Chapter 1372: The Beginning of the Counter-Inference

Gawain and Amber carefully examined every detail of the battlefield report sent back from the southern front. They reached a unanimous conclusion: the sirens, that strange and uncanny race, were indeed quite formidable…

But beyond this unsettling realization, the precious intelligence also brought Gawain many important insights.

“…Byron and General Vanessa’s choice of a ‘coordinated tactic’ was crude and straightforward, but in hindsight, it was the most suitable approach,” Gawain said, pausing the holographic projection on the final overhead shot of the battlefield. He turned to Amber beside him. “The sirens fight in a way that’s completely different from ours. There’s almost no chance for our soldiers to stand shoulder to shoulder with theirs on the same battlefield—one side lays down overwhelming firepower, while the other staggers their entry. It’s surprisingly effective.”

Amber couldn’t help but sigh, “The sirens are really tough… honestly, way tougher than I expected. When I usually deal with Tyr, I never got that impression—I just thought she was a bit of a clown.”

“A clown and a fighter aren’t mutually exclusive. Besides, you can’t even beat Tyr, so don’t pretend you can take on the sirens,” Gawain waved his hand dismissively. “From what we see now, the situation on the southern front is under control. General Vanessa’s troops are limited in number, but whenever they enter the fray, they can secure a sector’s victory. That’s exactly what the southern front desperately needs.”

“If only that expeditionary force could just push straight through the wasteland,” Amber mused, her thoughts wandering. “If they could break through north to south in one go, things would be so much easier…”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Gawain shot her a glance. “General Vanessa brought fewer than ten thousand soldiers. No matter how tough the sirens are, how many of them can those few thousand cover? The aberrants are mindless, but their priests aren’t stupid. Once they realize they can’t win head-on, they won’t waste time fighting us directly. The wasteland has no cities or industrial centers to protect, so there’s no fear of a ‘breakthrough.’ Plus, the aberrants can regenerate endlessly. Unless we build the containment walls, even if the sirens go in and out of the wasteland seven times over, it’s just meaningless attrition.”

“…Sigh. On one side, they’re unkillable; on the other, they’re unstoppable. War can really come down to this,” Amber tugged at her ears nervously, muttering to herself. “But at least we have the siren reinforcements. They don’t fear attrition against the aberrants. The Silver Empire’s precious millennia-old legions won’t be overwhelmed by those monsters’ human-wave tactics anymore—they can focus on protecting the containment walls.”

“Exactly. Not only can the southern containment walls be built faster, but with the aberrants in the Augray region further weakened, Rebecca and Duke Bertram can also start their own containment projects,” Gawain said, stroking his chin as his expression grew serious. “Next… I wonder how things are progressing with Kamail’s side…”

…

Deep within the dark, chaotic ocean, the radiant light of the distant divine realms gradually faded into gloom. Countless enormous, bizarrely shaped shadows and masses drifted into view as the faint glow dimmed. These colossal shadows were the echoes of long-extinct entities, cast as projections in the deepest layers of this world’s “backside”—the memories recorded on the reverse side of reality. They floated and spun silently, passing by the cruiser without a sound. Occasionally, parts of these shadows brushed against the cruiser’s heavy shields, only to pass through like two unrelated dreams, leaving no trace.

On the deck, white-armored knights busied themselves alongside lightly armored warrior priestesses. Scholars clad in the royal mage robes of Typhon moved between the ship’s massive structures. Kamail hovered less than half a meter above the deck. As he crossed an open area, he noticed two white knights carefully carrying a half-human-height cylindrical container beneath what looked like a pipeline connection. They secured it meticulously with locks and ties, inserting devices into the container’s recessed grooves.

Beside Kamail, Windsor Mapple, dressed in a deep purple star-patterned mage robe, glanced up at the “sky.” A huge, impossibly shaped chaotic mass spun slowly past the shield’s exterior. Its structure was so strange that just looking at it made her dizzy. The legendary mage from Typhon shook her head and muttered, “These things seriously disrupt our thinking… and we still haven’t figured out how to study them properly.”

