Chapter 1415: No More Stagnation
The moment he saw a group of Tiers marching neatly into the conference hall, High Lord Gawain immediately knew that this deep-sea slacker had once again pulled off some stunt worthy of attention. But he truly hadn’t expected her to manage something so spectacular at the Tarash Conference itself. He was left dumbfounded, his mind echoing with one thought: “No wonder they’re a race with 300% potential…”
As he was marveling inwardly, Rebecca suddenly whispered beside him, “So that’s what she meant the other day when she told me all the other countries sent big delegations…”
Gawain blinked. “Huh?”
“Wasn’t I the one who received her when she arrived?” Rebecca hurriedly explained. “We saw all the other nations’ delegations walking across the deck in groups, and Miss Tyr sighed to me about how many people they had. She said the Sea Witch Kingdom only sent one ambassador. I even told her to ask me for help if she ran into trouble…”
“…And then she just went and formed a whole team by herself? Just to look more impressive?” Gawain’s eye twitched as he watched Tyr take her seat, followed by six identical copies of her—each expressionless, eyes glazed over like fish out of water, eerily resembling corpse drivers. “Wait, can sea witches even do that kind of thing?”
“Yeah,” Rebecca said casually, sharing some chilling tidbits Gawain hadn’t heard before. “Last time I saw Miss Tyr climbing a crane at a construction site. She slipped and fell onto the steel net below, and suddenly seventy or eighty tiny versions of her, only palm-sized, spilled out from underneath. But those little Tiers all looked dazed and dumb…”
Gawain was speechless.
How could something so terrifying happening to sea witches come off so comical?
“Ancestor, what are you thinking about?” Rebecca noticed Gawain’s silence and asked softly.
Gawain’s face was expressionless. “I think now that the Sea Witches have officially joined the Alliance, all of us have a lot of work ahead—especially the propaganda department…”
Rebecca scratched her head, looking puzzled, “Oh…” Meanwhile, the other delegates in the hall had naturally noticed Tyr and her six shadow copies behind her. Surprised, curious, and speculative glances flickered across the room, but everyone maintained enough decorum to keep their eyes polite. Most were silently wondering what exactly this “team” behind the Sea Witch ambassador was all about. Since the Sea Witch race was already a mystery to the nations of Loren, the guesses quickly spiraled into all sorts of bizarre theories.
Within just thirty seconds, some delegates from distant countries were already speculating whether all Sea Witches looked identical. Miss Tyr, the deep-sea ambassador, had single-handedly shattered her race’s image in the eyes of Loren’s nations before the Tarash Conference even began. And that was only because she entered walking upright—otherwise, the damage could have been even worse.
But Tyr herself seemed completely oblivious to the shifting atmosphere in the hall. Or perhaps, after living among the eccentric Cecilians for so many years, she was simply used to the stunned reactions around her. As more and more eyes turned toward the “Deep Sea Kingdom” seat, the ambassador—temporarily appointed regional representative by her boss’s sudden command—just reached out and poked Chief Camilla, who sat nearest to her.
“Hey, can you do me a favor? If I accidentally fall asleep later, wake me up, okay?”
Camilla blinked. “…?”
The chief vaguely remembered that the last time she attended an Alliance meeting, the atmosphere wasn’t quite like this…
But this little episode didn’t disrupt the meeting’s progress. As all the delegates took their seats, the curved metal panels of the domed ceiling began to rise, covering the transparent, high-strength crystal glass and shutting out the bright sunlight. A more comfortable, artificial lighting illuminated the space. The change in lighting quieted the hall until the floor at the center slowly opened, and a large arcane network terminal rose up, projecting the Alliance emblem before all attendees. Gawain’s deep, steady voice broke the silence:
“I am pleased to see so many familiar faces here today, and I sincerely thank all our friends who have traveled far and wide to this desolate land to attend this ‘Post-War Conference.’
“As everyone knows, we have just survived a catastrophe that nearly ended the course of civilization itself. Before we savor the joy of victory or tend to the wounds of war, we must first ensure order and stability in the aftermath, safeguarding the interests of the Alliance as a whole and the peace and security of each member nation. This is the purpose of our meeting, and I believe we all share this consensus.
“Before we officially begin, I would like to introduce a new friend to the Alliance—the Sea Witches from the Deep Sea. As we know, during the Wasteland War, the Deep Sea Kingdom dispatched a powerful expeditionary force to the Loren continent. Our ability to sit here today as victors owes much to their valiant efforts. Even before that, the Sea Witch race had already demonstrated their civilization, strength, and goodwill to Loren.
“It is my honor to invite Miss Tyr, the plenipotentiary ambassador of the Deep Sea Kingdom, to speak next. At the same time, on behalf of one of the Alliance’s permanent members, I propose that the Sea Witch Kingdom be admitted as a new member state of the Alliance.”
Gawain was never one for flowery diplomatic language, so he got straight to the point and finished his opening remarks quickly, leaving the floor to Tyr. The reason he scheduled the Sea Witch ambassador’s speech so early wasn’t just to show respect to the “new ally”—he was mostly worried that if he didn’t let Tyr speak soon, the deep-sea slacker would fall asleep…
The meeting agenda had been agreed upon beforehand, so when it was her turn, Tyr showed no signs of nervousness or surprise. She simply smiled and stood up.
Until today, Gawain had worried whether this usually unreliable, sleepy fish could handle the role of ambassador. But as she rose with a smile, he realized all his concerns had been unnecessary.
She was Tyr. She came from an ancient and advanced civilization. Long before this current era of Loren’s civilization—or even many previous cycles—she and her kin had already been swimming in the distant deep sea, observing the world on land. Though lazy, sleepy, and eccentric, she knew exactly how to deal with the short-lived land races—she had plenty of experience.
