Chapter 1496: A Difficult Choice

How long must a person prepare themselves mentally before they can accept designating hundreds of millions of lives as mere “costs” to ensure the survival of civilization?

Gawain believed the answer was likely “forever.” No one could truly steel themselves for such a decision. No one could calmly reduce it to a simple mathematical problem. It was something that would never feel “natural” or “reasonable.” The scale of the Sanctuary City Cluster meant that more than half the world’s population would be left outside the protective barriers, forced to face the onslaught of the magical tide head-on. And those who emerged from the sanctuaries would spend at least a generation slowly coming to terms with—and remembering—the price paid.

Yet, if there was no other choice, this grim option would still become an executable plan. Whether it was himself, Rosetta August, Belsethia, or the two dragon leaders, everyone here understood one fundamental truth: most of the world’s hardest decisions are never made with a clear conscience.

You can resent it, but you cannot refuse to choose. As Veronica once told Gawain, every sacrifice is a testament to the decision-maker’s failure—but decision-makers will keep making decisions, and sacrifices will forever accompany the progress of civilization.

It was under these circumstances that the Typhon people offered their solution. Gawain was certain Rosetta August fully understood the implications of their plan.

But it shouldn’t be the only solution.

“The Sanctuary City Cluster plan sidesteps the engineering nightmare of a planetary barrier, but the cost is limited protective coverage and staggering casualties,” Gawain tapped lightly on the table. “I have a question, though… We all know that generating a non-directional psychic field depends on a neural network. We need a massive number of ‘computational nodes’ densely integrated into the network—and those nodes are people. So where do you plan to place such a huge number of nodes? Will you concentrate them into specialized ‘node sanctuaries,’ with several cities serving as the ‘source’ nodes? Or will you distribute these computational nodes across all the sanctuary cities?”

He paused, then explained his concern. “If you concentrate the nodes, you maximize network efficiency, maintaining a strong psychic unity field with as few nodes as possible. But then you have to consider the security and daily operation of these node sanctuaries. Since most people in those cities must connect to the network to sustain the psychic field, you need a dedicated, absolutely reliable team physically present to maintain the nodes and protect the city.

“Given the high concentration of nodes, if even one or two node sanctuaries fail, the psychic field’s strength could plummet, and the entire barrier might be breached by the magical tide.

“On the other hand, distributing nodes across multiple cities reduces the risk of a simultaneous mass node failure causing a breach. With computing power spread out, even if a few sanctuaries fail or some lines in the wilderness are cut, the global sanctuary cluster remains intact. Plus, with abundant nodes, the people serving as computational nodes can rotate and rest. But the downside is obvious—distributed computing centers cost more than centralized node sanctuaries, and each city must maintain a full set of node facilities, effectively reducing each sanctuary’s capacity and leaving more people without a chance to survive.”

“We have indeed considered both scenarios,” Windsor Mapel said, glancing at Gawain with some surprise. She hadn’t expected him to grasp the Sanctuary City Cluster’s architecture so quickly and to immediately think through its two implementation options so thoroughly. But she quickly composed herself and answered seriously, “Currently, we lean toward the second option—distributing computational nodes across each sanctuary city, with each city building a complete supporting system.

“We know this reduces the capacity of individual sanctuaries, but it maximizes the safety of all sanctuaries worldwide. Once the magical tide begins, each sanctuary will seal itself off. Aside from neural network-based communication, there will be no personnel or material flow between cities… No one can cross the exposed wilderness to repair a failed node sanctuary. So the only solution is to avoid having centralized node sanctuaries at all.”

As Windsor Mapel finished speaking, everyone around the round table fell into deep thought. This was such a cold, pragmatic plan that even the leaders of the world’s most powerful nations had to devote every ounce of mental energy to carefully weighing every detail and anticipating every possible variable in its implementation.

As the convener and organizer of this meeting, Gawain scanned the room thoughtfully. He noticed Belsethia and Verania whispering urgently to each other. After several minutes, the Silver Empress suddenly looked up and broke the silence.

“Let me share our plan,” she said.

The Empress stood, resting her hands on the edge of the table as she spoke slowly. “The Silver Empire’s plan also avoids the near-impossible goal of a planetary-scale barrier. Like Typhon, we favor building a sanctuary achievable with current technology and relocating a large population into it. But the difference is, our plan aims to save more people… perhaps even everyone in the world.”

At those words, every gaze around the table shifted. Gawain’s mind raced, and he instinctively asked, “You mean…?”

“The Gondor Wasteland,” the Silver Empress nodded. “We intend to repair and rebuild the Sentinel Towers damaged in the previous war, reactivate the Grant Wall, and transform the entire Gondor Wasteland into a sanctuary!”

The room fell utterly silent. Even Rosetta August, usually poker-faced, widened her eyes slightly. After a brief pause, Belsethia nodded and began to explain this astonishing concept in detail.

“The Sentinel Towers themselves are powerful force field projectors with high-speed information transmission capabilities. Currently, part of the communication link between the Silver Empire and the Cecile Empire relies on the remaining Sentinel Towers for relay. We have already achieved compatibility adjustments between the neural network and the Sentinel link. With minimal modification, the Sentinel Towers can be converted into transmission nodes for the neural network and projection nodes for the psychic unity field—their power sufficient to shelter the entire Gondor region.”

“Wait, I have a question,” Rebecca raised her hand. “The Grant Wall is a ring-shaped barrier. Even if it encloses the entire Gondor region, what about the sky and underground parts?”

