Chapter 1584: Before the Sunshine Breaks Through

Rebecca stood and lit the magic crystal lamp. The sudden warmth of the artificial light brightened the room, which had just been swallowed by night. Under the glow, High Lord gazed silently at the documents on the table, lost in thought for a long while.

“…It’s only a hypothesis,” Jenny finally broke the silence after a long pause. “The sun is the biggest source of interference… This direction is really baffling, and our understanding of the ‘void celestial body’ is nowhere near as deep as our knowledge of the planet beneath our feet…”

“Yes, it’s just a hypothesis. There’s currently no evidence proving that the observation device’s faulty readings are caused by external interference, let alone that this interference comes from the sun,” High Lord said, slowly shaking his head. “But this hypothesis perfectly explains the anomalies we’re facing, and even why none of the Noyan contingency plans have worked.”

Rebecca glanced at Jenny, then back at High Lord. After holding back for a long moment, she finally spoke up, “But… if the interference really does come from the sun, what do we do then?”

High Lord fell into deep thought. Of course, he had been pondering this very question since earlier. No matter how he considered it, this was a dead end: if the interference truly originated from the sun, it meant the entire Loren planet lay within this ‘interference zone.’ Even a vast area around the sun would be suffused with its boundless power, making it impossible for the observation device to escape the sun’s pervasive influence.

This wasn’t a problem you could solve with a laughable idea like “turn it on only at night.” The interference wasn’t caused by mere sunlight, but by the sun’s magical energy. The observation device itself relies on scanning magical fluctuations in the starry sky. When interference is everywhere, saturating the entire planet, how could you possibly shield the device from it?

Moreover, the magic tide observation device is a fixed installation, integrated with the Sacred Mountain and built on the Great Plain. It can’t be moved or covered by any kind of filter.

“I can’t think of a solution right now,” High Lord finally said after a long silence, shaking his head slowly. “This problem is beyond what a few people can solve by brainstorming. We need to gather all the experts to face this challenge, and even collaborate with the Noyans to analyze the situation. We also need more rigorous and effective investigations to pinpoint the root cause. ‘Interference from the sun’ is only a possible hypothesis—it still requires more evidence.”

Rebecca nodded slowly. Jenny, after a moment of thought, suddenly spoke up: “If it turns out the interference really is related to the sun, we might not have enough time to redesign the observation device… Even if it’s technically feasible, it would be too late.”

High Lord looked at Jenny deeply, then suddenly reached out and placed a hand on her somewhat slender shoulder. “’Too late’ is not a reason to give up. No matter the outcome, it’s better to fight to the very end than to watch the end come without trying.”

Jenny stared at him, momentarily stunned. After a while, the weariness in her eyes gradually gave way to determination. She took a deep breath and lowered her head solemnly. “Yes, I will remember your teachings.”

High Lord nodded. “If you’re tired, rest for a while. We have many problems to face, but none can be solved overnight. Your position is special—don’t collapse at a critical moment.”

After a few brief instructions, High Lord left the Magic Technology Department building. From now on, he would be busy—countless matters awaited his arrangement and attention. As a great shadow loomed, he had to stand ahead of everyone else.

After High Lord’s departure, the large office was left with only Rebecca and Jenny. Under the bright magic crystal lamp, the atmosphere grew heavy. Even the quieting night outside the window no longer brought comfort; instead, it stirred anxiety and restlessness. Rebecca looked at her friend with concern, hesitating before finally asking, “Jenny, are you alright? Are you thinking about… back then?”

“Sigh I’m fine,” Jenny interrupted before Rebecca could finish. She forced a smile, though it was faint and strained, shaking off the dark mood. “Don’t worry. People grow. The Empire’s chief runesmith isn’t going to back down now, and His Majesty’s words have awakened me…”

“His words?” Rebecca blinked. “How did they awaken you?”

“No matter the outcome, effort is better than giving up,” Jenny said as she turned toward the desk. “I didn’t take up that notebook because I foresaw future glory.”

…

In the following days, both Noy and Loren anxiously awaited the next synchronized observation window. Before it arrived, a series of tests, adjustments, and verifications of various hypotheses regarding the magic tide observation device never ceased.

On the Ancestor Plain of Mount Augury, the colossal engineering behemoth had fully awakened. Every sensor, every computing center, every power station roared to life, driven by the planet’s immense internal energy. The low hum from the vibration focus echoed across the plain. Sensor arrays swept the skies repeatedly in the wind. Operators continuously reset hardware, switched redundant circuits, adjusted computing modes, and collected environmental samples around the clock.

Every conceivable verification method was put to use within days, and one by one, hypotheses were ruled out.

Throughout these tests, communication between Noy and Loren never stopped. The Loren Alliance sent all parameters from the observation device’s operation to the far side of the starry sea without reservation. Scholars from both planets focused their gaze on a single point. Under this scrutiny, the range of possible causes for the device’s anomalies gradually narrowed.

This shrinking “suspect range” finally pointed to the result no one wanted to face—the cause of the abnormal readings was not hardware failure, not software bugs, not blueprint flaws or design defects. All internal factors were eliminated. The only explanation left was the existence of an unprecedentedly powerful external interference source enveloping the entire system.

It was this interference that caused the observation device to see only a “double image,” no matter how it operated.

Deep within the Observer’s Chamber at the peak of the Ancestor Mountain, Myrmina sat quietly on her golden throne. A turbulent flow of magical flames surged beneath her feet. Neatly arranged magic network terminals hummed quietly throughout the cavern. Complex holographic projections continuously refreshed dizzying data and graphs, showing the engineering behemoth functioning exactly as designed. If it were a living creature, it was healthy and vigorous.

