Chapter 1351: Fading Away?
Within the cyberspace blanketed by a sea of white flowers, figures gradually departed the conference hall. As each silhouette around the round table vanished one by one, the space grew quiet until only two remained—Gawain and Beltira—standing together in the heart of the floral expanse. A gentle breeze stirred the blossoms as they gazed out toward the virtual sky and the distant horizon.
Beltira was the first to break the silence. “You seem burdened, Brother Gawain.”
Gawain’s voice was low and thoughtful. “I’m still pondering the Sentinel. After confirming that it conceals a deeper conspiracy, I have to consider what countermeasures it might take next, and what its ultimate method will be. As an ancient intelligence, the knowledge and cards it holds far exceed our understanding.”
Beltira spoke deliberately, “If our assumptions are correct, its ultimate goal is to use the power of the Deep Blue Network to transform this celestial body beneath our feet into a permanently uninhabitable planet. Everything my ‘wasteland brethren’ have done is merely part of that process. Now that we’ve successfully halted the aberrant legions from advancing on civilized worlds and uncovered their upcoming ‘deployment plan,’ theoretically, unless the Alliance’s battlefronts collapse entirely, the Sentinel’s ‘planet taming’ scheme is no longer feasible.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking,” Gawain said slowly, “If the Sentinel can’t fully control the Deep Blue Network, what ‘backup plan’ might it have to achieve its goal of permanent extinction? Although its node deployment isn’t complete, a large number of rune stones have already been embedded within the network. Astronomical observatories and magical monitoring stations have detected widespread magical anomalies. Tyr has confirmed that a violent disturbance in the Deep Blue Network severed the connection between the Loren Continent and Antavian. This means that even without full deployment, the Sentinel already partially controls the network’s operation…
“If one day it realizes its plan has failed, what will it do with the portion of the Deep Blue Network it controls? So far, it can’t launch direct attacks on the physical world through the network, but it can influence and interfere with the continent’s environment. Yet I believe… what it can do with the Deep Blue Network goes far beyond that.”
He paused, then turned to the calm-faced Beltira. “What about you? What’s your take?”
“I don’t know much about the Deep Blue Network, nor am I skilled at deductions like you,” Beltira replied, shaking her head, her voice heavy with sorrow. “I only feel pity and hatred for those former brethren of mine. We all once fell into darkness, but they not only sank into it—they’ve become tools under the Sentinel’s control without even realizing it. In Bertram, I see only an irredeemable future for them.”
Gawain remained silent for a moment, lost in thought. Then, suddenly, he said, “Perhaps I should make another trip to the Gate of the Covenant Fortress.”
“You mean back to the realm of the gods?” Beltira raised an eyebrow, then caught herself. “Wait, you mean the Sentinel’s mothership? Isn’t that place already…”
“Abandoned, yes, I know,” Gawain interrupted. “But what remains there unsettles me. The Inverse Tide completely corrupted the mothership’s core and the last cruiser. Yet those ancient systems still operate. To me, a relic that has endured through history, still running automatically but with a core system effectively out of control… that’s a huge risk.”
“You intend to destroy the mothership and the last cruiser?” Beltira frowned slightly. “But as far as I know, the technicians working on the ‘Gate’ project have repeatedly concluded that with our current technology, we can’t destroy such a massive relic of the Starborn. Even extracting a metal sample from the ship is extremely difficult. Master Kamail also suspects it still has some kind of ‘defense mechanism.’ If the mothership and cruiser pose a lethal threat, their remaining weapons could retaliate.”
“That’s true. We can’t destroy it now…” Gawain exhaled softly, voice low. “But we have to keep some contingency plans ready…”
Deep within the wastelands of Gondor, shrouded by dark, polluted clouds, the dark priests gathered on the hills and plains. At the center stood High Priest Borken, burning with rage over news of a recent defeat.
“That worthless Bertram! I should never have given him a second chance!” Borken’s furious curses echoed through the upper neural nodes, causing the high priests clustered around the hill to tremble in fear and silence. “I should have thrown him straight into the biomass melting pool. Even as nourishment for the root network, he’d be more valuable than he is now!”
Footsteps approached from the hill’s edge. Two tall figures in long gowns came before Borken. The elven sisters looked at the High Priest with surprise. Filna spoke first, “What’s happened, my honored High Priest? Your anger has even scared off those mindless aberrants. You haven’t lost your temper this badly in days.”
“Bertram suffered a second humiliating defeat,” Borken said, already accustomed to the sisters’ exaggerated tone. “I assigned him a large guard detail and even gave him partial control over the northern root network. Yet in one operation, he lost it all. That would be bad enough, but worst of all, he and his incompetent followers were captured alive by the enemy!”
“Captured alive?” Relna’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “How could that be? Bertram may lack military talent, but he’s a powerful priest. Even if the situation was dire, he shouldn’t have been taken alive by mortal troops. Besides…”
Relna hesitated, and Filna quickly added, “Besides, even if he was overwhelmed, couldn’t he have taken his own life at the last moment?”
“Who knows what happened?” Borken growled. “The last message from one of his followers said, ‘The enemy’s minds are too powerful; we were hopelessly outmatched.’ Such incoherent words reveal nothing.”
“The enemy’s minds are too powerful?” The elven twins were genuinely baffled, exchanging wide-eyed looks. Relna frowned. “Sounds like those ‘worthy opponents’ from the north have cooked up some strange new trick beyond Bertram’s understanding. That’s… interesting.”
“Perhaps we have different definitions of ‘interesting,’” Borken’s murky eyes glanced at Relna. His voice was hoarse and low. “Our greatest loss isn’t Bertram or the troops he sacrificed—it’s the intelligence. Bertram knew our deployments and true plans. Now that he’s in enemy hands, the damage is incalculable.”
