Whistling cheerfully while toying with the pack of wolves, I received a communication from Selene.
“Captain, are you really going?”
Her voice sounded quite dubious, and it was far from calm.
“What else would I do if I don’t go?”
Though the object was unspecified, I fully understood what she meant.
Given the vast expansion of our operational range, it seems she’s reluctant about my urgent need to go to the Holy Capital.
In truth, thanks to our capability to create pack wolves and acquire manpower, our operational range has expanded fifty to a hundred times compared to before.
After all, these things have an average cruising speed of 80 km/h and a top speed of 220 km/h. They can carry loads up to 600 kg in pure weight, which makes for a remarkably powerful payload. When several units form a squadron, it’s possible to traverse a thousand or more kilometers in a day depending on the road.
Besides, the pack wolves themselves are equipped with artificial quasi-intelligence—essentially old-generation AI—which allows them to continue running to their destination even while I’m asleep. All you have to do is give them the destination, and Sylvanian or Tech Gob individuals can now serve as scouts far away, allowing for exploration of countless places without traveling for months on end.
“But, there are twenty-six observational bases, terraforming stations, and temporary outposts that fall within our exploration range.”
“Still, none of them are equipped with significant infrastructure. None can produce a device capable of countering gravity necessary for reaching space.”
“Yes, but…”
Cross-referencing with ancient maps, there are over twenty-six bases that we can reach and return to within a week. However, none of them have manufacturing facilities superior to our own. Most of the terraforming stations scattered about are unmanned and have likely long since decayed due to lack of oversight.
But still, considering the potential availability of raw materials and factory parts, the value of making the trip isn’t entirely dismissible, though the payoff is likely minimal.
“Thus, it’s preferable to prioritize the Holy Capital with its undeniably massive factory.”
Given our functional immortality, we excel at moving slowly and methodically. One could say we should thoroughly explore those places first before proceeding.
However, the situation is different now because the Holy Capital is on the brink of crisis.
After all, this “dragon” thing is a super-large life form surpassing several dozen meters in length. Several outskirts of the Holy Capital have fallen, and tens of thousands have perished.
As lovers of intelligence entities, it’s only natural we’d want to protect them.
“But Captain, it’s too dangerous!”
“As long as I remain within the confines of this prosthetic body, the danger remains unchanged. Even in the worst-case scenario, if a Type-B prosthetic becomes available, it would be worth exploring the candidate bases, but none of them have the capability to produce them.”
Prosthetic bodies are an assemblage of precision machinery, not something you can create anywhere.
Moreover, for us mechanized humans or multi-intelligence entities, when our bodies are destroyed, it’s actually faster and safer to bring back just the skullcaps and have them reinstalled at a specialized factory. We don’t set up factories everywhere due to the excessive cost and lack of availability of technicians for every location.
Of course, factories can be automated, and quasi-intelligence can handle prosthetic fittings, but we simply haven’t needed to go that far.
After all, the total participation of mechanized humans in the Second Secondary Seedship Fleet is fewer than two thousand.
Automated technology indeed has its drawbacks. The integrated military owns a fleet surpassing four million ships, but in reality, there were fewer than 500,000 troops, including ground combatants. Factoring in the homeland defense forces of various Ring Worlds, we might barely exceed one million.
Our military power is vast, but the majority consists of automated spacecraft and drones where human oversight is sufficient. The structure has naturally evolved this way over time.
Therefore, places capable of maintaining prosthetic bodies are limited. The only facilities capable of producing them from scratch are enormous factory ships like Tiamat 25.
“There’s no chance of digging up usable prosthetics from ancient structures, and even if we did, they’d likely be unusable due to deterioration.”
“That is true…”
“Additionally, our bodies, now powered by new energy, can never return to their original form. Thus, it’s more meaningful to seek out places with even the slightest possibility.”
There are many sites that can produce parts, but the main production sites for wear-prone manipulators and critical components are still “above” us. In this respect, this Type D prosthetic body is truly exceptional. It can be reproduced with minimal equipment as long as DNA data is available; it’s inconvenient but highly productive or mysteriously so.
In essence, cultivating old human bodies is the easiest method, which, frankly, is a bit disappointing.
“Besides, unlike before, we’re now capable of creating backups, so there’s no need to be overly cautious.”
“If Tiamat 25’s facilities can manufacture power sources, creating my backup body will be simple at the original facility where Selene made the prosthetic cultivation device. Even if production takes one or two months, unlike before, there’s no need to endure for decades.”
With the number of available bodies increasing, there’s no need to overcomplicate matters. To be fair, military-grade brain shells seldom break apart, so there’s little reason to worry.
Let alone, even with all this equipment, we can’t produce the “Holy Lance.” So far, the only weapon capable of completely shattering my brain shell and photon crystals on the surface remains undiscovered, so no problem for now.
“Let’s approach this more casually, Selene. The quest has come to us. It’s like an open-world game on a global scale, and if we don’t rely on the clues, there’s no end.”
