The Nebula's Civilization

Chapter 317: Sarcho of the Shipwreck Archipelago (Epilogue)

Between the central, western, and southern continents was the Ocean of Fury. Despite being the site of the five greatest naval battles in Avartin’s long history and where a massive current cut across the three continents, the ocean, intersected by warm equatorial currents, was characterized by its clear skies and calm, slow-moving waters.

In the midst of these slow currents sat the Shipwreck Archipelago. Geologists had already concluded that the Shipwreck Archipelago shouldn’t be considered a true archipelago, but many people in Avartin still readily referred to it as such.

The archipelago was a resting place for countless shipwrecks brought in by the slow currents of the Ocean of Fury and stuck on numerous reefs that never became islands. The place looked like an afterlife for ships, some sunk but not fully submerged like other ships.

It was a peaceful place. Huge wooden ships from before the Great War were buried under various plastic trash floating in the oceans of Avartin, becoming an intersection of the past and modernity. Simultaneously, naval ships destroyed during the war could huddle together without choosing sides only after death.

Although the area was almost waveless, whenever the wind came and hit the water surface, causing a slight ripple, the shipwrecks would creak and sing. Birds migrating between the western and southern continents, curious if there was anything to eat, would be startled by the sound and take off into the sky.

Sarcho, the Chairman of the western continent, looked up from the deck of Invincible, a flagship of the former Union Kingdom, located on the edge of the Shipwreck Archipelago.

The migratory birds, having circled the archipelago, returned to their spots and settled down. Beneath where the birds perched, the shipwrecks were covered in white bird droppings. The sight of ships from various nations all uniformly covered with bird droppings was amusing enough to bring a smile to Sarcho’s face. But he quickly wiped away that smile.

Behind the Shipwreck Archipelago, a bizarre scene shimmered in the sunlight on the horizon. Contrary to its reputation as a desolate, barren sight, the Shipwreck Archipelago was frequently visited. There were many travel photographers with cameras, geologists more interested in analyzing the reefs below the archipelago, ornithologists curious about its role as a stopover for migrating birds between the three continents, oceanographers and environmentalists studying the growing impact of the archipelago on the ocean, and archaeologists interested in the origins and era of each shipwreck.

With many scholars renting boats to enter the archipelago, the Empire facilitated a comprehensive platform by repurposing an old aircraft carrier built during the Great war, nearing the end of its service life, to assist their research. Sarcho too had arrived at the archipelago using the aircraft carrier’s runway and had just stepped off a small boat.

Lately, the Shipwreck Archipelago was drawing attention for another reason, leading to a bit of commotion as people who had never visited before started gathering there. The issue was not so much with the Shipwreck Archipelago itself but with the view it offered.

Sarcho now looked at that view. In the middle of the ocean, where the horizon seemed unreachable, there was a structure the scale of which could be mistaken for a vertical illusion. It was a golden pillar, 4.8 kilometers in total length. Even on a cloudless day, the pillar was so tall that its end appeared only faintly visible.

This structure, already being called by many names such as Lakrak’s Star Spear, Avartin’s Judgment, and Path to the Stars, was originally—as the first name suggested—a spear. Without needing an official statement from the Central Temple, Avartin Geological Society, or Imperial Aeronautics and Space Agency, numerous people in Avartin had seen it firsthand.

Constellation of Judgment, Lakrak, had pierced two Sky Castles, embedding them in the seabed, and then straightened the slanted spear to make it stand upright. Lakrak then left, but the Star Spear remained.

Later, Sarcho commented in a speech as the Chairman of the western continent, “Constellation? Whatever it is, it’s a matter for the Central Temple. It’s their responsibility to dispose of the item left behind by their representative. Of course, before that, we must investigate the impact this waste has had on the marine ecosystem of the Ocean of Fury, and they must bear responsibility for that.”

Naturally, Sarcho’s statement resonated strongly across Avartin. Secularists readily accepted Sarcho’s message that even the new status of Constellation was merely a product of the divine, and they enthusiastically supported Sarcho’s labeling of the Constellation’s item as waste, even though they had achieved a great victory.

In contrast, the Central Temple and the enthusiasts were furious. So furious that, despite the Empire’s strict security, Sarcho ended up getting hit in the face with a rotten egg.

For Sarcho, that too was part of politicking. With one rotten egg, Sarcho managed to form the Star Spear Environmental Investigation Committee with people from the western continent, and Sarcho would have been willing to get hit with an egg every day if it meant such results.

‘Would the situation have changed if I had?’

Despite Sarcho’s efforts, the Star Spear did not follow his expectation. After three investigations, the Star Spear Environmental Investigation Committee concluded that, despite its immense size, it was almost harmless to the environment.

