The farewell was grand, with both the Sylvanians and Tech Gobs in attendance.
First, we set off from the Kingdom of the Rabbits heading towards Tiamat 25, where we would join the small goblin warriors and proceed to the Holy Capital. However, I was quite surprised to see that both groups had almost all their able members gathered for the send-off.
A large crowd lined up to bid us farewell, presenting a spectacle of grandeur.
The Sylvanians leapt in perfect unison, and the Tech Gobs brandished their weapons, raising a war cry.
The people of Rustiagis were somewhat anxious about my departure, but when I assured them that the supply distribution was automated, they regained their calm.
Of course, I warned the remaining warriors not to neglect hunting just because supplies would still be available.
Thus, having been grandly sent off, we embarked on our journey with Selene’s highly sensitive drone leading the way. Our formation consisted of twenty people guiding fourteen mechanical wolves.
We paid little attention to maintaining precise formation since we were trekking through the forest where anomalies, if present, had ceased functioning, and there were no threats to attack us. Hence, even in a long column, there were no vulnerabilities.
At the center, seven machines pulled the baggage, and two brought up the rear, alert for threats, as we managed to cross the forest in less than half a day.
Indeed, the four-legged creatures displayed remarkable agility, easily navigating through intertwining tree roots and uneven rocks. Thanks to the six-legged insectoid-shaped cargo platforms, the convoy’s off-road capability was greatly enhanced, able to maintain a cruising speed that sufficed even if they couldn’t keep up with top speeds.
“■■■… This open space feels uneasy.”
Upon emerging from the forest onto the grassland, Ridelberdy muttered a curse.
The wide-open plains, a reminder of past harpy troubles, were akin to a death zone for the Tech Gobs. Although I explained that the threats had been neutralized, they remained wary, their hands on their guns as they frequently peeked around, restless.
Conversely, the Sylvanians, accustomed to this speed, seemed to revel in the wind, leisurely holding their upper bodies up to embrace it. Swift acceleration and steady cruising allowed them to evade predators; hence this pace was quite pleasant for them.
“Galatea, how long until we reach the furthest frontier under the jurisdiction of the Canopy Holy Capital?”
“From here, if we use Gear Caribou, it will take five days… However, if we can maintain this speed, we should arrive the day after tomorrow. That should be about the distance from the last supply station.”
I see, so the nation functions under an estate system rather than autonomous independent villages. If the noble or steward responsible for these estates is reasonable, that would be helpful. Ultimately, it boils down to the reach of Lord Magius Geanaite’s influence.
We kept running until dusk. Eventually, we found shade and took a break.
We erected tents, stretched tarps to create a command post, and gathered supplies to prepare our rest area. The Tech Gobs assigned to resupply cooked the rations in the pot—though it can be eaten cold, warm meals indeed boost morale—while the rabbits grazed on tender grass nearby in a sweet and endearing manner.
Meanwhile, I munched on high-calorie tablets and examined a map constructed from aerial photos taken by Selene, studying the terrain.
“Hmm, upon closer inspection, this seems to be a vast plateau with a great plain.”
What we believed to be an expansive plain, including our observation post, the Kingdom of the Rabbits, and the Tech Gobs’ forest, was, in fact, a massive plateau with noticeable elevation differences based on the horizon’s undulations.
Sharp peaks stretched toward the north, while what appeared to be a swampy forest lay to the south. To the east, where we were headed, the plains gently descended for several days.
“Galatea, judging by the map, it seems moving north might be faster.”
“That won’t work, Nozomu. The Edge Seat Mountain Range is not only harsh but also composed of brittle rock, and the snow won’t melt until summer. It’s dangerous, regardless of the wolves’ off-road abilities.”
I see, so it has to be an arc-shaped path descending from the plateau and heading north.
Assuming that the continent’s shape hasn’t changed much in two thousand years—unless massive terrain modification equipment was used—the Canopy Holy Capital must be located at the heart of the continent.
The old map data aligns with this during the era when all satellites were operational, and it appears they have established the city in an excellent location.
Though slightly basin-like, it boasts good drainage, stable ground with no earthquake risks. There are also large rivers that support bustling trade via riverboats, indicative of economic prosperity.
Our approach to creating an environment conducive to development across the land has largely been casual, leaving it to the owners to modify as they like. It appears the location has been meticulously reshaped in the era post the communication band pollution, by strategically laying out river networks to propagate greenery and carefully connecting it with the sea—a rather challenging task indeed.
That said, it doesn’t mean I’ll reassess the people who slaughtered my kin just for that.
“So, our green plateau remains relatively undeveloped despite its abundance, because travel is difficult, and there aren’t navigable rivers for riverboats.”
“I see. But there are development estates, right?”
“They’re frontier areas where those who lost political disputes and have nowhere else to go end up. It was the Exgiel Border Territory, wasn’t it?”
The Canopy Holy Capital might be a much larger nation than I initially thought. I’d assumed it was a city-state that developed around the wreckage of a crashed spaceship, but with a noble system in place—though it could be a translation format issue—and if they possess a population that seeks exile, it suggests they are not a small country.
There’s a possibility that it could have a population of over 100,000, or even a million.