“Then, Captain, please take a more patient approach…”
Seeing Selene’s icon droop as if she’d been defeated, made me chuckle sympathetically as I gazed fondly at my “pack wolf.”
The bike-like tracked vehicle with big mono-headlights and legs fresh out of rollout sparkled in the dim brown armor. After finishing fitting and testing maneuvers just now, it was ready for immediate use.
When I sat on it in the cramped warehouse, wireless connection with the artificial quasi-intelligence was established, and a mechanical voice welcomed me onboard.
“Test operation. Control to me.”
“RJ. You have control, Lieutenant Matsuyoi.”
The main unit powered on slowly. I spun the front wheel which rotates 360° like a chair caster, completing what is known as a ultra-spin turn. Then it rushed forward until the front wheel almost hit the wall, stopping. It then shifted to reverse, braked sharply, and entered a wheelie state. The front legs swung around while stationary, reversing direction before landing smoothly. The tires squeaked against the ground, a sound that was reassuring and invigorating as the military spec performed flawlessly.
Yeah, I love the horses in Fantasy VR too, but the military models are certainly smoother to handle.
“Well, good work! Switch to auto-control.”
“Expected Lieutenant. I have control.”
Though slightly concerned about the first rollout, the factory on Tiamat 25 has done a great job. Once we mass-produce a few dozen of these, we can prepare for the expedition shortly.
[Master Nozomu]
[Huh? What is it?]
As I was satisfied with the work, a Sylvanian approached me. Recently, I’ve instructed them to call me by name, but most have refused out of respect, making it rare for one to follow my instruction. I appointed him as a close aide, calling him “Peter” personally.
[Mr. Ridelberdy has returned and wishes to see you.]
[Understood. Let him know I’ll come right away. Where is he now?]
[Before the “Great Mother,” conducting worship with the other children.]
Ah, I see, they need to prostrate themselves for worship before entering the “Great Mother,” huh? It’s a bit pitiful to make them do this every time, or rather, since it’s inconvenient for me to wait, we should set up a temporary base outside. Anyway, since it’s the ship being upright, everything taking place inside is inconvenient already.
Well, this is a good opportunity. Come, let me pick him up.
[Peter, take the back seat.]
[No, that’s too much…]
[This thing was designed for two. Don’t refuse.]
Upon command, Peter hesitantly climbed aboard behind me with his exoskeleton and gripped the leather straps tightly.
Regaining control of the command system, I tore through the ship’s corridors.
[It’s fast! Too fast! Scary!]
[You should get used to the speed! Being part of my retinue means you must master this.]
[I’m not listening to that nonsense!!]
Peter, desperately pleading, was holding on as the corridors flew past, and the machine jumped down vertical areas, reaching the entrance of the “Great Mother” in the blink of an eye.
Getting here was a hassle before, but having legs for rough terrain makes a real difference.
[Nozomu! You’ve arrived already?!]
[Ah, Ridelberdy. Take a look, this is the mechanical steed.]
Calling out during a worship service might break etiquette, but he instantly noticed my arrival through the opened door.
[Oh, oh… Is this…]
[Who might you be?]
[My name is Gengelgiz, the chief of the Bargengog Tribe.]
Judging by the wrinkled skin, the cloudy green camera eyes indicated the Tech Gob was rather old. He bowed respectfully.
Apparently, showing up on this mechanical steed had quite an impact.
[“Pure Male Deity,” it is an immense honor to meet you…]
When the embarrassing sobriquet surfaced, I shot a glare at Ridelberdy, who immediately looked away guiltily, as if to suggest that it was leaked and spread from somewhere else.
[Most grateful for your greetings, Lord Gengelgiz of Bargengog. So, is this visit regarding the discussion of your return?]
The Tech Gobs had once lived near Tiamat 25 before being chased away by the “Corrupted Male Deity” and its followers. Their tribe had also been unified.
Now, with the “Great Mother” being reclaimed, it’s likely that the split thirty-two tribes will gradually gather from their hiding spots.
I’ve prepared a strategy to prevent power struggles during this time.
[Yes. Believing in the words of the noble “Hero of the Great Mother” Ridelberdy, I rushed here immediately.]
Since I couldn’t stand being the only one saddled with a cringeworthy moniker, I bestowed an impressive nickname on him to be hailed as a hero.
This way, while the tribes would respect me as the one who reclaimed the “Great Mother,” they can look to him, who was personally esteemed by me, as their foremost leader.
Humans, at their core, are naturally inclined to favor their own kind, so although the tribes would celebrate the return of the “Great Mother,” it would not be satisfying if it was entirely presented as my own accomplishment. Thus, I decided to play politics subtly.
[Furthermore, on behalf of myself and several tribes, we would like to present you with a gift.]
[A gift? That’s very considerate. But I…]
[… present to you the banner of the once-great Rustiagis tribe.]
When I was handed a tattered banner stained with white blood, a slight feeling of foreboding hit me.
This is likely to complicate things significantly…
