Chapter 1446: An Urgent Need

While the experts at the Arcane Energy Technology Research Institute busied themselves analyzing the astonishing alien technology blueprints, at the Sorin Listening Station on the eastern edge of the Holy Spirit Plains, transmissions from “Noy” continued to pour in relentlessly.

Bard Wendell sat at his post, eyes fixed intently on the array of devices linked to the main antenna. Beside him, the printer churned out stacks of technical documents and blueprints, piling higher by the minute. Other operators and technicians, drawn by the news, had gathered in the hall, all watching the data transfer progress with growing anticipation.

Because the Noy’s faster-than-light communication encoding was still inefficient, no one knew how long this transmission would last. Bard was well past his shift’s end, but he showed no sign of leaving.

Just a little overtime—how could he miss such a historic moment?

“The sheer volume of these materials is staggering…” a voice beside him murmured, thick with awe. “They actually sent all of this in one go. But shouldn’t technology at this level be… some kind of ‘core secret’?”

“Who knows,” another colleague replied. “Maybe the Noy think differently from us. Perhaps they don’t see sending core secrets as a problem. Or maybe something’s gone wrong on their end, and they’re forced into this…”

Bard glanced at the two speaking beside him. “Don’t you have your own stations?”

One of them laughed, patting Bard on the shoulder. “We’re off the clock. Just came to watch you work late.”

Bard: “Next month, no chicken drumsticks for you in the cafeteria.”

“Hey, we’re just curious,” the colleague grinned sheepishly, then grew a bit more serious. “The Star Decoders have temporarily stopped translating the data. We’re sending the raw files directly to the Imperial Capital. The Emperor himself knows about this and is personally monitoring the situation.”

Bard nodded slightly, unsurprised. Emperor Gawain had long shown a keen interest in the stars, and now, with information arriving from across the cosmos, the fate of the entire world hung in the balance.

He felt a quiet awe—he, too, was part of this historic process, in a way he’d never imagined.

When he was transformed into a Dark Druid by the Cult of the End of All Things, who would have thought he’d one day be sitting at a console receiving alien blueprints? The turn of events was more than a 180-degree shift—it was like stepping into a completely different script.

A faint rustling of roots behind him pulled Bard back from his wandering thoughts. He heard Lady Beltira’s voice behind him: “Let me see—are they still sending data?”

“Yes, Lady Beltira,” Bard replied, opening another arcane network terminal to project a hologram filled with readings from the main antenna and the “Noy signal.” “Signal strength has remained high and stable for longer than any previous record. But aside from these technical files, the Noy haven’t said a word.”

“They seem… desperate,” Beltira’s avatar studied the data silently. With her far more sensitive, intricate senses, she could feel the main antenna humming atop her canopy. A subtle energy vibration trembled through the atmosphere, invisible information waves projected from distant star seas, resonating faintly with the planet’s magical environment. Whether it was real or just her imagination, she sensed an uneasy emotion in that indescribable “light hum”—an instability emanating from a civilization light-years away, or perhaps just a shadow cast by her own mind.

Suddenly, she felt the main antenna’s operation pause noticeably. Moments later, Bard’s listening terminal emitted a low hum signaling the end of data transmission.

The flood of technical files from the Noy had finally stopped. Silence fell over the entire monitoring system. The suddenness left everyone momentarily stunned. Instinctively, they all looked toward the central holographic display—now showing only faint, flickering background noise.

After a few seconds of quiet, Bard’s headset crackled with a brief vibration. Then, alien script appeared on the hologram. The Star Decoders, who had been closely watching, sprang into action. Translation came swiftly, and beneath the alien text, a phrase in the common tongue emerged—

“We hope to speak with you again soon—The Entire Noy Civilization.”

Bard and his colleagues exchanged glances.

…

“This was their final message—and the only sentence they spoke during the entire transmission,” Jennie said, handing a freshly received file from the Sorin Listening Center to Gawain in the Arcane Energy Technology Institute. “After that, communication was cut off. It seems they’re waiting for our response.”

“…Something’s wrong,” Gawain frowned instinctively. “The Noy must be in trouble. Their urgency, even anxiety, is palpable.”

“I feel the same,” Rebecca nodded quickly. “Could it be that a magical tide is about to hit their world?”

“That would be terrible news,” Gawain said slowly. “Their planet is only a few light-years away. Though that’s vast to mortals, astronomically it’s close—four light-years is practically next door. If a magical tide is about to engulf them, our own safety is in jeopardy. And we don’t even know how fast these tides spread through the universe.”

“Even knowing the speed won’t help much,” Jennie said worriedly. “We also need to determine the direction. It could come from the Frostsky constellation, or sweep across both their world and ours almost simultaneously. To figure that out, we have to build the ‘Magical Tide Observation Device’ now.”

“Magical Tide Observation Device…” Gawain repeated the term, then looked at Rebecca. “The Noy’s data transfer is complete. The Star Decoders will work overtime translating all the annotations. Once finished, you must immediately organize and send everything to the technical teams in Typhon and Silverhold. Also, tell them we need to assess the feasibility and risk levels of these technologies as soon as possible.”

Rebecca nodded eagerly. After Gawain finished, she hesitated slightly. “If the evaluation shows no major issues… do you really intend to build the Magical Tide Observation Device and the Mind Unification Field according to these blueprints?”

