwritten report. As his eyes scanned the figures, the slight furrow in his brow gradually eased.
“It looks like the wasteland contamination caused by the mutants is receding across the region… The dissipation curve roughly matches our earlier projections. At this rate, in less than a week, the surface area west of Wolfspine Mountain should be safe enough for personnel with minimal protective gear to enter.”
“Yes, the pollution is clearing quickly,” the assistant said cheerfully. “It seems that without mutant concentrations, the wasteland contamination can’t sustain itself in the natural environment for long. They haven’t occupied this land long enough to poison the soil and deep groundwater severely, and the intense heat from the fires has effectively neutralized much of the negative impact caused by the mutants.”
“If only the pollution in the Gondor Wasteland could dissipate so easily,” Marlin murmured, still studying the data. “Our frontline soldiers struggle just to find a sip of clean water out there…”
He shook his head and set the report aside, turning his attention back to the control console. The ship’s AI was now monitoring surface conditions, with live footage from external cameras projected holographically above the console. Marlin could clearly see the devastation wrought on Wolfspine Mountain by the war—most striking were the jagged craters and ruptures gouged into the mountainside.
These were massive “erosion” scars, as if some invisible force had sliced away parts of the mountain itself. The terrifying energy blasts had shattered the original rock layers, leaving only crystalline condensations flowing from the edges of the pits. Around these erosion zones, heavily armored ground explorers moved like ants, collecting firsthand data that remote sensing couldn’t capture.
These explorers were part of the vessel’s onboard contingent. In addition, low-flying single-seat reconnaissance drones and “Mage’s Eyes” remotely controlled by the mothership patrolled the nearby forest canopy. Together, they formed a vast, three-dimensional detection network—Marlin Leslie’s pride and one of his key assets in this operation.
Incidentally, another crucial asset was the ship’s armament: ten main cannons and twenty-six secondary guns. Under Princess Rebecca’s leadership, the Empire’s researchers were known for their martial spirit and love of all things explosive. Among the support units, their combat effectiveness was second only to the medics.
“Even seeing it firsthand, those erosion scars are astonishing,” Marlin Leslie whispered, eyes fixed on the mountain’s grim wounds. “The destructive power of the supercritical accelerator surpasses any conventional weapon I’ve known—arguably even more than the infernal incendiary bombs. Honestly, when I first followed Princess Rebecca, I admired her intelligence and inspiration, but I never imagined her brilliance could manifest as such… terrifying power.”
“I’ve heard some of the army’s shallow believers lost faith in the gods after witnessing the supercritical accelerator’s might,” the assistant researcher remarked with a hint of awe. “I suppose that’s an unintended side effect.”
“When the wonders of human ingenuity outstrip the limits of myth, the old legends naturally lose their luster,” Marlin said softly, shaking his head. “But that only affects the shallow believers. The devout always find a hundred reasons to attribute everything to divine power—they don’t care whether their gods approve or not. Enough about that. How long have the ground exploration teams been out?”
“Twelve hours so far, still within operational limits,” the assistant reported promptly. “With pollution receding, the action planning group is discussing whether to extend each ground mission’s duration…”
Marlin pondered briefly, then shook his head. “I don’t recommend that. We’ve already established a foothold here; there’s no need to risk personnel for marginal gains. Let’s stick to the rotation schedule. Once this wave returns, we’ll move on to the next monitoring point.”
“Understood, Chief Strategist.”
Marlin nodded, then glanced toward a nearby metallic platform protruding from the ground. The roughly triangular structure housed a transparent crystal container at its center, inside which a massive brain floated leisurely, poking at bubbles drifting in a biomass solution with its tentacles—its workload appeared light.
“Main AI, maintain vigilance over the surrounding area. Precharge the defensive turrets. We’ll move eastward to the next pollution zone in one hour.”
A synthetic female voice responded immediately from the control center. “Affirmative, Marlin. Enhancing threat detection. Fortress weapon systems are fully operational and ready to engage. Engine power at optimal levels…”
Hearing the AI’s voice, the young assistant researcher couldn’t help but steal a glance at the chief strategist. Honestly, setting the AI’s voice to a female tone was a bit odd. Even odder was how much effort Marlin had put into tweaking the AI’s language patterns. Rumor had it that when alone, he even chatted quietly with the ship—something unique in the entire aerospace fortress battle group. Most aboard suspected it was due to Marlin’s personal aesthetic preferences, but no one dared say so openly…
Still, the assistant occasionally found himself harboring slightly irreverent thoughts: humans shouldn’t do that… at least, they shouldn’t…
“Why are you staring at me?” Marlin finally noticed the lingering gaze and turned to his assistant, his thinning hair more pronounced than ever. “If you have questions, just ask.”