Native species were partially swept up in the destruction caused by the Star Spear, but the heat circulation created by the Star Spear, absorbing sunlight, was judged to have helped form a more diverse ecosystem. Whether this was harmful or not was still a topic of debate within the committee, but environmental anomalies were considered more significant in the nearby Shipwreck Archipelago.

Sarcho’s visit to the archipelago was to finalize the practical closure of the Star Spear Environmental Investigation Committee. Sarcho needed time alone to contain their own anger, and the committee, the Central Temple, and the Imperial Palace all respected Sarcho.

Now, in place of the Pantheon, the Hall of Myriad Stars enthusiasts were petitioning various agencies to designate Lakrak’s Star Spear as a sacred place, and the official institutions of the three continents bordering the Ocean of Fury were passing around jurisdiction and responsibility, wasting time. The Empire was prohibiting travel for non-academic purposes, but pilgrimages to the Star Spear through airships were already an open secret.

Sarcho swore softly, “Damn it.”

In their first fight with the Constellations—rather than gods—Sarcho had been defeated. Sarcho could envision what would happen next. The Pantheon had transformed into the Hall of Myriad Stars, and gods were now nominally changed to Constellation. Along with this change, they proclaimed that anyone could become a Constellation.

But among 1.7 billion people, who would reach the end of life to become a Constellation? Originally, the old gods who had spent 110,000 years had earned their divine status, and the Constellations were occupied by new beings from beyond the universe. And only one among the mortals of the past and present, the Judge of Avartin, Lakrak, barely managed to qualify as a Constellation.

While Sarcho could agree that Lakrak deserved this status given his great achievements, accepting this new system called the Sanctuary was another matter. Sarcho was determined not to accept the Constellations, just as they had stubbornly rejected the gods.

“You don’t seem pleased.”

Startled by the unexpected question, Sarcho turned around. It was not a conversation drifting from somewhere else, but a voice directed at Sarcho. When Sarcho looked, they saw a young Human male standing there.

Sarcho had met many species in their life and was good at recognizing faces. This ability was the foundation of Sarcho’s political acumen. They intuitively recognized non-verbal signals of various species, discerned the status or authority someone held in their species based on appearance, and even identified people without any information.

Sarcho observed the Human male in front of them. Perhaps in his mid-twenties, he would be considered frail for a Bugbear, but well-groomed by Human standards. Although unable to make out the brand, the fabric of his clothing was of good-quality, and the biggest clue lay in his speech. The man, ignoring the age and status difference with Sarcho, the Chairman of the western continent, spoke informally, showing no respect. This clearly meant he was a noble.

‘Is he from a branch family of the central continent’s Hwee family?’

Sarcho went for a branch family because the face was unfamiliar, and Sarcho guessed that the man could be a regional businessman from Orazen, holding onto one of the Hwee family’s businesses. Like many wealthy enthusiasts, he probably seized an opportunity as a sponsor for an academic group to view the Star Spear and had come this far. 𝘪𝘳.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Sarcho said, “Lost your way, kid?”

“No,” the man replied. “I came here to talk with the Empire’s greatest politician. But I only see you upset.”

Sarcho decided to respect the man’s confidence.

He chose to respond, “I can’t accept that thing.”

“Because you think the Constellations are no different from gods?”

“No different?” Sarcho repeated the words.

It wasn’t like that. Many things had changed. According to the Central Temple’s announcement, the Hall of Myriad Stars was different from the Pantheon. Their prayers still reached the Constellations, and if desired, they could serve as gods, which was why priests still existed. However, these priests no longer possessed the same power as before. The miracles they used to perform disappeared with the Fall and did not return.

Additionally, the Hall of Myriad Stars was less efficient in prayers compared to the Pantheon, as commonly brought up by the secular people. The Central Temple stated that the Hall of Myriad Stars was now meant to repair the great damage of Avartin, the Rasdasil Ruins, and fundamentally resolve threats from the outer universe, known as the space of evil. It was still a power to protect Avartin, but it felt less useful to the people. In fact, many people lost their faith after the transition to the Hall of Myriad Stars.

“…It’s not that there’s no difference. It might actually be slightly better. But that’s all.”

Sarcho looked at the Star Spear more comfortably. The fearful aspect of the Star Spear was that it defied all known physical laws. It wasn’t just because it had defeated the old gods. Current science, and even magic, had no way to maintain such a structure. It was literally evidence of the power of the Hall of Myriad Stars.

As much as some people lost faith in the Hall of Myriad Stars, others became more fervent about it. They were filled with the expectation that they too could enter the Hall of Myriad Stars, driven by its achievements, sacrifices, and the possibility of becoming part of it. People still had the chance to reach the Prairie of Beginnings and the Hall of Myriad Stars.

Moreover, the Constellations of the Hall of Myriad Stars were actively intervening in Avartin. Not just claimed by the priests who believed in the Hall of Myriad Stars, but rumors spread that Constellations were directly involving themselves with individuals whose will and intentions matched their own.

