Chapter 1416: Confirmation

Deep within Antavian, at the heart of the ecological dome district, stood the towering Core Fusion Spire—a colossal structure piercing through the entire starship like a sky-reaching monolith, linking every mechanical bay, energy ring, artificial sea, residential zone, and dome district. Now, it emitted a low, melodious hum, rolling like ocean waves in layers, sending a faint resonance throughout the entire colony ship.

For hundreds of thousands of years, the sea witches had nearly forgotten what it looked like when the Core Fusion Spire was activated.

At the base of the spire, the once repeatedly repaired but ultimately futile “ignition components” had been completely removed. In their place, rows upon rows of arcane network units—technology borrowed from their “land allies”—were neatly arranged within the dark mechanical bays. Though not advanced by terrestrial standards, after amplification and purification through the iridescent devices, the energy output was almost “just right” to ignite the fusion spire.

Midway up the spire, within a massive storage chamber sustained by force fields, a faintly glowing pale blue substance gently rippled. It looked like liquid, yet more like drifting light mist, lacking any tangible form. This was the fuel substitute the sea witches had discovered after their fall to this primitive planet: a high-purity energy extracted from the corpse of a god.

Before the ignition system was completed, the sea witches had no way to restart the Core Fusion Spire. They resorted to the most primitive method—“burning” the god of storms’ corpse. The energy harvested this way was limited and unstable, barely enough to maintain Antavian’s most basic functions. But now… they had found a way to control “magic energy,” a method to restart the spire.

Following the command of the chief deep-sea sorceress, the arcane network array at the spire’s base and the iridescent devices were activated simultaneously. In the mechanical bays at the ship’s bottom, the prism-like arcane units began to glow with runic light. Then, dozens of large iridescent generators installed in the ignition chamber emitted a deep, resonant hum. These powerful “beam cannons,” fixed on a hovering ring, all pointed toward a single “focal point.”

The humming of the iridescent generators swelled to a peak. These massive “weapons,” once used as main cannons on land, fired simultaneously. Within a millisecond, dozens of devastating beams struck the same spot, where a tiny “droplet” hovered, awaiting the infusion of immense energy.

A thunderous roar echoed through the fusion spire—the chain reaction had successfully ignited.

The deep rumbling from Antavian’s core reached the upper decks. Hathaway listened intently to the steady, heartbeat-like roar. As the sound gradually subsided from its initial peak to a stable operational hum, a faint smile appeared on the deep-sea sorceress’s face—but she remained composed.

This was not the first successful ignition. Since the construction of the arcane network units and iridescent generators, Antavian had successfully ignited the spire six times. Though the technology was still immature, with hardware and procedures needing refinement, the “magical technology” from their land allies had indeed given the sea witches the ability to power their energy core and restore parts of Antavian to its former glory.

Unfortunately, the ship still faced countless problems far beyond fixing a single energy core. Even the Core Fusion Spire itself was not fully restored. Despite successful ignition, its output power was far below theoretical peak and could only run steadily for about half a month. Yet compared to the past, this was nothing short of miraculous progress.

“The Core Fusion Spire is responding. Fuel circulation is normal. Ignition cycle stable,” a deep-sea technician’s voice interrupted Hathaway’s drifting thoughts. “Stable output power is at 46% of design capacity. The entire system is running smoothly. Deep-sea sorceress, we may proceed to the next step.”

Hathaway blinked, quickly regaining focus. She lifted her head to glance at the superluminal communication array, silent for hundreds of thousands of years. After a moment of calm, she nodded gently. “Activate the main antenna array. Switch the entire system to listening mode.”

“Understood! Activating main antenna array. Switching to listening mode!” the technician responded immediately.

Energy from the Core Fusion Spire was redirected. Deep within the platform housing the superluminal array, the distinctive clicking of energy relay tubes connecting echoed. Hathaway felt the water element within her stir slightly, a tingling sensation spreading through her body. The ancient, massive device was coming to life.

“Load signature database. Begin directional search and signal identification,” she said, turning to the technicians inputting commands through the calibration terminals. “Sequentially call out to the Sathorn, Zarazan, and Paracian ships. Clock frequency 62.”

Strange noises emanated from deep within the superluminal array. Hathaway recognized the sound—there were still issues inside this vast, complex antenna system. Perhaps the newly replaced runic units didn’t fully integrate, or the gravity detection module had unknown faults. But these localized problems hadn’t caused a total system failure. The main antenna was still operational, and Hathaway gave no order to shut it down.

She knew this system intimately—she had helped design it. She knew when to halt and when to wait.

The superluminal communication array began scanning the starry expanse. In an instant, an invisible wave radiated outward from the blue-green planet, sweeping across a vast 1,600-light-year radius.

This was a rapid, wide-area search sacrificing communication precision and narrowing recognition parameters—a limit of what the Antavian array could currently achieve. It sought only three signals: the other three ships that had fled the homeworld alongside them and lost contact.

Hathaway closed her eyes briefly. A distant sea breeze brushed her blue hair. The world seemed to fall silent—silent as the universe scanned by the array.

No preset identification signals were received.

Of course, the stars were not truly silent. Even now, alien calls drifted through the cosmic sea, echoing across the sky. As the Dragon God had said, countless such signals had risen and fallen over tens of thousands of years, like the chirping of summer insects. But this noisy clamor was not the sound the sea witches wished to hear.

Within this 1,600-light-year radius, the stars were utterly silent.

