Chapter 1308 - 595: The Destroyed Civilization

Chapter 1308: Chapter 595: The Destroyed Civilization

"Huh?"

Herbert gazed at the hollow metal cranial cavity, tilting his head slightly.

What does it mean?

Even though there was nothing physically there, he could indeed sense a gaze—a chaotic, painful yet intensely focused stare, locked directly onto him.

The epic-level perception doesn’t lie.

Not to mention Nenasha also confirmed his intuition—indeed there was "someone" watching him.

So... why are you looking?

Little brother, why are you looking at me?

Herbert squinted his eyes slightly, a pure thread of soul power extended directly towards the head, making contact with that chaotic soul.

This was actually a very risky move, easily allowing the other side to intervene, or even corrupt his will.

But Herbert didn’t care about such dangers at all.

Corruption? Backlash? Possession?

What is this guy talking about?.JPG

He wasn’t worried about the other side trying to possess him or something.

If anyone could successfully take him away from Nenasha’s hands, consider them impressive.

And even without Nenasha backing him up now, with his capability as an epic paladin who took the "Purity Oath," he didn’t need to worry about a reverse corruption.

"Hmm?"

Svanni keenly noticed Herbert’s anomaly, the bone blade in her hand paused, her gaze turned towards Herbert: "What did you discover?"

"It’s looking at me," Herbert said softly, shaking his head slightly at her: "I’m investigating it, don’t worry."

"I feel it wants to convey something to me."

He gently waved his hand and then let down his defensive intention.

As expected, the chaotic soul cluster shivered slightly after Herbert’s aura approached and leaned in immediately.

In the next second, countless fragmented memories and perceptions flooded into his consciousness like a bursting flood.

Soon, Herbert saw some confusing colors.

At first, it was a chaotic blur of colors.

Then, what filled his ears was the screeching of metal friction, the hissing of steam release, obscured shouting, and some kind of... mechanical roar.

Soon after, the image gradually focused.

Herbert saw an unusual world that seemed familiar yet strange.

The sky was leaden-gray, enormous smokestacks pierced the clouds, spewing billowing black smoke.

At first glance, Herbert thought of some famous "foggy city" he had read in books in his previous life.

But soon, he dismissed the association.

This was definitely not that city full of orphans.

Because between those smokestacks, there hovered translucent magical barriers, gleaming brilliantly, filtering industrial exhaust.

This is a world of magic.

The streets were wide, paved with flat stone slabs, tramcars ran along laid metal tracks, with glowing crystals embedded atop.

The pedestrians’ attire also carried the style of that era, most men in double-breasted long coats and high hats, while women wore corseted dresses paired with elaborate parasols.

Meanwhile, among the crowd, Herbert saw many beings with obvious non-human features.

In the shops beside the road, a hybrid woman with cat ears and a tail was haggling with a human merchant.

At the street corner, several short goblins... oh no, dwarves, were fixing a streetlight, their tools glowing with runic light.

In the distant square, a gigantic golem was being installed by workers using a crane, its chest carved with complex mechanical patterns and magic arrays.

This world... is neither a medieval fantasy world of this life nor the purely steampunk world of literary works from his past life.

"Steam era, with magic and Monster Girls, not a bad combination."

Herbert pondered, unsure what these memory fragments wanted to convey: "Moreover, did this steam civilization exist in this world before? Or is it..."

The scene flickered.

The perspective shifted to the interior of a workshop.

This seemed to be a manufacturing factory for some runic machine.

Massive gears turned, steam propelled pistons back and forth, gauge needles wavering unpredictably.

Every machine had glowing runes inscribed, controlling energy flow, improving efficiency, and preventing possible explosions.

The center of the scene was a man in oil-stained workwear, currently busy at a workbench.

He appeared to be in his forties, his right arm a metal prosthesis, with small gears and conduits visible at the joints, but his fingers were quite nimble, showing no stiffness.

His assistant was a small elemental spirit floating in mid-air, heating a piece of metal plate with a weak flame.

"Hurry up, we must complete the third phase’s power core today!"

The man shouted urgently: "The council is pushing us, the frontline needs more ’Blood and Iron Guardians.’

"But mentor, the fusion rate hasn’t increased at all! And, is this design really okay?"

The owner of the memory spoke, his age discernible from the voice, filled with anxiety: "The repulsive reaction between flesh and machinery is too strong, even with the new formula of alchemical stabilizers..."

Clang!

The man’s prosthetic arm slammed onto the table, causing a chaotic clatter among the parts on the table.

"Then apply more pressure! Increase the intensity of psychokinetic infusion!" the man shouted, suddenly turning his head and lowering his voice.

"Listen, kid, if we can’t deliver the product, the council will throw us to the frontline as cannon fodder. Out there... it’s already unsafe."

A distant explosion sounded outside the scene, the workshop subtly trembled.