Chapter 1340: The Frontline Laboratory

Fendyr barely glanced at the mission briefing before quickly turning his attention back to the road ahead. The snowstorm seemed to have eased slightly, but the weather remained harsh. The hastily constructed hardened road stretched through the swirling snow toward a dim horizon. At the end of the road, faint shapes stood atop a small hill, illuminated by artificial lights—surely the destination of this journey.

A voice came from behind, belonging to one of the communications tech soldiers. “Sir, who in their right mind would set up a frontline lab out here? This place is practically on the line between us and the mutants…”

“Exactly why it’s called a frontline lab,” Fendyr replied without looking back. “I heard it’s for studying the wasteland environment and mutant traits. Naturally, it has to be as close to the wasteland as possible.”

The soldier sighed. “Well, whoever’s in charge of that lab’s gotta be brave. No ordinary person would stick around here. The orders even remind us to stay respectful and calm… I get the respect part—these scholars deserve it—but why the extra emphasis on staying calm?”

Fendyr was curious himself. Listening to his subordinate, he thought for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Who knows? This mission’s wrapped in mystery… Maybe the lab’s head has a strange reputation? After all, we already have a master craftsman who looks like a giant iron sphere and a grand mage who exists as an arcane spirit…”

“Strange appearance? Ugly, you think?”

“Ask me, ask who else? But definitely unusual-looking,” Fendyr said casually, brushing off the topic. He didn’t want to waste time on idle chatter and refocused on the road.

They were now deep inside the Gondor Wasteland. Before the massive breach in the Great Wall, this area was nothing but rotting ruins and endless gloom. But with the energy barrier gone, the environment changed drastically. Winds from outside brought rain and snow, and the volatile magical currents made the weather here even more unpredictable and extreme than elsewhere.

The Empire had managed to establish several forward bases and purification devices in the region. In a way, this wasteland had become the new frontier of civilization. But it was far from safe. The mutant hordes massed in the south continued their assault on the northern front, often sending small groups across the battlefield’s blockade. These mutants were usually swiftly eliminated, but not before posing a real threat to the engineers moving between frontline camps.

Fendyr’s thoughts returned to the “frontline laboratory”—a facility that had appeared only recently, constructed at an astonishing speed. Its location was puzzling. He understood the Empire’s need for a research outpost studying the wasteland, but such a post should be well protected, ideally inside a forward base. Yet the maps from command showed the lab completely isolated, far from any base or outpost, boldly positioned right on the “hotline” with no defenses. Fendyr didn’t want to question his superiors’ judgment, but he couldn’t quite grasp the reasoning.

Suddenly, the scenery outside the window shifted, snapping Fendyr out of his thoughts. It felt as if they had crossed an invisible boundary. The snow abruptly stopped at this line, creating a vast “calm zone.” At its center stood a small hill, enveloped in a faintly glowing “veil.” Countless arcane runes streamed like rain across the veil’s surface. Inside was the journey’s end.

It was a manor—a building that looked nothing like a research facility. The sight reminded Fendyr of the classical northern scholars’ favored country estates: stately gray walls, dark blue roofs, vines climbing the exterior, and narrow flowerbeds. If not for the Empire’s flag fluttering overhead and the emblem of the Imperial Arcane Technology Department hanging by the door, he might have thought they’d come to the wrong place. This lab’s style was worlds apart from the typical Empire installations he knew.

He quickly pushed the thought aside. The Empire’s upper echelons were full of eccentric characters, and architectural styles varied wildly. Compared to the tree on the Holy Spirit Plains or the priests of the Holy Light Church, a lab that looked like a private estate was at least within the realm of human understanding. What he couldn’t fathom was how they built such a manor so quickly—it didn’t look like it was assembled from prefabricated parts.

As these jumbled thoughts flashed through his mind, Fendyr kept his focus. He drove the vehicle up the hill’s slope, passing through the rune-covered veil. The moment the car crossed the veil, he felt something brush over him—perhaps a defensive or identification mechanism. He parked on the clearing before the manor and, with two soldiers who looked equally curious and astonished, approached the heavy black door.

He took a deep breath, feeling an inexplicable nervousness. Just as he reached to pull the rope marked “Visitor Bell,” a gentle, pleasant female voice called from inside, “Come right in. I’ve already seen you—the door’s unlocked.”

Fendyr and his men exchanged glances. He gently pushed the door open, and it swung silently inward.

Inside was a bright hall—but the strange architecture made him dizzy almost immediately.

He saw a spacious room carpeted in deep red, filled with countless dazzling experimental devices and alchemical apparatuses arranged neatly and operating on their own. Arcane spirit-like constructs flitted between platforms and shelves, copying data or controlling magical mechanisms.

At the far end, a tall spiral staircase wound upward to a floating platform. Above it, no ceiling was visible—only a vast, seemingly infinite space. Intersecting staircases, layered platforms, countless doors, and suspended bridges created a dizzying labyrinth.