“In the vastness of the universe, 1,600 light-years is but a tiny scale,” a deep-sea technician murmured to himself. “Looks like we really have come a long way…”

“Perhaps it’s not just distance,” Hathaway said softly, her face calm. “The universe holds all kinds of possibilities.”

“What’s our next move?” the technician asked the chief sorceress. “Maintain the current frequency and continue broad deep-space calls? Or narrow the search range and broaden the recognition bandwidth to receive and analyze signals across all frequencies? Our land allies seem to be monitoring an alien signal frequently directed at this planet. Our superluminal array might be able to detect it.”

“We…”

Before Hathaway could answer, another noise erupted from the main tower of the communication array. Accompanied by a high-to-low wail from the energy relay tubes, the entire antenna system automatically cut power. Nearby, a technician monitoring the system shouted loudly, “Main antenna gravity detection module offline! System forced shutdown!”

“We’ll fix it first,” Hathaway smiled faintly, her voice as calm as a windless lake. “Then fix it again.”

The world seemed perpetually unkind to all beings, but the sea witches never minded—they were a patient race.

…

“In summary, by unanimous vote of all member states of the Alliance, the proposal to admit the Deep Sea Kingdom as a member is hereby approved. From this day forward, the Deep Sea Kingdom shall be our close friend, steadfast ally, and partner in survival and mutual support on this planet. Under the sacred Covenant of the Mortal Community Alliance Charter, the Deep Sea Kingdom shall enjoy all rights and bear all corresponding obligations of membership. This resolution shall remain in effect until any major changes specified in the Charter occur…”

When Gawain announced in a steady, powerful voice that the sea witches had officially joined the Alliance, the dome hall erupted in warm, sustained applause. The Tiers—along with their kin—stood and saluted the assembly. Amid the applause, they received a copy of the original Charter and signed their names. This copy would be carefully preserved, with four additional copies held long-term by the three major council states and the Deep Sea Kingdom.

“Next, we move to the following agenda,” Gawain said as the hall quieted again, his gaze sweeping over the delegates. “In this session, we will welcome a special ‘participant’—one who played a pivotal role in the recent Wasteland War and will have a profound impact on our Alliance.

“For certain reasons, this participant cannot be physically present. She will join us via remote connection.”

Some delegates showed brief confusion and curiosity, but most quickly realized who Gawain meant. All present were key figures in the Alliance, well aware of the recent war’s details. Many had commanded or even fought on the front lines. They knew there was indeed a faction at the heart of the conflict that had yet to appear in the hall.

Their eyes turned almost simultaneously to the center of the dome hall, where a large arcane network terminal had already powered on. As Gawain’s words fell, a shimmering light flickered above the projection crystal, coalescing into a clear, stable holographic image.

A voice came from the image: “Greetings. I am Ophelia Norton, descendant of the Gondor Empire, leader of the Iron Legion, and current lord of the Deep Blue Well.”

The delegates’ eyes widened. They saw a figure seated on a golden throne, seemingly fused with it. Countless cables and conduits connected her back and the throne’s surroundings. She sat expressionless, delicate as a doll, yet lifeless like one too. Around her was a vast underground platform. In the distance, swiftly moving lights and some kind of vehicles were faintly visible. Closer by, rows upon rows of fully armored iron soldiers stood in perfect formation.

“I’m sorry that this is the only way I can meet with you,” the voice sounded again. Yet the delicate “doll” sitting on the throne in the holographic projection didn’t move at all—not even her lips parted. From the image, she was clearly the so-called Ophelia Norton, but her voice seemed synthesized from somewhere else. “Surviving in the wasteland demands many sacrifices. I can no longer leave this fortress deep underground, but I believe that doesn’t hinder our communication. Once again, I greet you, my allies standing shoulder to shoulder.”

Amber, sitting beside Gawain, quietly poked his arm. “Hey, Ophelia really went all out with her ‘conference avatar.’ She looks almost exactly like the real Ophelia. Don’t you think she just repurposed one of those old Iron Man models?”

“How would I know?” Gawain replied flatly, his voice slipping through clenched teeth. “But having an avatar definitely cuts down on a lot of trouble. Most people here wouldn’t accept a bunch of ancient machines talking to them directly.”

Amber nodded in agreement. “True.”

Finishing their whispered exchange, Gawain lifted his head. The reactions of the delegates upon seeing Ophelia Norton were all in his line of sight. Clearing his throat, he said, “Ahem, then let’s move on to our next topic—after the war, Deep Blue Well will join the Alliance as a permanently neutral city-state, an independent power.”

As Gawain spoke, low murmurs and small ripples of unrest spread through the hall.

This was the real crux of the “Tarash Conference”—the postwar order of the Gondor Wasteland and the distribution of interests!

The Sea Witches joining the Alliance was indeed significant, but it was hardly controversial. The distant underwater kingdom had no conflicting interests with the Loren Continent. Their advanced civilization was an undeniably powerful ally. Their expeditionary forces had already demonstrated astonishing strength and clear goodwill during the previous wasteland war. No one in the hall opposed their inclusion.

But Deep Blue Well… To be honest, although the Alliance nations had learned during the war about the Iron Legion and the “descendants of Gondor,” not every country had anticipated that this seemingly “ruinous” Deep Blue Well would suddenly join the Alliance as a neutral city-state!

Those with keen senses realized something:

Though Gawain was ostensibly discussing Deep Blue Well’s status as a neutral city-state, in reality, this was likely the moment to define the entire wasteland’s division, to set the terms for the postwar settlement—or rather… to lay down the baseline.

(End of chapter)