Or, considering its size, it might be a nation with tens of millions.
This negotiation will be tough. Using my status as the sole survivor of the expedition might help, but how long it will take to connect me with the higher-ups is uncertain.
“By the way, Nozomu?”
“Yes?”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Huh? What?” Tipping my head, I followed her finger to find her pointing at the multi-purpose mechanical arms strapped to my back via harnesses.
The three pairs of six delicate prosthetic limbs are typically folded and stored on my back but extend with precision and dexterity unmatched by human arms. I had extended three of them to annotate the map, and one held a cigarette, but it seemed quite horrifying to Galatea.
“Machine hands can’t control force very well, right? My former knight mentor had a gear arm and crushed several goblets in the early days of practice. He said it was scary to even scratch his nose, let alone bring it close to his face.”
It’s true that manipulating a neural interface without a proper electronic brain would take significant time to adjust, making control difficult. However, my work equipment has normal software installed, allowing for smooth operation.
For intricate tasks, it’s even more suitable than the overly thick human fingers.
“It’s just a matter of getting used to it, isn’t it?”
I demonstrated by scratching my cheek with the machine arm, and Galatea recoiled with alarm.
Indeed, the maximum pressure of my sub-arm is 200 kg, and operating such powerful machinery near my face might seem incredibly dangerous to someone unaware of its precision.
…though, upon reflection, while they lack electronic brains, they do possess photon crystals, and an OS that could allow normal software installations…
If they wanted to, they could become just as capable as me at handling such equipment. Installing an FCS would drastically improve weapon accuracy, and using IFF would prevent accidental friendly fire. The technology could elevate their skills to the maximum. However, using Galatea as a specimen wouldn’t be appropriate, and the lack of proper medical facilities means I’d rather not proceed down that path.
“But, if having two extra arms doubles or even triples what a human can do, I could help provide one for you if you’d like.”
“I’ll pass… I’m not very dexterous, so it might not be for the best.”
Her refusal was a clear blow to my ego, leaving me a bit disheartened. Was it odd to even mention it?
“Captain, I apologize for interrupting your melancholy, but I have a report.”
“What is it?”
“The communication relay station installation has been completed.”
“Great, thank you. I’ll go check it out.”
She seemed to feel the cultural disparity in my casual use of machinery. I left Galatea in the command tent and headed toward the marker on Selene’s map.
There stood a magnificent solitary beech tree.
“Hold on to the tree now,” I said while using my sub-arm to climb it, confirming that a device had been properly installed between the thick trunk and branches. This was a compact communication relay device, integrated with solar panels and a drone recharging unit, resembling an egg carton with four spherical drones housed inside.
This equipment was prepared to maintain continuous communication with Selene at the base by placing them at regular intervals—since the drones are sub-units, the main unit still resides at the base. With the drones rotating every few hours to hover in place, communication links are maintained continuously.
What used to be resolved by launching a single satellite now requires significantly more work.
The material use and the time spent on three-dimensional shaping machines can’t be ignored, but I’d rather endure these inconveniences than risk complete isolation.
“Having one of these will cover communication issues for about two days’ worth of travel radius.”
“Yes, though there will be a lag of a few decimal seconds per each unit, since these are radio communications. We’re already dealing with about a four-second delay.”
“Ugh… Light really is slow to react, isn’t it?”
Quantum communication equipment would allow seamless communication with Selene without any lag, but wishing for what doesn’t exist is futile. One the Three Primal Saints also once mentioned: we must execute jobs with the available materials. If we desire too much, we attract consequences. Thus, I turned on the power for the plain, crude egg-shaped device and sent a relay drone into the air.
It should automatically handle charging and rotation to maintain the connection with the base.
Well, unless other winged anomalies interfere; all we can do is pray that they don’t get shot down.
“Three Primal Saints, please watch over our journey. We shall follow the teachings of Saint R.A. Heinlein.”
“Wait… Captain, are you a follower of Saint Heinlein? I thought you generally prayed for all sorts of divine favor?”
“No, in situations like this, praying to Saint A.C. Clarke would seem to invite challenges for tomorrow, and Saint Isaac Asimov’s approach tends to deliver mysterious and complex issues.”
Hence, I primarily pray to Saint Heinlein, who tends to favor happy endings regardless of the situation.
Of course, like any mechanized person, I equally venerate the Three Primal Saints. However, when seeking divine favor, don’t you know?
“Aaaaah?! What on earth are you doing up there, Nozum!?”
“Whoa, what is it, Galatea?!”
“Get down! Hurry up and come down! How dare you climb without using your hands or feet!”
As I bowed in prayer—our religion is quite a mix here—I heard a shrill shout from below. It seems Galatea, worried about my delayed return, had followed. So why was she shouting?
Could it be because I’m climbing using only my sub-arms?
Thus, at the ripe operational age of 245, I found myself scolded for climbing a tree—an oddly fresh experience indeed…
And with that, today’s five-part consecutive updates have come to an end.
Due to quite a backlog, there will be three consecutive updates on July 21st, 2024.
Updates will begin at 15:00 as they did today, then continue hourly. Thank you for your continued support.