The twins spoke in unison, “It sounds like you don’t have much faith in Bertram’s loyalty or resilience?”
“No, I believe even someone as incompetent as Bertram won’t break easily under interrogation,” Borken said. “But there are too many ways in this world to extract information from a silent prisoner. We must prepare for the possibility that critical deployments have been compromised. All upcoming deployments will face relentless opposition from mortal nations. Even the convoys transporting rune stones may be targeted… Damn it, if it weren’t for setbacks on the southern front, we could have advanced much faster…”
“The southern front?” Relna frowned. “What’s happened there?”
Borken’s mood darkened further. “Those elves. Somehow, they’ve gained northern reinforcements—a powerful treant guardian legion has joined the front. We were close to breaking through their laughable border fortresses, but now our offensive has stalled. Worse, one of their main forces has pushed near the barrier breach…”
Filna looked surprised. “Treant guardians? Your mighty army was stopped by mere treants? Didn’t you confidently say at the war’s start that the combined power of all the ancient trees guarding the forest barrier couldn’t stop the legions?”
Borken’s branches trembled irritably. “Those treant guards back then weren’t clad in steel plates weighing over ten tons, nor did they wield those so-called ‘magical cannons.’”
“Oh, looks like those ‘worthy opponents’ from the north have been tinkering with new toys again,” Filna chuckled, a hint of delight in her voice. “War really is a catalyst for technological progress. See how quickly those mortal nations evolve under pressure!”
“Sometimes I really wonder if you two are even on my side,” Borken’s yellow-brown eyes fixed on the elven twins. “Don’t you understand the situation? Our advantage is slipping away bit by bit. Early victories aren’t enough to secure our foundation. Now the mortals have caught on. We’re being pushed back on all fronts. On some lines, they’re even launching full counterattacks. My dear ‘advisors,’ humans on the northern and eastern fronts have already begun building permanent bases on our territory! Don’t you feel any sense of crisis?”
“Oh, crisis, of course, High Priest. We stand with you; our goals are aligned,” Relna said, still smiling. “But crisis alone won’t change anything. And… the setbacks we face at the civilized border may not be as dire as you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have many alternative methods to activate the Deep Blue Network…”
In the heartland of the Ogure Tribal Nation, the orc capital Red Jade City stood as a military hub against the wasteland legions. The Dawn of the World, a sky fortress from the Cecil Empire, hovered above the city. Gorgon flying fortresses used it as a staging ground, launching daily sorties to reclaim lost lands, purge aberrants, and rebuild border defenses. With the approval of Chief Kamila, the imperial expeditionary force led by Duke Bertram Franklin established Red Jade City as their base and supply point. Reinforcements from various Ogure tribes also gathered here, rapidly transforming the city into a sprawling metropolis with its population and size multiplying several times over in a short span.
Once her wounds had mostly healed, Camilla left the Sky’s medical ship and returned to her city. The feeling of solid ground beneath her feet brought a rare sense of peace to the chieftain who ruled over forests and mountains. She climbed the towering walls of Red Jade City and, bracing against the cold wind of late winter turning to early spring, gazed toward the mountain barrier. Her feline-like eyes narrowed into slits under the sunlight.
In her view, the mountains still stood tall and proud. A massive aerial fortress was slowly crossing the distant ridge. At the foot of the mountains, the once-vast Red Jade forest lay in charred ruins. Along the edge of the devastated woods stretched rows of military camps, bustling makeshift markets, and flags of all colors fluttering in the breeze.
Every day, countless soldiers gathered here, while just as many were dispatched by the allied commander to the eastern front or other regions ravaged by mutants. Each day, scorched earth was reclaimed by the people of Ogure, and the border—once pushed back to the very foot of Red Jade City—crept steadily outward toward the wasteland’s edge.
Now, Duke Bald Franklin of the Cecil Empire commanded the entire western allied forces. The soldiers from Ogure’s various tribes all answered to this foreign commander’s orders, including Camilla herself—a precedent never before seen, yet no one along the western front voiced any complaints.
This was the power of the alliance, the very meaning of the “wartime system.”
A cold gust blew, causing one of Camilla’s pointed ears to twitch—only the one perched atop her head, while the other drooped limply at the side.
She thought for a moment and tried again, but still only one ear stood upright.
The chieftain sighed, a hint of melancholy in her breath.
Just then, footsteps approached nearby, accompanied by the lively voice of Wycliffe, king of the human tribes. “Still arguing with your own ears, huh?”
Camilla turned her head to glance at the tall human king. “The doctor said this ear will need a minor surgery. Once it’s done, it can stand up again.”
“Honestly, I think it looks fine like this—makes you seem a bit softer,” Wycliffe said casually, turning to look out over the distance as he rested his hands on the city wall. “See? You’re finally starting to care about your appearance. That’s better than just swinging your battle axe around all day.”
Camilla paid little mind to his words, instead focusing on his distinctive right arm—the mechanical structure beneath a shell of alloy and transparent crystal gleamed in the sunlight. The rugged, somewhat fierce design piqued the beast chieftain’s curiosity. “…Is it any good?”
“What… oh, you mean this?” Wycliffe caught on and shook his mechanical arm, the alloy fingers moving nimbly. “Not bad. Stronger than the original, with a bunch of cool new features. Only thing is, it still feels a bit strange sometimes… but otherwise, it’s great.”
“Looks pretty sharp,” Camilla mused, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “I’m almost tempted to chop off my own arm and get one like yours.”
“…Are you crazy?” he replied.
(End of chapter)