Chapter 1434: The Starsea Project

The postwar reconstruction and economic recovery efforts were unfolding across the entire continent with unstoppable momentum. Despite the approaching winter chill, the people of Loren felt as if a blazing fire had been ignited within them. From Cecil to the Elven Court, from Typhon to the Dwarven Kingdom’s western shores, every bard, newspaper, magazine, and arcane broadcast was abuzz with the latest expansion plans, rebuilding proposals, and economic incentive policies.

At the same time, the legendary battle between the Dawn of the Mortal World and the Creeping Catastrophe was being retold and celebrated repeatedly. The astonishing sky fortress of the Cecilians was gradually becoming a symbol—a reassuring blade and shield for Loren in the cold days ahead. Yet all of this was merely the “public face” accessible to ordinary citizens of the allied nations.

Beyond the reach of the common eye, in the realm of classified secrets, even more covert projects and astonishing plans were underway.

At the “Treaty Bastion” on the border between Cecil and Typhon, the original “Gate” project had entered a phase of continuous observation. With the Sentinel Cruiser dismantled, researchers no longer had a vessel to continue their surveillance of the divine realms. The large-scale exploratory missions had been scaled back to the domain of the War God. In that crumbling divine kingdom, the Council of Divine Authority maintained only a single outpost, where a small research team conducted routine monitoring to document the gradual collapse of a godly realm.

Though the “Gate” project had been drastically downsized, Treaty Bastion did not fall silent. New research initiatives were launched, fresh technical experts and specialized equipment were brought in, and alongside them came a “Voyager Energy Crystal”—an artifact jointly retrieved from the Vipland Observatory by explorers from both Typhon and Cecil.

Since the failed “Countercurrent Project” in Talrond a million years ago, mortals of this world were once again confronting the legacy of the Voyagers. They sought to glean knowledge from these ancient, advanced technological relics and to understand the world anew. But this time, humanity was determined to avoid repeating the catastrophic mistakes of the Countercurrent Empire. They would approach the mysterious artifacts left by the Voyagers with reason and dialectic inquiry, not blind reverence.

Deep within Treaty Bastion, a specially fortified laboratory was ready. Unlike the “Portal Hall” used for exploring the divine realms, this lab lacked extensive mental protection runes and anti-divine barriers. Instead, its structural integrity was reinforced, and the floors and walls near the center were inscribed with numerous anti-magic runes and equipped with precise sensing devices. At the heart of the room, on an analysis platform, the energy crystal from the Vipland Observatory rested quietly on a base forged from a mithril-adamantine alloy. Surrounding it shimmered faint energy barriers and a solid crystal shield.

Kamail hovered in midair near the crystal, his arcane-illuminated eyes fixed on the artifact. As an arcane being, he could subtly sense the surging power contained within the crystal. Despite having been drained over countless years, the magic inside still pulsed with remarkable intensity, stabilized by an extraordinarily complex lattice structure that preserved its purity and energy level at an astonishing degree. To Kamail, it was nothing short of a marvel.

Did it have some slow recharge mechanism? Or was its capacity truly so immense that even after most of its power was spent, it still felt boundless?

Footsteps approached, and Kamail turned to see a tall, robust red-haired elder standing beside him, gazing thoughtfully at the crystal on the platform.

This elder was no human but a red dragon—Mr. Karador, a technical advisor sent from Talrond to assist humanity in studying the Voyagers’ legacy. Karador’s profound knowledge and cultivated demeanor had earned Kamail’s respect, and his expertise in Voyager artifacts was a vital asset to the human scholars here.

“I never imagined I would one day encounter their relics again in this form,” Karador said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Not long ago, such contact was forbidden…”

Kamail asked curiously, “By ‘they,’ do you mean the Voyagers? And the last time you encountered their relics in this way was…?”

“Yes, the Voyagers,” Karador nodded gently. “The last time I worked alongside the alien races of Loren to study Voyager artifacts was a million years ago. You’ve heard of that event—they called it the ‘Countercurrent Empire’… Though when I first met them, they were just a curious, fledgling people.”

