Chapter 1207 - 1206: The Road to Retake the Wasteland

Chapter 1207: Chapter 1206: The Road to Retake the Wasteland

The giant eagle soared across the skies at the edge of the wasteland, taking in everything happening on the ground below. In Azmole’s eyes, the events in these polluted areas seemed much as he remembered them—the great walls still blocked off that destructive boundary, and the polluted land and mutated forests sprawled like scars over the ancient empire’s territories. The light emitted from the energy fields reflected onto the distant clouds like a light-forged city wall piercing the heavens and the earth, while the civilized world...the civilized world was still on the other side of the mountains.

But when he focused his perception on the eagle’s gaze, things that hadn’t appeared in his memory came into view before him.

He saw a "line" formed by scattered lights stretching across the Black Forest and the banded flatlands at the edge of the great walls. The starting point of this line was at the southern foothills of the Dark Mountain Range, where there were more lights, large swaths of land artificially leveled, and a fortress concealed between rocks and woods. The endpoint of the line extended almost to the foot of the great walls—and it gave the feeling of still advancing, still stubbornly pushing forward.

It was a road, a road that was traversing the polluted zone and approaching the Gondor wasteland, and this road was under construction.

Azmole was somewhat surprised. He instinctively controlled the giant eagle to climb a bit higher, attempting to cast his sight farther. His sudden movement made the surrounding "escorting" Royal Eagle Cavalry instantly tense up, several giant eagles successively raised their altitude, issuing sharp vibrant calls, and the knights on the eagle’s backs also tightened their reins nervously, their golden pointed helmets glimmering with tremulous light in the setting sun.

"Don’t be so nervous, young men," Azmole couldn’t help but laugh, softly saying, "I’m just an old man on the brink of decrepitude."

"Please don’t make such sudden moves at high altitude, Master Azmole," a voice came from the magic supplies pinned on the clothes, from the Eagle Cavalry Captain, a young man said, "We’re considering your safety."

Azmole merely smiled, not arguing with this young warrior about anything—when he first traveled this continent riding a giant eagle, the Morning Star Empress of several generations ago was still a child. He had traversed storms, crossed mountains, soared over the vast battlefields between early humans and Dark Subspecies, and had been a distinguished guest among humans and beast tribes, spreading the gospel of the God of Nature in numerous courts. The dangers and trials he had faced outnumbered those of all the eagle knights combined here.

They merely worried that this "dangerous individual" might make some excessive moves.

Of course, the knights truly were concerned about his safety—as they were more concerned than ever, at least until reaching the destination, no one in this team hoped for any accidents to befall him. Despite the Morning Star Family and the "orthodox religions" they represented having long hoped for his demise over the past three thousand years, from the day this journey began, their greatest wish was for "Great Druid Azmole" to live to the end.

Azmole shook his head, lowered himself slightly over the eagle’s back. The sentient creature sensed his thoughts, and with a loud call, a broader land unfolded in Azmole’s mind. He surveyed this vista extending far beyond human and elf vision limits, casting his gaze towards the east side of the Dark Mountain Range, along the edge of the great walls—finally, he saw more lights.

That was another road traversing the polluted zone of the Black Forest. It lay at the eagle’s sight’s end, almost completely obscured by trees. If not for the dimming twilight, Azmole might not have noticed those faint glows rising from the treetops.

This ancient and elderly druid finally drew a breath, softly saying, "Anzu and Typhon have finally started their counterattack on the wastelands, haven’t they..."

"Master, Anzu is already history," another young female voice rang from the communication device, "Now the North is ruled by the human empire Cecil—founded by the resurrected Pioneer Emperor Gawain Cecil."

"Ah, the Cecil Empire...I know, I just forgot," Azmole replied indifferently, with a hint of a smile on his lips, "The resurrected pioneer, huh...I’ve heard of Gawain Cecil, I’ve heard of his deeds, but—Queen Beltira, do you really believe a human can resurrect after resting for seven hundred years?"