According to the rumor, Constellations approached individuals with tasks and rewarded them for their completion. Theologians, now called Starologians, interpreted this as compensating for Avartin’s lack of miracles. Though reluctant to grant direct miracles, Constellations continued their personal work to make the world a better place.

Independent of this, Constellations showed themselves more directly and frequently than when they were gods. It seemed they were determined to do so, as much as causality allowed.

“The world hasn’t changed,” Sarcho said. “In the past, it was Gods. Now, it’s the Constellations. Those who hold the reins of our fate have changed. It’s just a bit more relaxed.”

The man replied, “What if that’s the only way?”

“What?”

“What if we’re walking a dark path and without someone to take the reins, we tumble down a cliff? Would you accept the threat of falling over that cliff?”

Sarcho closed his eyes tightly. They had thought of the man as just a noble brat, but his question remained in Sarcho’s heart as a long-standing issue.

Opening their eyes, Sarcho said, “I would accept it. If our destiny is to face the end, we must endure it.” Sarcho stated, “But people have possibilities. Even in the darkest path, they can feel their way forward. People are not helpless fools. Even if they fall off a cliff, they can climb back up.

“Ultimately, even if death looms right before us, if that is the destiny we choose, we can gladly accept it. If, as the Hall of Myriad Stars says, everyone can become a Constellation, then…yes. If Constellations can do it, even the most ordinary person can do it. We can manage without someone pulling the reins.”

The man nodded in agreement, “That might be true.” But even as he spoke, he smirked somewhat arrogantly, “However, to do that, first you have to defeat the Hall of Myriad Stars.”

Sarcho realized from that smile that the man in front of him was not what he had thought at all—neither Human, male, nor mortal.

Sarcho asked, “Who are you?”

Choi Sung-Woon replied, “The being you hate the most.”

Without moving, Sarcho smiled pleasantly, “Is that so?” Sarcho inquired, “Did you come here to mock me?”

Sung-Woon shook his head and approached Sarcho, standing in front of the crumbling railing. “I came to make a proposal.”

“What kind of proposal?”

Sung-Woon looked at the Star Spear. A breeze blew, ruffling the hair of both of them.

“What do you think about becoming my apostle?”

Sarcho started laughing. They found it so amusing that they clutched their stomach and fell to the ground in front of the railing.

After laughing hysterically, wiping tears from their eyes, Sarcho finally sat up, “Oh, really. That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in my life.”

“I’ve hinted at it a few times.”

“I never thought you’d actually come and say it.”

“Your answer?”

The smile faded from Sarcho’s face. “I refuse.”

Sung-Woon’s expression did not change. He had anticipated the response. “You could become a Constellation.”

“Like the Constellation of Revolution or something?”

“Yes.” Sarcho realized that although Sung-Woon was looking at the Star Spear, his true focus was somewhere much farther away. “For the Hall of Myriad Stars, Avartin was just the beginning, not the end. More power is needed. In the universe beyond…there are countless wounds.”

“…That’s terrible.”

Sung-Woon tried to guess what Sarcho found terrible. Either the numerous wounds in the universe beyond or the Hall of Myriad Stars’s imperialistic strides across the universe.

He concluded that it was both. “Depending on the perspective, both are terrible.”

Sarcho stood up and joined Sung-Woon in facing the Star Spear. “Well…even so. My old hatred, there’s no need to worry.” At that, Sung-Woon looked at Sarcho, who roughly stroked their beard. “A revolution doesn’t need a Constellation. Every oppressed individual carries the light of revolution within them.”

Sung-Woon pondered for a moment. He thought through the Sanctuary,

Then he agreed, “That might be true.”

Sung-Woon turned and walked away, his hands in his pockets. The rusty floor creaked.

Sarcho looked back, “Leaving already?”

“There’s not much time.”

“I was hoping you’d take that unsightly junk with you.” Sarcho gestured toward the Star Spear behind them.

Sung-Woon looked back and smiled, “That’s a gift for Avartin.”

“That monstrosity?” .𝒎

Sung-Woon replied, “As time passes, Avartin will become small. Then, as the secularists feared, the Hall of Myriad Stars’s power alone won’t be enough to protect all mortals of Avartin. Faith will diminish. Then, as you wished, you’ll have to strive for what you want with your own strength. Today the Hall of Myriad Stars has won, but time is on your side. One day, the day you desire will come.”

Sarcho’s eyes widened.

“When that day comes, a ladder to escape the narrow Avartin will be needed. That Star Spear will be helpful then… Rockets are too expensive, aren’t they?”

Sarcho looked at the Star Spear in a new light. A tower piercing the atmosphere, never to crumble. Infinite possibilities unfolded in Sarcho’s mind.

Sarcho turned again to look for Sung-Woon, but Sung-Woon had already disappeared.

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