But Myrmina knew well that this beast had been bound from the start—tied by a rope from the sky, a rope that for millions of years had been regarded by all life on this planet as the source of life and the blessing of all things.

“This is the Observer’s Chamber. All scheduled procedures have been completed. Relevant data is being transmitted to the Cecile Empire’s computing center,” Myrmina activated the magic network terminal beside her throne. As a former deity, she maintained the highest work efficiency, unaffected by emotional fluctuations in fulfilling her mission as an “Observer.” “The magic tide observation device will now undergo about an hour of self-inspection and maintenance. Communication channels will remain open.”

In a study in Cecile City, carpeted with blue velvet, High Lord nodded slightly at Myrmina’s image on the communication screen. His gaze then returned to the nearby printer. With the cheerful clicks of gears and linkages, a strip of pristine white paper slowly emerged from the machine:

“…Our sages have analyzed all data and can now basically confirm your hypothesis is correct. The cause of the magic tide observation device’s failure to perform as expected lies outside the system. The gas giant planet orbiting Loren is the most likely source of interference. With current technology… we have no way to counter this interference.”

The words on the paper were neat and cold. It was hard to tell the emotions of the sender or those behind them, but High Lord sensed a deep helplessness and frustration beneath the surface. After long contemplation, he sent a reply:

“Is it possible to attempt ‘cracking’ the interference through post-processing algorithm optimization, or to calibrate parameters mathematically?”

After a moment, the printer clicked again:

“We have indeed considered this plan. Our sages are currently discussing its feasibility. Additionally, we are attempting to design a ‘reverse correction’ mechanism for the observation device to try to resolve the interference. However, whether these plans will work remains unknown…”

The signal from Noy paused briefly, then resumed after about half a minute:

“Leader, this… is very regrettable.”

High Lord knew this last sentence was personally sent by the “witch” Nova, but it also reflected the feelings of the Noyan people four light-years away.

Yet beyond the word “regrettable,” they had no other way to describe the situation.

Because this was no one’s fault—who could be held responsible? Noy had shared all their knowledge without reservation. Loren had fully cooperated. Both civilizations had done everything within their power. But the shadow that had suddenly fallen was beyond everyone’s expectations, even beyond the technological limits of both planets.

So all they could say was—this is very regrettable.

But High Lord stared quietly at the cold, sharp letters on the paper strip, his expression more resolute and calm than ever. After a moment’s thought, he pressed the special “send” button:

“It’s not yet time to declare our own death sentence. Miss Nova, and friends of Noy four light-years away, we still have time to act. Even if only one month remains, we have one month. Even if only one day remains, we have one day. Even if only one second remains—we cannot waste that second on regret.

“There is an old saying among the Grey Elves of the Loren Alliance: Time spent on regret is the most precious cost in the world. So let us put aside regret for now. The situation is not good, but there is still much to be done. Let us start by trying to optimize the algorithm to crack the interference. Whether it works or not, we won’t know until we try.”

The magic network terminal hummed. High Lord’s words transformed into data processed by the Thorin Command Center, then sent through the Antavien faster-than-light communication array into the vast starry sea. In the cold expanse of space, a single sentence might not bring much warmth, but the Noyan reply came faster than ever before:

“We fully agree—Leader, I take back my earlier words. The situation is difficult, but we need not feel regret.

“Noy will optimize the current observation device’s algorithms as soon as possible and seek ways to ‘strip away’ interference based on parameters observed by Loren. Additionally, materials related to the ‘reverse correction’ plan will be sent soon. Please stay alert.

“It is not yet time to give up.”

Gawain exhaled softly, leaning back into his chair. His expression was calm as he stared at the printer connected to the arcane network terminal. His voice was low and steady. “Yes, it’s still not time to give up.”

The communication between the two planets had come to a temporary halt. Only after the terminal and printer fell silent did Amber, who had been standing quietly nearby, finally speak up. “Would you say this is what they call being at the end of one’s rope?”

Gawain lifted his eyelids and glanced at her. “Congratulations. This time, your choice of words is spot on.”

“I’m not happy about it at all,” Amber said, pouting as she plopped down into the chair beside Gawain’s desk without any pretense. “The interference is coming from the sun… I worried about all sorts of accidents before, but even in the worst-case scenarios, things never got this absurd. Our entire ‘world’ is bathed in the magic the sun provides…”

Gawain was silent for a moment, lost in thought. After several quiet minutes, he finally broke the silence. “So smooth sailing only exists in dreams—there’s no such thing as gentle warmth in the real world.”

Amber shrugged, then abruptly shifted gears. “The new batch of transport ships from Antavian has arrived at the orbital elevator. According to the sirens, this is their last reserve of space operation equipment. Once these engineering machines and protective devices are ‘launched,’ the construction crew at Skyhold Station won’t see any major expansion—just some personnel rotations at most. Nicholas ‘Egghead’ reports that the current engineering force is sufficient to complete all the renovation projects within the planned timeframe.”

Gawain let out a quiet breath of relief. “At least one thing is finally moving forward smoothly.”

The troubles with the magical storm observation device cast a heavy shadow over both civilizations. Without the device functioning properly, neither Noy nor Loren could access the crucial “civilization key.” Yet even under this cloud, the necessary work had to continue—renovations at Skyhold Station, activation of the planetary shield, expansion of the neural network, and the basic necessities of daily life.

From the survival of civilization to the meals on the table.

Life had to go on.

Gawain turned back toward the floor-to-ceiling window of his study. Outside, the sunlight still shone brightly.

The grand projects pressed on, and ordinary people in the city carried on with their lives.

But deep down, he knew all too well—for the Noyans four light-years away… their time was running out.

(End of chapter)