Chapter 1438: The Intelligence They Revealed

The monitoring system switched to its routine surveillance and recording mode. In the main hall of the Solin Command Center, many people let out long sighs of relief—this momentous interstellar communication had finally concluded smoothly. For everyone who had witnessed it firsthand, it would likely take days to fully calm their nerves and begin to grasp the significance of what had transpired today. But for another group, the real “main course” was only just beginning.

Deep within the neural network, inside a specially encrypted space, an endless field of pure white flowers suddenly stirred with an invisible breeze. High Val’s figure appeared first beside a white round table adorned with delicate golden patterns and intricate openwork. His gaze then shifted across the table, where pale green flowering vines quickly faded from the air, revealing Belsethia Morningstar’s form. Shortly after, a solemn black gate descended from the sky; as its doors swung open, Rosetta Augustus stepped through.

High Val’s eyes instinctively lingered on the two imperial leaders for a few seconds.

How much time and effort did these two put in after the last meeting?

But he quickly pushed the wandering thought aside and spoke seriously: “All records of the star-sea communications have been compiled and sent to your end. A copy has also been archived in the corresponding database of the Star-Sea Project, ready for retrieval at any time.”

“I have already received them,” Rosetta Augustus replied with her usual stern, aloof expression, nodding slightly. “When will the communication devices on Antavian be operational again?”

“They’ve pre-stocked vulnerable parts for the main antenna. Repairs should be completed in less than a week,” High Val answered promptly. “In other words, we have less than a week to slowly digest the astonishing information we heard today.”

At High Val’s words, Belsethia’s lips twitched slightly, her expression shifting as she murmured quietly, “Astonishing… indeed astonishing. That civilization calling themselves ‘Noy’ mentioned so many unfathomable things. Do you think all this intelligence is credible?”

“To be honest, I always reserve three parts skepticism when dealing with any first contact,” Rosetta frowned as she took her seat. A steaming cup of black tea appeared on the table before her. “But regarding the content they revealed during this exchange… I think it’s best we assume it’s all true.”

Belsethia settled into her seat as well, turning her gaze to the Typhon Monarch before her. “It seems our views align… Whether or not this so-called ‘Noy’ people are as candid as they claim, when it comes to the maelstrom issue, we’d better prepare for every possibility.”

“They claim to have a way to protect the minds of their planetary populations during the maelstrom, and they mentioned a device called the ‘Unified Mind Field,’” High Val recalled the earlier communications thoughtfully. “If what they said today is true, they should eventually send over some ‘technical data’ related to it…”

Rosetta swirled her tea, watching her reflection ripple and fragment in the liquid as she pondered aloud, “Setting aside whether there might be traps hidden within, let’s assume this ‘Unified Mind Field’ device is real, and that it truly works against the maelstrom. Whether we can actually use it is another question… The ‘Noy’ said it took them 1,400 years to build this protective system, and that was with ample technological reserves. How long would it take us to build something of the same scale?

“Right now, we don’t really know the ‘Noy’s’ technological level. Although they seem capable of interplanetary travel, their society is clearly heavily influenced by that mysterious ‘Pioneer Race,’ making their technological development difficult to gauge… They could be far more advanced than us, or just putting on a show. Even their understanding of the maelstrom might not be accurate.

“Moreover, putting that aside, we have to consider another possibility: defensive technology effective for aliens might not work for us. The human and silver elf nervous systems have innate differences, let alone the fact that we’re separated by two planets.”

“I’ve thought about these issues too,” Belsethia nodded gently. “The key problem now is that we still have too little intelligence… After all, this is just first contact, and much must be inferred. So no matter what, contact must continue. On that basis, I think we can tentatively accept their invitation to ‘cooperate,’ at least to conduct some technical exchanges—that will help us better understand those unfathomable things the ‘Noy’ mentioned.”

Hearing Belsethia’s opinion, High Val nodded slightly. “Their planet is far away, and currently the two civilizations can only communicate remotely with great difficulty. This is a huge inconvenience, but also a perfectly ‘safe distance.’ We don’t have to worry about cooperation going too deep or spiraling out of control. Ultimately, the vast distance means neither we nor the ‘Noy’ can truly seize the initiative in this interstellar cooperation. In fact, that’s a good thing.”

Due to the great distance and technological limitations, the two civilizations that barely established interstellar communication can only exchange information through limited means. For the foreseeable future, they cannot truly meet—an impassable “safe distance” neither side can cross. Perhaps this inconvenient situation is actually the ideal state for two alien civilizations’ first contact.

Both imperial rulers nodded in agreement at High Val’s words. Rosetta then brought up another matter: “What concerns me more now is something else… about their ‘gods.’”

“A civilization that has achieved ‘coexistence’ with its gods…” The Silver Queen’s expression quickly grew solemn. Clearly, she was pondering this issue as deeply as High Val. “This might be the most surprising part of today’s exchange. Coexistence… what kind of coexistence allows them to send their gods into the universe as ‘observers’?”

High Val said nothing, frowning in thought. His contemplative demeanor soon caught the Silver Queen’s attention, and she asked immediately, “Have you come to a conclusion?”

“I’ve been thinking about a question for a long time…” High Val began slowly. “Since the establishment of the Divine Authority Council, we’ve been working to sever the ‘two-way shackles’ between gods and mortals—whether it’s removing the ‘psychic seals’ from mortal populations, gradually ‘loosening’ the gods’ hold on their divine seats, or specific technologies like anti-divinity barriers and mental defense systems. The ultimate goal of all this is to separate humans and gods. But what happens after that separation?”