“My initial plan is that the Observation Device will have to be built sooner or later,” Gawain said, frowning. “But the ‘Mind Unification Field’… let’s hold off. We need to understand its principles first. Something that large-scale might not even be buildable, and it might not even be useful to us.”

He paused, then, as if compelled by habit, emphasized again: “Remember, whether it’s the Observation Device or the Unification Field, they must be ‘safe and reliable.’”

The sudden influx of Noy data disrupted many routines, but Gawain remained calm. No matter what trouble the Noy faced, the alien technology had to undergo rigorous evaluation before moving forward. That was a fundamental rule he had set from the start.

Using unknown “alien tech” without caution? The disastrous consequences were unimaginable. No matter how sincere the Noy seemed, or how many reasons they gave, Gawain wouldn’t casually turn their blueprints into physical constructs on his planet. What if it was a teleportation gate? Or a beacon guiding an invasion fleet?

This wasn’t paranoia or prejudice against aliens. As a faction leader, Gawain had to be cautious—not just for himself, but for the entire Cecil Empire, the Alliance, and countless lives on this world.

Frankly, if he were a lone adventurer, encountering some inexplicable “ancient relic,” he might have rushed in headfirst, chasing fortune and risk. But in his position, building an alien invasion portal on his home planet was a risk no one could cover.

Besides, he himself had often left “backdoors” in foreign trade tech…

And even if the Noy were genuinely honest, and their tech truly flawless, Gawain had to consider whether alien technology was safe on his planet. Physiological differences between species could turn friendly tech into deadly weapons—like how the Sirens’ “comfortable, safe, and fast submersibles” could drown thousands of land-dwellers.

…

At the Sorin “Star Sea Project” headquarters, the Star Decoders, the rune and arcane engineers of the Imperial Capital’s Arcane Technology Department, and experts from all related fields sprang into action. The flood of alien technical data gave everyone a reason to work overtime.

When Gawain returned to his study, Tiel—who was napping for the fourth time that day—was abruptly awakened.

“When can the Antavian faster-than-light communication array be reactivated?” Gawain asked, his expression serious as he looked at the deep-sea ambassador, still rubbing sleep from her eyes but regaining her ability to communicate. “We need to reestablish contact with the Noy as soon as possible.”

Tiel rubbed her eyes, sensing the unusual gravity in Gawain’s tone. Her entire fish-like form brightened. “So urgent… Is something wrong with the Noy?”

“They sent hundreds of blueprints and technical files all at once today, ending with a message saying they want to talk. I suspect something unexpected has happened over there,” Gawain said, meeting her gaze. “We have to find out what’s going on as soon as possible.”

Tiel was fully awake now. She blinked, recalling the last message from the great witch Hathaway. “According to her, the faster-than-light communication array should be operational within two or three days. Antavian has already replaced the burnt components in the main antenna tower. Only final adjustments remain.”

“Two or three days…” Gawain frowned. “That’s all we can do for now. Once the array is back online, we’ll contact the Noy immediately.”

Tiel nodded. “Understood. I’ll head to the array and coordinate with the sisters in Antavian.”

Gawain let out a soft breath, but the deep furrow between his brows didn’t ease in the slightest. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he muttered quietly, “But this can’t go on forever…”

“Huh?” Tyr didn’t quite catch his meaning. “What can’t go on forever?”

“The state of the faster-than-light communication array,” Gawain tapped his finger lightly on the table. “It keeps burning out, then getting patched up again and again. Each time, it only manages a short window of communication with the ‘other side’ before we have to spend at least a week repairing the antenna… This is just too inefficient.”

“Well… Her Majesty the Queen did mention this to me,” Tyr said, thinking it over as the tip of his tail idly traced circles on the floor. “She said the FTL array is barely holding together right now. If we rely on this patchwork setup to coordinate with a civilization several light-years away against the apocalypse, any emergency would definitely cause serious delays.”

Gawain leaned forward slightly. “Is there a better solution?”

Tyr spread his hands—and tail tip—in a helpless gesture. “The sisters over in Antavian have been trying to redesign the internal structure of the main antenna, but the High Witch Hathaway says it’s tough—getting that thing to work at all is a miracle, and miracles don’t tend to happen twice in a row.”

“By the way… what exactly causes the main antenna to burn out?” Gawain asked, curiosity getting the better of him. “I might not understand the technical details, but I’m really interested.”

“Ah, I’m not too clear on the specifics either,” Tyr admitted, struggling to recall the ‘news’ he’d heard during a recent chat with the sisters. “I just know it has something to do with a resonant crystal at the core of the antenna—well, not exactly a malfunction, more like this component can’t handle the load in the abnormal magical environment. That causes energy to build up in the core, which eventually breaks down repeatedly or something like that…” He explained as best he could. “The High Witch said unless we find something with extremely high energy density that can withstand massive energy shocks and maintain ultra-stable output under heavy load to replace that resonant crystal, the FTL array can’t be fixed.”

He sighed. “Easier said than done. Where would we even find something like that? The resonant crystal in the main antenna now was brought from our homeworld…”

Listening to Tyr’s rambling, Gawain reached up and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“That ‘something like that’ you mentioned… we might actually have one on hand already…”

(End of chapter)