At the highest point of this abyssal space, Fendyr glimpsed shifting, chaotic dark shapes. He didn’t know what they were, but he had a feeling that place transcended normal physical space, perhaps connecting to some distant, mysterious realm.

The building’s scale and structure were nothing like the modest manor seen from outside.

Fendyr gasped sharply, shaking off the dizziness. He looked at the two tech soldiers he’d brought along and saw the same shock and confusion mirrored in their eyes. Soon, rhythmic footsteps echoed nearby, carrying a subtle magical aura that calmed Fendyr’s pounding heart. The pleasant female voice came from behind him: “You’re here to help with the network, right? Wonderful—I’ve been waiting a long time… Sorry, it’s a bit messy in here right now.”

Fendyr turned toward the voice. His recently relaxed expression stiffened. A tall figure stood before him, forcing him to look up to see her face clearly.

A mysterious and beautiful woman, dressed in an elaborate black court gown, wearing silk gloves and delicate purple hair ornaments—at least two meters tall.

“You must be Fendyr? I’ve read your file,” the towering woman said, her voice from above reminding Fendyr of the way his aunt and mother spoke when he was a child. “I’m the head of this facility. You can call me Miss Mina or Lady Mina—I prefer the former. Would you like some hot tea? The weather outside is brutal; warm up a bit.”

As she spoke, two arcane constructs floated over, carrying steaming tea and snacks. A small round table and several chairs drifted nearby and settled before them.

“Sorry, I just got things set up here. Many furnishings haven’t arrived yet,” Miss Mina said with a smile. “Have some tea and rest for a moment.”

Fendyr was about to insist on prioritizing the mission, but before he knew it, he was sitting down, a cup of tea in hand. He glanced at the extraordinarily tall woman and finally understood the briefing’s repeated warning to “stay calm.”

But commenting on a lady’s appearance at first meeting wasn’t gentlemanly. Though Fendyr was usually straightforward, he quickly averted his gaze and looked around for a safer topic.

“Mina… Miss Mina, is it just you here?” he asked cautiously, opting for the respectful title. After all, even ignoring her scholarly status, her imposing height demanded a formal address.

Miss Mina seemed unbothered by the formality, smiling as she replied, “Yes, it’s just me—and the assistants I summon. I prefer working alone.”

The frontline lab really was staffed by only this one woman?!

Though he had suspected as much, Fendyr’s eyes widened in surprise. He quickly suppressed his reaction, reminding himself that she was likely a powerful legendary figure. The fact she could create such an incredible magical lab spoke volumes. Such legendary individuals were often eccentric—some preferred solitude in dangerous places, others created highly intelligent magical companions, some even froze their nephews and tossed them off castles… Compared to that, working alone was hardly strange.

Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t it dangerous? Setting up a lab here all by yourself…”

“I’m fairly skilled in combat,” Miss Mina laughed, lightly flexing her fist as if to demonstrate her strength. “And being alone makes it easier to evacuate quickly if things go south.”

“Uh… alright,” Fendyr nodded, then steeling himself under the watchful gaze of the tall woman, he finished his tea and stood up. “Thank you for your hospitality. Let’s get down to business—where would you like the arcane network terminal installed?”

“I’ll show you,” she replied.

Fendyr and his two companions immediately set to work. Following Miss Mina’s directions, they prepared to install a military-grade arcane network terminal beside the magical focal point at the center of the hall. Once they began, Mylmina quietly left the room. She ascended a slanting staircase at the far end of the hall, passed through a corridor that appeared almost at a right angle, and arrived at a special chamber whose entrance was completely hidden from the hall’s vantage point.

The room was semicircular, but instead of ordinary windows along the curved wall, it was embedded with a series of enormous, irregular crystals. These crystals glowed faintly with a hazy light, each containing shifting shadows and shapes that defied clear perception.

Mylmina approached one of the largest crystals. The misty glow inside suddenly sharpened, the illusions of clouds and wind dissipating to reveal a scene deep within the wasteland.

“Begin recording observation log,” she said casually to the air. Instantly, an arcane servant holding a recording tablet materialized beside her.

“Chaos… endless chaos it seems… but in truth, this should be a patterned ‘tremor’…” Mylmina murmured to herself. Her fingers lightly brushed the crystal’s surface, and the wasteland scene within began to shift. A translucent filter of countless shimmering colors spread over the image, the hues floating in the air as they traced the flow and transformation of magical energies. Between these shifting lights, numerous vortices of varying sizes appeared and vanished.

It was as if an ocean of chaos, invisible to ordinary eyes, drifted over the ancient lands of Gondor.

“If the essence of the Gondorian wasteland is truly a chaotic, yet complete and unified ‘field,’ then every detail observed within it should help describe the mathematical model of the whole field…

“Frontline laboratory, first observation log, window one, time—”

As Mylmina spoke softly, the arcane servant rapidly inscribed words and symbols onto the tablet.

For seven centuries, the buried truths of this mysterious wasteland were finally beginning to be unveiled, piece by piece, before reason and logic.

(End of chapter)