“His Majesty believes these shadows are ‘erroneous projections from the world’s backside,’” Kamail said casually, his voice humming with vibration. “According to clues from several senior advisors, these projections have existed since ancient times. They likely have persisted alongside our world’s birth… I’m trying to build a model where the upper order of our world constantly cycles through phases, and those things that perish during these cycles shatter and fall into the ‘deep sea,’ eventually becoming these shadows.”

“…That sounds like it could connect with the ‘Unified Fluctuation Theory’…” Windsor Mapple pondered. “Early fluctuations at the world’s birth spread through the cosmos, extending into deeper ‘layers.’ During this spread, distortions and iterations occur, producing phenomena that we ‘surface dwellers’ can’t comprehend—things that can drive us mad just by looking at them…”

“Theoretically, yes, that could be an explanation,” Kamail said slowly, tinged with awe. “Our theoretical progress has far outpaced our understanding of the physical world. On the level of computation and logic, this world is becoming increasingly bizarre. In this era, with deep thought, we can reinterpret the universe from entirely new perspectives at any moment—countless new theories are proposed, countless hypotheses await confirmation, countless debates, verifications, refutations, and discussions… Lady Windsor, did you ever imagine witnessing such a scene in your lifetime?”

“Never,” Windsor Mapple smiled faintly, shaking her head. “Just a few years ago, the world seemed clear and comprehensible to me. Back then, many renowned scholars believed we had reached the limits of human understanding. We thought we had grasped most of the theories that could be understood, and the unexplained was either hidden between the paths we’d already explored or was simply the rightful domain of the gods. Then… we discovered the deep sea, the legacy of the voyagers, the nature of magical fluctuations, the fact that gods die when killed, and… that unified fluctuation model that nearly caused a brawl among the old scholars and mages in the royal council.”

“You almost came to blows?” Kamail was surprised. “Sounds like that theory caused more upheaval in Typhon than in Cecil…”

“Typhon is an old magical powerhouse—that means we have many deeply rooted, stubborn academic schools,” Windsor Mapple said calmly. “Our traditional spell systems are embedded in society. Generation after generation of mages and chroniclers have been trained within this mature framework. It gave Typhon great strength for many years, but when radical change comes, those sturdy walls become unbreakable fences. Many respected scholars were crushed in the process, some even never recovered—including many I deeply admired.”

She sighed softly, her gaze drifting toward the dark chaos above. A faint glow seemed to emerge from the darkness—that should be the divine realm of the god of commerce, the cruiser’s “next destination.”

In that glance, Windsor seemed to connect the chaotic confusion of Typhon’s traditional scholars facing the unified fluctuation model with the radiant gods beneath the domes of the divine realms—on those brilliant thrones, figures also teetered precariously before the tides of change. In a way, the fates of mortals and gods seemed not so different.

But soon she shook her head. “Regardless, I still believe this is the best of times—to witness such monumental progress in one’s lifetime, to see mortals stepping into such vast unknowns. For a mage, that’s a great fortune. Many of us may never reach the end of any of these new frontiers, but walking the path of discovery is far better than sitting among dusty old tomes dreaming we know everything.”

“Yes, it truly is a good era. In recorded mortal history, we’ve never been this close to the world’s true nature,” Kamail said softly, his gaze lingering on Windsor. “So we must protect this era—our civilization is just leaving its cradle. We can’t let it perish now.”

Windsor nodded slightly, watching several more Typhon scholars in mage robes approach, carrying another half-human-height cylinder with their psionic hands, heading toward a nearby passage into the ship’s interior.

“…Do you really think these things will work?” she asked. “What exactly is inside?”

“It’s ‘poison,’ but I can’t tell you more,” Kamail shook his head. “In fact, I don’t know the full plan myself—its key parts are held by His Majesty, who said it’s the last resort if things become irreversible. Beyond that, he hasn’t told me anything.”