The assistant tensed, quickly banishing the thoughts that might double his workload. After a moment’s thought, he found a less awkward topic to divert the strategist’s attention.
“Well… Chief Strategist, I just suddenly thought… isn’t it a bit strange that a research facility like ours is equipped with dozens of arcane cannons and prismatic emitters?”
Before he could finish, a firm hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up, he met Marlin Leslie’s deep, knowing eyes and heard the wise words that followed:
“Young man, don’t limit your vision to the desk. As researchers, sometimes we need to ‘step outside.’ Look at us now—we’ve left the lab and come to the wasteland’s frontline. See these dangerous forests and dark wastelands? Though the monsters here seem wiped out, who knows what dangers lurk in the shadows? What if a few rogue mutants suddenly appear? That would be perilous…”
Marlin’s gaze rested on the assistant’s slightly bewildered face—a clear sign of youth and inexperience. His thick hair and lack of enthusiasm for big explosions marked him as someone who needed guidance. This was the responsibility of a seasoned Imperial researcher like himself.
“So, it’s perfectly reasonable for Imperial scholars like us to carry thirty-two fortress cannons on field expeditions…”
Assistant researcher: “…?”
The ground operations team leader looked up at the sky, spotting the majestic airborne research station silently hovering among the clouds. The morning light slanted from the horizon, casting a golden-red glow along the edges of the fortress’s chassis. The interplay of light and the magical currents in the air created a spectacular scene.
Though the Gorgon flight platform seemed unremarkable when operating alongside the Dawn of the Mortal World, on its own it was a magnificent airborne marvel.
After a moment, he lowered his gaze and refocused on the task at hand.
The heavy personal protective suit shielded the team leader from the biting north wind atop Longji Mountain. The suit’s defense system projected a double-layered shield that filtered and blocked the air’s hidden contaminants. Yet, despite such thick and reliable protection, the desolation and scars of pollution and war all around weighed heavily on the leader’s heart.
The soil and rock surfaces were coated with a sickening purple-black “substance.” Corruption had carved countless crisscrossing ravines into the mountainside. Animals had vanished entirely; between the cracks in the rocks lay piles of bleached bones. Plants existed only as twisted, mutated remnants. Suspicious, filthy biological fragments smeared like sludge clung to some of the wreckage. Scattered across the scorched earth were the shattered remains of orcish defensive fortifications—broken banners and weapons weathered and rotted beyond recognition, as if they had endured a thousand years of decay.
This was what happened after those loathsome monsters occupied a land. Though their stay was brief, the devastation and pollution they left behind were horrifyingly blatant. Had the Dawn of the Mortal World not arrived in time on the western front, this dreadful and tragic scene would have undoubtedly spread across all of Ogure, perhaps even engulfing the entire western continent.
A team member’s voice came from nearby: “Leader, the sun’s up. The magical energy readings in the environment are fluctuating more wildly. We probably only have time to take one last set of measurements.”
The team leader glanced toward the distant horizon, where the great sun’s majestic corona bathed the mountains in light—signaling that part of their data collection was nearing completion.
“I just received word from the aerial command center. We’ll return to the research vessel in an hour,” the leader nodded, his voice muffled beneath the heavy faceplate. “After gathering the data, we’ll do a thorough sweep of the area to see if we’ve missed any clues.”
The team member nodded and turned his gaze ahead—to a vast “corrosion” zone. A massive chunk of the mountainside had been gouged out by some immense energy, leaving a nearly perfect circular black crater. Residual heat still rose from the pit’s bottom, while the edges were encrusted with cooled, crystallized black matter—both awe-inspiring and terrifying to behold.
“This is Impact Site Seven,” the leader said gravely. “According to the battle reports, it was after the supercritical accelerator struck here that the mutant legion suddenly went out of control… Commander Jina and the military strategists suspect this was the monsters’ command node.”
“…Too bad nothing’s left,” the team member said with regret. “If only a few crippled Dark Priests had survived the blast, we’d have more research samples.”
“There will be some, eventually. Anyway—”
Before the leader could finish, a shout rang out from nearby, cutting him off.
“Leader! We think we’ve found something useful! Come quick and see what this is!”
(End of chapter)