“After the separation?” Belsethia frowned slightly. She hadn’t even considered this step yet. Most gods in this world still occupy their divine seats, and mortals in the lands of Loren are still far from completely shedding their psychic seals. Thinking about what comes after human-god separation now seemed premature.

But she wasn’t surprised by High Val’s question—after all, “Uncle High Val” always thinks ahead of others. It’s said that as far back as the Ansu Kingdom era, he was already looking to the skies. So it was only natural for him to contemplate the “post-mythic era” order even before the gods had loosened their grip.

Rosetta, sitting across from them, seemed stirred by the topic. He furrowed his brow and carefully said, “You mean that once the chains between gods and mortals are completely severed, a new order must be established to stabilize the ‘positions’ of gods and humans respectively. This is a problem the Divine Authority Council will have to face in the future. And you think those ‘Noy’… have already achieved this?”

High Val nodded slowly. “The ‘Noy’s’ situation might not apply to us, and their experience might not work on our planet. But one thing we’ve come to understand is this: the gods are not actually our enemies. As long as the two-way shackles are resolved, they won’t threaten civilization’s survival. So the answer is obvious: if we eventually achieve this ‘loosening,’ we will inevitably have to ‘peacefully coexist’ with many gods.

“This has already been exemplified—the Divine Authority Council’s senior advisors: Amohn, the god of nature; Mylmina, the goddess of magic; Enya, the dragon god; and, more broadly, the High Narrator Nariel and Duvalet. These were once gods, but now they coexist with mortal society in some form. From this perspective, the achievements we’ve made with these senior advisors might be very close to the coexistence model between the ‘Noy’ and their gods.

“If there’s a key difference, I guess it’s just one thing: a ‘complete public acknowledgment, making it a norm in public consciousness.’ From the ‘Noy’s’ attitude when mentioning the ‘Observer Project,’ it’s clear that having gods serve as observers monitoring the maelstrom is probably no secret in their society.”

“Complete public acknowledgment, making it a norm in public consciousness…” The Silver Queen repeated High Val’s words instinctively, her eyes widening. “Wait, you mean making the existence of the senior advisors fully open to the public? But… wouldn’t that be completely contrary to the Divine Authority Council’s current principles?!”

Rosetta frowned as well. “We’ve always carefully controlled leaks about the senior advisors. Even within the council, strict confidentiality rules apply to personnel below level two clearance, all to prevent too many mortals from knowing about these senior advisors’ existence. All this is to prevent the reestablishment of faith links…”

“I never said we should announce their existence right now, nor that such a ‘disclosure’ would be unconditional,” High Val smiled faintly, understanding their nervous reactions. “But have you ever considered this—if the chains between gods and mortals are completely severed, those gods who have left their divine seats will inevitably live alongside mortals as ‘old gods.’ If we don’t stabilize this ‘coexistence’ state, we might actually be leaving a hidden danger for the resurgence of divinity.”

The Silver Queen finally began to grasp High Val’s idea. “…You mean, if the prevailing ideology ‘recognizes’ that a god’s seat remains but the god is absent, that position will sooner or later be refilled. And the best way to plug this loophole is to create a new ideology—a ‘gods are no longer gods’ ideology—to completely… ‘overwrite’ the old ideological tendencies?”

High Val didn’t answer directly. Instead, he suddenly shifted topics. “Do you know about the ‘Mistmoon Rebellion’ in old Ansu a hundred years ago?”

Rosetta nodded. “Of course. It’s well-known history.”

“The Mistmoon Rebellion left the Ansu throne vacant. The Morn descendants with diluted bloodlines each raised armies to fight—no king sat on the throne, yet everyone had the potential to become king. But the chaos was ultimately ended not by any of the warring ‘heirs,’ but by a ‘bastard’ suddenly placed on the throne.”

High Val spoke slowly, then abruptly changed direction.

“We can never fundamentally ‘eliminate’ the existence of gods, because their existence is an objective law of our world. Denying this is useless. We cannot build a godless order in a world where gods exist. So… why not simply ‘set the rules’ ourselves for gods and humans?”

“All along, I’ve had this vague ‘feeling’—a sense that I might have finally grasped the ultimate way gods and mortals coexist… In this state, we no longer deny the existence of gods, because they are truly there—tangible, visible beings. We don’t try to erase a divine position, because such a position has long been woven into the fabric of the world’s laws; it’s rooted in the deepest emotions of sentient minds. Just as we cannot eliminate our own human desires and feelings, we cannot uproot the ‘soil’ from which these divine roles arise. Nor can we ‘confine’ the gods, nor isolate them forever beyond the mortal realm—because we shouldn’t treat those who have long sheltered all living beings in such a way, even if they consent to it.

“In this final form of coexistence, gods… are very likely ‘social entities’ stripped of their old halos—powerful individuals whom the public can understand, and after understanding, still accept with reason. We will clearly know how gods are born and evolve, and how they gradually shift from being ‘It’ to ‘He’ and ‘She.’

“When that day comes, no new gods will emerge, nor will any existing gods run amok—because by then, we will have lost the ability to shape gods from the currents of thought, and the foundational conditions to forge spiritual imprints will have vanished. Perhaps mortals will never achieve truly widespread ‘rationality,’ but at the very least, by that time, all our reverence and blind faith will no longer be directed at some elusive projection of collective thought.

“In the end, we neither conquer the gods, nor deny them; we neither destroy them, nor are destroyed by them; we neither control them, nor are controlled by them. When the mortal civilization of this planet comes of age and steps beyond this world, we should set out together with the gods—not leave them behind in the old world.

“Only in this way, I believe, can we explain the strange circumstances finally revealed by the ‘Noyans.’”

(The End of This Chapter)