“…Sounds like some things are better left unknown. Don’t worry, I understand,” Windsor said knowingly. Then her expression grew complex as she looked down at the alloy deck stretching beneath her, the towering ship structures around, and the powerful ancient shield system overhead. She whispered, “It’s a strange feeling… Our exploration of this ship has almost proven pointless. It’s filled with things we can’t understand, grotesque twisted structures, and corrupted matter that should never have been brought into the real world. Now everyone knows what this ship really is—a demon that might try to destroy us all in the near future. Yet before that day comes, we’re all busy working on this demon…”

“Someone wants to ‘kill’ this demon, but with our current technology and equipment, even dismantling the ship’s outer shell could take a century. Most of us worry every day that the ship might suddenly ‘awaken’ and begin its terrible mission. That makes every strike we make here feel terrifying. We walk these long decks and towering domes daily, destroyers and the destroyed side by side, as if embracing a nightmare.”

Windsor sighed, seemingly unsure what else to say, then gave a self-deprecating smile. “Master Kamail, do you think the Sentinels know what we’re doing here?”

“I’m not one to be blindly optimistic,” Kamail said calmly, “so I believe that thing must still be connected to this ship in some way. But since it’s long detached from its home port, separated from us by an entire reality, it probably can only perceive things vaguely now. It can’t control the ship directly like it did in ancient times—otherwise, it would have wiped out all of us ‘uninvited guests’ by now. Of course, there’s a darker possibility: the sentinel knows everything, sees everything, but simply doesn’t care. To it, we insignificant mortals are nothing but insects. All our struggles are powerless to damage its mighty steel body.”

“If that’s really the case,” Windsor’s voice was low and steady, “then let it think that way. When the collapse comes, the ‘insects’ won’t care what a decaying shell is thinking.”

…

During these difficult times, King Odrys’s banquet for the guests wasn’t extravagant, but it was still hearty. Southern-style meats, pastries, and the Kaoling Kingdom’s famous berry wine left a strong impression on Byron. Outside the castle walls of Greta Fortress, the soldiers’ celebrations were underway—unlimited meat and just enough fine wine were brought out to reward the warriors who had endured the entire winter on this front. Between the barracks and the ramparts, bright lights would burn through the night.

The giant cannons of the Winter’s Chill pointed steadily toward the northern plains. Dragonborn scouts and dragonrider reconnaissance craft maintained vigilant watch in the sky. The damp northern air served as the sea witches’ extended senses. This once-fragile defensive line had now gained a temporary reprieve, and the soldiers inside Greta Fortress could finally afford a moment’s rest.

But for Byron, Asarena, and General Vanessa, their mission on this front was only just beginning.

“We’ve just received word from Empress Belsethia,” King Odrys said with a relaxed expression in the audience chamber, “the Star Temple Advance Base has endured two fierce attacks, but timely reinforcements from the Millennium Legion and the Solin Guard stationed nearby repelled the enemy. For now, that area is secure. The news of reinforcements has greatly boosted the morale of the elven warriors. They’re currently fortifying defenses and gathering supplies, ready to launch the next phase of military operations at any moment.”

“Sounds like the barrier wall is already under construction?” Byron asked. The plan for the barrier wall had been made after he left the northern port, but during his voyage, he had kept in contact with the mainland and learned the details. “I heard those mutated creatures attacking the Star Temple Advance Base were drawn there by the purification devices…”

“Yes,” Odrys said gravely, “it’s precisely because the silver elves have begun building the barrier wall that the attacks from those wasteland monsters have grown more intense each day. Their masters know full well that once a purification device is operational, the nearby wasteland forces will quickly collapse. After that, it will be nearly impossible to bring the base down with mutated creatures. So they’re desperately attacking every force that ventures into the wasteland to stop the elves from completing the advance base.”

General Vanessa, listening nearby, smiled slightly. “Well, it sounds like we have our work cut out for us…”

(End of chapter)