Kamail’s eyes brightened instantly, surprise coloring his tone. “You were there during the Countercurrent Rebellion?! You witnessed that ancient war when the Countercurrent was born?”

“I’ve lived quite a long time—that’s one of the few things setting me apart from my kin. Not as long as the three ancient dragon lords, but I’ve seen a fair share,” Karador chuckled. “But for dragons, such ancient experiences are nothing special. Talrond’s society was rigidly structured, every role like a cog in a machine. Even a dragon who fought in the ancient war remains just an ordinary employee in the mithril vault after a million years. To me, the present world is far more interesting.”

Listening to the elder red dragon’s casual reflections, Kamail fell into thought. After a moment, he looked up and said firmly, “We will not repeat the mistakes of the Countercurrent Empire.”

“Talrond sent me to Loren precisely to ensure that,” Karador said solemnly, fixing his gaze on the former “Rebel.” “In truth, Talrond remains anxious about what you’re doing—even though we understand its necessity. This is the first time in a million years that mortals have touched the Voyagers’ legacy again, and it’s only the beginning… We dragons will be especially cautious. I hope you understand.”

“Only the beginning…” Kamail murmured to himself. As one of the empire’s core technical officers, he was privy to many secrets yet unrevealed, including His Majesty King Gawain Cecil’s upcoming “Sky Restoration Project.” Thinking of the infinite knowledge and risks behind it all, his tone grew grave, his expression turning a deep blue. “Rest assured, I share your commitment to reason and caution.”

Karador nodded softly, his gaze returning to the energy crystal. Lost in thought, he whispered, “The starry sky is already upon us…”

…

“The starry sky is already upon us.”

Inside a research facility nestled in the canopy of the towering Solin Tree, the avatar of Beltira looked up at a newly hung banner on the opposite wall. Two arcane technicians busied themselves on ladders, securing a large sign emblazoned with bold letters. Elsewhere in the room, a growing number of specialists hurried back and forth, setting up tools, calibrating devices, and organizing data. The vast hall buzzed with voices and the tense energy of a place preparing for something monumental.

This had once been the Solin Central Hub’s “Listening Facility,” dedicated solely to capturing signals from alien stars. Now, it was undergoing a massive overhaul: upgraded listening equipment, improved network connectivity, new mainframe-assisted computing interfaces, and a fresh cohort of experts and scholars preparing to move in. Once complete, this would become the command center for the “Starsea Project.”

“Decoders” from around the world would connect to this center via arcane communication and neural networks, sharing all information about extraterrestrial signals and collaborating to solve the myriad challenges of interstellar contact. The empire’s top linguists, logicians, and cryptographers would gather here to decipher every fragment of alien messages, uncovering every hidden meaning.

To support the Starsea Project headquarters, the empire had even allocated a newly built computing center in the eastern Holy Spirit Plains directly to the Solin Hub. At this very moment, an engineering team was busy in the root layers of the Solin Tree, installing specialized high-speed neural nodes to prepare dedicated lines connecting to the computing center.

All of this was in preparation for the coming era—the age of communication with alien civilizations among the stars.

As the banner on the wall proclaimed, the starry sky was already upon them. Whether the inhabitants of this world liked it or not, the only thing they could do now was prepare as best they could.

A voice suddenly interrupted Beltira’s thoughts. “Ms. Beltira, the main mana network has been fully reset. You can now reconnect the base power spine.”

Beltira turned to see a tall, slightly portly middle-aged researcher with wild gray hair standing behind her. He held a clipboard, his eyes bloodshot from lack of rest and self-care, yet his spirit was vibrant, even tinged with excitement.

Beltira nodded gently, sensing the building’s structure beneath her feet. She then clenched her fists seriously and brought them together. At her gesture, a low rumble echoed from deep beneath the hall’s floorboards and support beams, as if some massive living organism flexed and collided within. Moments later, the power spine—temporarily severed during the facility’s upgrade—was reconnected. As the energy supply switched over, many devices in the hall beeped to life, and the lights flickered before settling into their normal glow.