Queen Belsetia’s voice came from the communication device, gentle yet indisputable like the wind of nature: "Yes, I believe so—Master Azmole, look at the road extending towards the wasteland below you, don’t you think so?"

Azmole made no sound, simply gazing silently at the artificially-lit road cutting through the Black Forest, as if looking at the pioneers of seven hundred years ago, the Gondor men of a thousand years ago, and even the human forefathers and elven missionaries from three thousand and many more ancient years past. After a long silent moment, he finally broke the silence softly: "...He could resurrect..."

"...That’s just fine," Belsetia said with a hint of laughter, "Master Azmole, please hold on tight; we’ll lower our altitude once we cross the Dark Mountain Range."

...

With the arrival of dusk, patrols and surveying teams operating on the outskirts of the Forward Base began to return to the safety zone. As the last armored surveying vehicle entered the base, the door reinforced by steel frames closed, leaving only soldiers patrolling on the walls and searchlights slowly rotating atop sentinel towers vigilantly watching the dark and obscure polluted plains in the distance, quietly waiting for nightfall.

Grand Architect Blues Panstone climbed up the iron ladder to the camp’s outer walls. The reinforced steel plates and steel frames creaked under his feet. Banded flatlands always seemed to carry unceasing winds, carrying the decaying scent from afar, howling through the gaps between the walls, occasionally bringing eerie sharp whistling—yet these sounds have long become routine for the warriors stationed at every Forward Base.

Blues Panstone crossed a short connecting wall, where the outer side of the wall had many protruding arc structures, housing the latest Justice-II Orbital Accelerator Cannons and Empire-II Arcane Torrent Generators. These "big treasures" with shiny cannon mouths and stable focusing structures always provided additional security to those living at the wasteland’s edge—in such a place even slimes wouldn’t want to stay, such a sense of security is indeed crucial.

The Grand Architect reached a sentry post atop the wall. Standing in the steel shelter were two sentinels, monitoring the pollution zone outside while saluting him: "Hello, Grand Architect!"

Blues nodded to the sentinels and asked curiously, "How long have you been stationed here?"

"We’ve just switched shifts," one sentinel replied, his eyes not leaving the area outside while speaking, "Not even half an hour..."

Blues hurriedly waved his hand: "No, I mean how long have you been stationed at this base?"

The other sentinel thought for a moment, then smiled, his teeth brilliant white against his slightly dark skin: "Almost a year now—we’re the second batch sent to this base. Our Captain arrived two years earlier than us."

Blues nodded and cast his gaze inside the walls—the dusty barracks, the garage with parked war machines, the energy station maintaining the base’s operations, the water purification facilities, and the Magic Obelisk at the center of the base came into his view one after another.

Eighty percent of these facilities were personally designed by him back in the day.

This Forward Base was originally constructed to restore the great walls, and after that great project was completed, all the Forward Bases were preserved just like this one, continuously operating until today. Some soldiers in these bases have been rotated, but a few veterans and commanders have extended their terms and are still serving on this land outside the boundaries of civilization.

Due to the existence of the supply line through the Black Forest, and with logistical support from the defied Fortress through the Dark Mountain fortress at Southgate, these Forward Bases situated deep within the contamination zone aren’t too bad off in terms of logistics supply. Their real challenges come from the harsh environment near the great walls and the often starving, rampaging mutants and wild beasts wandering the contaminated zones—sometimes, they even have to fend off aberrations suddenly emerging near the base of the energy field screen.

Since the repair of the great walls, aberrations wandering outside the walls have become very rare. However, due to the power limitations of the sentinel towers and the unique "generation mechanism" of aberrations, these monsters wandering along the base boundaries have never been entirely eradicated. According to the information Blues has, the foremost bases engage with aberrations almost monthly. Fortunately, thanks to modern weapons and barriers, these small roaming monstrosities are not yet able to breach the warriors’ front lines.

"Grand Architect," one of the sentries’ voices suddenly came from beside him, interrupting Blues from his thoughts. The young soldier wearing a slightly curious expression asked, "The railway you mentioned... when will it be built up to this point approximately?"