“That’s where the ‘Interdiction Walls’ come in,” Belsethia nodded. “The two Interdiction Walls built during the Wasteland War still stand across Gondor. Although the magical pollution in the wasteland has subsided, the walls themselves were never abandoned. With some modifications, the purification towers that make up the Interdiction Walls can guide and reshape the energy fields projected by the Sentinel Towers.

“Everyone here lived through that Wasteland War. We know the Interdiction Walls work by ‘frequency modulation’ to interfere with the magical environment of the wasteland. Their core is a wide-area force field projection and control device. According to Master Verania’s calculations, if we restore all the Sentinel Towers and combine them with the Interdiction Walls, we can sustain a barrier covering the entire Gondor region—both sky and land.

“This means, in terms of sheer scale, the Gondor Sanctuary could accommodate the entire world’s population… at least in terms of living space and basic resource reserves.”

The Silver Elves had proposed a stunning and alluring plan. Frankly, even Gawain had to admit it was beyond his expectations—and it sounded highly feasible.

Restarting the ancient Grant Wall, linking it with the modern Interdiction Walls, and turning the wasteland into a refuge for mortals—the once-destroyed Gondor kingdom would become a sanctuary. What was once a death trap in the magical tide would become a beacon of hope for civilization’s survival. This was more than a refuge plan; it was a deeply romantic and dramatic vision.

Gawain even thought that if the magical tide had a will, it might have to admit grudging respect upon seeing this plan: “You’re really moving house, huh?”

But he didn’t let the romance cloud his judgment. Instead of marveling, he focused on the plan’s drawbacks and risks. “Have you considered the weaknesses of this plan?”

“Yes,” answered Verania, the Grant Astromancer seated beside the Silver Empress. She had personally overseen the construction of the Sentinel Towers. Standing, she met Gawain’s gaze calmly. “Although the Gondor Sanctuary is far larger than the Sanctuary City Cluster proposed by Typhon, its resilience is actually lower.

“In our plan, the entire sanctuary depends on a vast and complex Sentinel Tower–Interdiction Wall system. Given technical and production constraints and the urgency of the magical tide, it’s nearly impossible to build additional Sentinel Towers or Interdiction Wall nodes as ‘redundant components.’ Completing the Gondor Wasteland’s sanctuary transformation within a year and a half is already pushing the limits.

“Therefore, once the Gondor Sanctuary is activated, the entire system will operate at a critical point. Every Sentinel Tower and Interdiction Wall node is crucial and cannot afford failure… The Interdiction Walls might be somewhat more forgiving—we may still squeeze out some production capacity to build backup components—but there’s definitely no spare Sentinel Tower capacity.”

“In other words, during the six months to a year the magical tide lasts, none of the Sentinel Towers supporting the barrier can fail,” Rosetta said in a low voice. “If even one tower goes offline, the sanctuary is doomed.”

“Exactly,” Verania nodded gently. “Compared to the Sanctuary City Cluster, the Gondor Sanctuary plan has almost zero disaster tolerance. Its strengths and weaknesses are clear—we can protect as many people as possible, but the risk is greatly increased.”

“This plan carries huge risks,” Gawain said. “And I think the biggest risk comes from those Sentinel Towers. To be blunt, we all know their condition. ‘Long neglected’ is putting it mildly. Several towers were completely destroyed during the Wasteland Legion’s assault in the last war. Given the Silver Empire’s current capabilities, can you really ‘rebuild’ these towers? And for those that need repairs, can they be restored to their former glory?”

Gawain’s words were blunt, but Verania showed no displeasure. She simply met his gaze with frankness.

“We must admit, the Silver Elves no longer have the ability to restore the Sentinel Towers to their prime. ‘Rebuilding’ the destroyed towers means extensive repairs on the ruins, supplemented with some modern substitute technologies to get them operational again. These repairs and reconstructions are unreliable, but considering the magical tide’s limited duration, these patchwork fixes become ‘good enough.’”

At this point, Verania’s meaning was clear—the Silver Elves had lost the complete knowledge to build the Sentinel Towers. Yet, relying on patchwork experience and the newly developed modern magitech, they could temporarily restore the damaged towers to working order. In theory, they could ensure these towers would hold up for the six months to a year that the magical storm would last.

But if something went wrong during that year or so… then it would be a global disaster.

And from Gawain’s perspective, the problems with this plan didn’t end there.

“The greater challenge we face is the wasteland itself,” Gawain said slowly after a moment’s thought. “Moving everyone into the Gondor refuge—even if it’s just for a year at most—will be an enormous undertaking.

“Though the chaotic magic in the Gondor wasteland has faded, the land is far from habitable. Aside from the outskirts and the purified zones influenced by the towering trees of Thalin, most of the ancient Gondor kingdom remains a harsh environment. The better areas are barren plains; the worse ones are poisoned waters and contaminated soil. Establishing settlements there won’t be easy. We’ll need massive, sophisticated life-support systems just to keep ordinary people alive… and even then, it will be barely enough.

“Overall, the Gondor wasteland is still a wasteland. Its natural environment has only just begun to recover. There’s no infrastructure to speak of—no towns, no farmland, and most areas lack communication or roads. It’s a wild, lawless expanse. Any nation moving people in will face utter chaos…”

Gawain shook his head, his tone grim. “Packing billions of people into a raw, desolate no-man’s-land—honestly, even the Cecile Empire might struggle to maintain social order under those conditions, let alone the smaller nations with weaker governance and mobilization.

“We won’t underestimate the fierce will of mortals in crisis, but we also can’t overestimate a ‘mass’ ability to stay rational and orderly in such a complex environment—especially when everyone is crammed into a wasteland, every resource must be rationed to the last drop, and the state institutions that uphold order are nearly paralyzed…”

(End of chapter)