“Thank you for your help,” the researcher smiled and nodded, about to turn and continue his work. But Beltira called after him, “Bard, don’t you need to rest? You look like one of those ‘Everwake’ sleepers who only sleep once every three days…”

“I’m fine—still getting the necessary sleep,” Bard Wendell said, glancing down at himself with a confident, almost ethereal smile. “Don’t worry, I was a druid once. I know how to take care of my health. If I really get tired, I’ll rest.”

“A druid once…” Beltira gave the “former subordinate” a flat look—though he was still her subordinate now. “You weren’t nearly this reliable back then, especially as a druid.”

“Ah, that’s all in the past,” Bard Wendell scratched his chin awkwardly. “The important thing is, now we’re doing something truly worth the effort.”

“Is it really worth the effort…” Beltira murmured thoughtfully. Her gaze drifted to the other side of the hall, where a wall crafted from white wooden beams and overlapping layers of leaves—like a living floral tapestry—slowly parted before her eyes. Beyond it stretched the vast sky, with night creeping in from the horizon, and a few stars already twinkling in the deepest darkness. “By the way, are the linguists and logic experts still debating next door?”

“Yes, they’ve been at it all day and will probably continue through the night,” Bard shrugged. “His Majesty has demanded that they draft a text for first contact with the alien civilization as soon as possible. The experts have come up with several versions for self-introduction, expressing peaceful intentions, and establishing basic understanding. But when it comes to the crucial ‘first greeting,’ everyone’s at each other’s throats.”

“The crucial ‘first greeting’?” Beltira pondered for a moment, then felt a few leaves on her branch begin to droop. She quickly shook her head. “I can see why it’s so difficult. This kind of specialized problem is definitely better left to the experts.”

…

The main antenna array hummed softly in standby mode, its low, pleasant vibrations blending with the distant murmur of waves and the gentle sea breeze drifting across the deck. Deep Sea Witch Hathaway felt her mind gradually unwind. She curled her tail beneath her on a platform beside the faster-than-light communication array, resting her upper body on it, letting the warm afternoon sun glint off her scales as her form slowly flattened…

Suddenly, the voice of her attendant, Rosalia, cut through the comfort, interrupting Hathaway’s slow transformation into a sea-slime: “Master Hathaway, the Queen has sent me to check on the status of the faster-than-light communication array.”

Startled, Hathaway snapped out of her relaxed daze. She saw Rosalia standing before her, then glanced toward the array still in standby. Tapping the deck lightly with the tip of her tail, she said, “I’ve repaired the damaged section inside the main antenna. I replaced the burnt components with new ones. It’s ready for use at any time.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” Rosalia bowed slightly. “Now we just need to wait for our land allies to be ready.”

“Our land allies…” Hathaway shook her head gently, brushing away the last traces of fatigue. “There’s something I have to warn you about—the fault inside the main antenna is fixed, but the root cause remains unresolved. It’s likely to fail again after the next use.”

“I’ve already informed the Queen, and our land allies are aware of the situation,” Rosalia nodded. “For now, the priority is to figure out how to respond to that ‘alien signal.’ A full repair of the communication array will have to come later.” She hesitated, then asked, “By the way… have you identified the source of the fault? Is there any plan for a permanent fix?”

“The core oscillation crystal can’t operate at full efficiency,” Hathaway explained with a sigh. “The antenna array has to divert a huge amount of energy just to maintain the faster-than-light excitation circuit. Eventually, the energy accumulated in the circuit breaches the protective layer.” She shook her head regretfully. “Unfortunately, there’s no good solution at the moment. We can easily manufacture all the components for the array now, but even brand-new parts can only perform at less than half efficiency in this strange environment. The antenna’s load just won’t go down.”

“I see…” Rosalia frowned, then nodded slowly. “Though I don’t fully understand, I will relay your words to Her Majesty exactly as you said.”

(End of chapter)