Blues was momentarily stunned but soon revealed a faint kind smile, patting the young soldier on the arm: "Military secret, young lad."

"Ah... sorry!" The soldier immediately realized he misspoke, straightening his posture and solemnly saying, "I am..."

"No need to be nervous. I know many warriors are concerned about such news," Blues said with a smile, "which is why I personally lead the engineers to inspect every Forward Base along this route—adequate preliminary preparation is the primary condition to ensure that subsequent projects can proceed smoothly. Rest assured, this project is a major affair under the personal attention of His Majesty, and its progress won’t be slow."

The sentinel relaxed, showing a hint of anticipation: "Once the railway is completed, our War Fortress will advance here—then can we actually counterattack the wasteland?"

"Of course, if not for counterattacking the wasteland, why else would His Majesty invest so much strength here?" Blues replied confidently, and just as he was about to say more, an indistinct cry suddenly pierced through the high-altitude clouds, traveling a great distance to reach his ears. The Grand Architect with keen hearing from dwarf heritage instinctively looked towards the source, noticing in the dim twilight some neatly arranged vague black dots seeming to glide from high above, flying towards the direction of the Dark Mountain Range.

Upon further discerning, the Grand Architect curiously furrowed his brows: "It seems to be the elves’ Giant Eagles?"

"Are those the elves’ Giant Eagles?" The two sentinels also finally noticed the commotion in the sky. They peered out, confirming through a reconnaissance scope enhanced by bird’s eye magic, whereupon one of them muttered with some surprise, "They are actually flying close to the boundary of the wasteland... quite audacious."

"The great walls were built by them; they are well aware of where the safety zone’s edges lie," Blues wasn’t surprised, only curious about the elves’ appearance, "But this scale of Giant Eagles... it seems they have a significant purpose. Nine times out of ten, they’re His Majesty’s distinguished guests again."

The Grand Architect shook his head; this wasn’t something he should concern himself with. At this moment, footsteps suddenly sounded from not far away, interrupting his thoughts.

A warrior ran up the wall, saluting before Blues: "Grand Architect! Please head to the communications room—a contact from the Southgate Fortress."

"Alright, I’m on my way." Blues instantly replied seriously, swiftly taking leave of the two sentinels on the wall and running towards a nearby ladder.

The communications room was located near the center of the Forward Base, right next to the towering Magic Obelisk. The path required passing through a row of barracks and two warehouses. Blues moved swiftly with vigor and soon arrived at the room equipped with the Magic Web Terminal—the ancient magical device at the center of the room was already active, the Focusing Crystal emanating a ghostly glow as the visage of Grand Architect Gordon appeared at the center of the communication interface.

"Blues, I hope I haven’t interrupted your work," Gordon immediately spoke upon seeing Blues appear, "I just received an order from the imperial capital."

"No interruption at all—today’s data collection and work plan are already accomplished," Blues casually remarked, his expression turning extremely serious, "An order from the imperial capital? What’s the situation?"

"No particular situation—it’s a new task, required to be completed while constructing the advancing railway. Rest assured, the task itself isn’t difficult; the only requirement is quality assurance and timeliness, with absolutely no delays,"

The expression in the communication interface was seriously speaking alongside Gordon’s words, and with his dialogue, the table’s ancient magical device connected to the magic web terminal also started operating automatically. Amid the slight friction sound of gear and linkage operation, sheets of printed paper continuously emerged from the output port.

"Have you seen the information I sent over? It contains what you need to know."

Blues curiously stepped forward, picking up the information. A task document with numerous blueprints and parameter instructions appeared in front of him—it’s highly specialized material, but for a Grand Architect who has even repaired the great walls, interpreting this content presented no challenge.

"A large-scale biomass processing center... pre-embedded fission pool... and an underground bunker reserved for the Servo Brain tank?" Blues began to show an expression of surprise, "What’s the purpose of this? Are we moving the biological factories into the wasteland too?"

"Don’t ask me, I’m unaware as well," Gordon shrugged, "Since it’s an imperial order, we’re bound to execute it earnestly."