“May the waves bless you, friends who live on dry land. I bring greetings from Her Majesty Petia, sovereign of the deep sea. The Sea Witches are pleased to have fought alongside the land races, though we still have much to learn about each other…”
Gentle waves lapped against the golden sands under the sun. The Antavian, a stranded starship, stood tall and majestic like a continuous cliff along the shoreline. Bathed in the giant sun’s radiance, the ship’s deck, armor, and ecological domes shimmered with a hazy, dreamlike glow. On the other side, the sea’s ripples broke the sunlight into scattered fragments, making the submerged parts of the Antavian seem to sink into a dazzling abyss of light.
The ruler of the deep sea, Queen Petia, had left her palace deep within the starship and the stranded Antavian itself. She now stood on a high platform near the golden beach, gazing at the vessel that had once carried countless Aeoi citizens fleeing the apocalypse. The ship’s hull stretched for hundreds of kilometers, gently embraced by the waves. She whispered softly, “…At least this view is truly beautiful.”
“After all, the seas of our homeland are only storms. For hundreds of years, we may not see sunlight or stars even once,” said Rosalia, the deep-sea attendant, standing beside Petia. “But this planet has many… complex landscapes.”
“Storms of the homeland… I wonder if they will ever cease,” Petia murmured, shaking her head. Then, as if casually mentioning it, she added, “By now, the meeting with Tyr should have already started, right?”
“Accounting for the time difference, yes. It’s happening right now,” Rosalia replied. “The nations on land are beginning discussions on how to handle the aftermath of the great war, as well as the topic of forming an alliance with the Deep Sea Kingdom. According to the agenda, Tyr should be the first to speak, but…”
“But what?” Petia glanced at the hesitant Rosalia.
“…I’m not sure Tyr’s personality is reliable,” Rosalia said, recalling some of her friend’s past ‘brilliant moments’ with a worried expression. “She is indeed an excellent tide master and has dealt with land races before, but her laziness and tendency to drop the ball at any moment don’t seem suited for such… ‘serious’ matters.”
“I happen to disagree,” Petia smiled. “We and the land races differ greatly in habits and temperament, and we don’t intend to change that. In a way, Tyr perfectly represents the ‘Sea Witch style.’ She will help the Alliance realize early on how different the deep-sea folk are from the land dwellers, and build communication on that basis. Besides, I don’t think Tyr is that ‘unreliable’… Rosalia, you should have more faith in your friend. Dealing with land races isn’t easy, but for Tyr, it’s hardly a challenge.”
“…Alright, your reasoning makes sense,” Rosalia nodded reluctantly, then glanced at her queen with some hesitation. “But… is this really a good idea? To establish such close ties again with a land civilization, to build large-scale official exchanges… forming a formal alliance with the nations of Loren and participating in the ‘Alliance affairs’ of this planet—that’s not the same as our previous technical exchanges with the Cecilians.”
Petia was silent for a few seconds, then spoke softly, her voice as gentle as distant waves. “I know what you’re worried about, Rosalia.”
“We have already said goodbye to too many ‘friends,’” Rosalia whispered. “Whether alliances based on interests, close allies, technical partners, or mutually recognized friends—we have dealt with the land races of this planet too many times… There were hopeful groups, those on the brink of final development, those culturally intertwined with the Deep Sea Kingdom, even those who exchanged blessings and collaborated with us just the day before… In the end, they all became relics in the Abyssal Archives and mere footnotes in the database.”
“Your Majesty, I recall that after the manned space exploration program of the Bakrom Republic failed years ago, you decided to cease deepening communication with the land-dwelling races of this planet. Even the friendliest and most promising groups were restricted to no higher than Level Two contact.”
“That was indeed my decision back then,” Petya said, turning her gaze calmly to Rosalia’s eyes. “But I’ve changed my mind.”
“Is it just because of the ‘variable’ the Cecilians introduced?”
“No,” Petya smiled slowly, her tone unhurried. “I suddenly remembered something. We sea witches… are a remarkably patient people.”
…
The sea witches are a remarkably patient people. Not all patience is rewarded, but enough of it ensures they never miss the rewards truly worth waiting for.
On the upper platform of Antavien, in the communications and radar array sector, Chief Deep-Sea Sorceress Hathaway quietly watched the massive installation standing beneath the blue sky—a main tower surrounded by countless auxiliary structures. The sea witch, her cheeks adorned with beautiful blue scales, had long since lost count of the years she had poured into these devices, just as she couldn’t recall how much effort she had invested in the core fusion tower and the jump engine at Antavien’s heart. But one thing she knew clearly: this work was worth every endless sacrifice.
The faster-than-light communication array was Antavien’s hope for reestablishing contact with other lost immigrant ships or any survivors who might still exist on their homeworlds. Perhaps not the only hope, but certainly the only one the sea witches could conceive of at the moment.
The sea witches are a remarkably patient people.
“Master Hathaway, the power reactor’s output has been redirected to the communication array,” a deep-water technician approached and bowed his head before her.
“Have the energy parameters reached the threshold?”
“Yes, this time they have!” The technician’s voice was tinged with excitement. “After completing the second phase of upgrades to the core fusion tower, the energy output from the iridescent generator now fully meets the requirements. The pre-startup procedures went very smoothly as well!”
“Excellent. Then let’s initiate the official startup,” Hathaway nodded gently. “Let’s see if the modifications and repairs we’ve made to the faster-than-light communication array will perform as expected—even if the main antenna remains unusable, the feedback parameters alone will be enough to validate our understanding of ‘magic.’”
(End of chapter)