Chapter 974 — Departure and Sparks

"Confirmed: the visitor has left the bounds of Tarlonde. Observation thread terminated; data entering the collation and archiving process."

The cursor at the end of the text blinked, as though pondering and hesitating, but soon the text continued to refresh line by line —

"What is the meaning of life —

"The answer of Gao Yang Cecil has been archived. Answer number: 177. Archiving complete.

"Comparative analysis with the previous 176 answers.

"Still no clear result. The replies given by humans or other intelligent beings remain ambiguous and full of contradictions.

"Still unable to determine whether this question is truly unanswerable."

The bright white text on the interface stopped refreshing, then faded little by little as the cursor blinked, the machine's thinking seemingly at an end, ordinary data returning to the center of the display.

Yet only a moment passed before a new thread was abruptly launched, and on the surface of another nearby pillar, a continuous stream of text began scrolling at breakneck speed—

"Based on Answer 177, a new question is derived:

"Is Omega in possession of 'life'?

"Attempting to define 'life'... attempting to broaden the definition... attempting to broaden the definition once more...

"Conclusion: if a dragon whose body is ninety percent machine qualifies as 'life,' then Omega may also be 'life.'

"Omega may be 'life.'"

The machines hummed quietly as they went about their work.

A batch of biomass waste from the Extreme Arena—material that should have been sent to the biochemical processing center for recycling or disposal—was intercepted, loaded into fresh containers, carried onto a transport train, and hauled toward an automated factory somewhere deep beneath the earth.

A batch of metal scrap not listed in the processing catalogue was fed into furnaces far underground, to be remade into fresh raw material.

A production sequence was secretly initiated, and the machines set busily to work.

Talongde today remained calm and untroubled.

...

Winter had come, and it seemed colder than in years past.

The cold wind set the banners atop Winterwolf Keep snapping and curling, the sturdy fabric cracking and rippling in the gusts. A column of black-armored soldiers marched in formation across the open ground below the walls, their boots striking the ground in perfect unison, beating out the rhythm of that bitter cold morning.

An Luo stood upon the towering walls of Winterwolf Keep, watching the knights of the order go about their duties, and the tightness in his face eased a little.

"The Iron River Knights have filled the gap left by the war god's priests after their withdrawal, and for Winterwolf Keep as it stands now, that has indeed made a world of difference," the young wolf general said, turning to look at the tall, black-haired, middle-aged man beside him. "I thank you for it, Count Moglorock."

"Obedience to orders is a knight's duty," said the commander of the Iron River Knights, High Knight Count Moglorock, his expression solemn. "And besides, Grand Duke Pei Yi once gave me his counsel—I am glad to be of service to Winterwolf Keep this time."

As he spoke, this seasoned noble officer, who commanded one of the Empire's mightiest corps of transcendents, could not help glancing again at the distant watchtowers and ramparts, a hint of worry creeping onto his face. "I heard that last night a priest on leave died under strange circumstances, and two acolytes living nearby went mad in their sleep... Is this true?"

"So it has reached your ears after all," An Luo said with a sigh he could not suppress. "It is just as you say—no, perhaps even more appalling. The priest who died so strangely turned into a monster and destroyed himself almost right before a watchman's eyes. A battle mage patrolling the priests' rest quarters heard the commotion and went to investigate, and caught sight of the priest's flesh twisting and deforming, dissolving in blood and some kind of smoke—he was nearly frightened half to death. As for the two acolytes who went mad—after analysis, experts in theology and spiritual thaumaturgy preliminarily suspect they were 'contaminated' by hearing the mutated priest's bizarre death-scream, and their minds mutated along with it."

Count Moglorock's face darkened.

"...Appalling," he said in a low voice.

"Unless you see it with your own eyes, ordinary people cannot imagine what a grotesque and terrifying sight it was," An Luo said with a nod. "The intelligence from the imperial capital is accurate—some kind of contamination based on the bond of faith is spreading on a massive scale among the war god's priests. It is a plague of the soul, and though I hate to speak such blasphemous words—it is plain that the god they worship cannot protect them from this plague."

Moglorock's face twitched, and a bitter smile surfaced at the corner of his mouth. "There are even those who say the god himself is the source of the plague..."

An Luo was silent for a few seconds, then could not help looking at the knight commander beside him. "Count Moglorock, as far as I know... you are also a follower of the war god, so this situation must be far from easy for you."

"Rest assured, before anything else I am a soldier of the Empire," Count Moglorock said, his expression stern. "True, it is unavoidable that soldiers are influenced by faith in the war god—more than two-thirds of our men are followers of the war god, both the lightly devout and the deeply faithful, and half our knights have received baptism from the war god's church. But still we stand firm here. It is indeed not easy, as you say, but I think our loyal knights and soldiers did not come to this cold frontier so far from home in search of ease."

"That is admirable," An Luo said earnestly.

Another gust of cold wind swept by, lifting the graying strands at her temples.

The young wolf general drew out a mechanical watch, glanced at the time, and said to Count Moglorock, "Pray excuse me—I must go preside over this morning's meeting."

Count Moglorock nodded with a smile. "By all means, General An Luo."

An Luo Wendell strode from the wall with brisk, vigorous steps. On the wind-whipped heights, only Moglorock remained, standing quietly where he was.

The count turned his head to watch the direction in which An Luo had departed, saw the young wolf general round a corner and vanish at the top of the stairs leading to the castle district, smiled, and turned to look in another direction beside him.

Malmu Dunite stood at his side, wearing a gentle, kindly smile.