Ch.331The Cradle of Life. Orkran Swamp (1)

The Iron Worker party, now reduced to five members, left their regrets behind and began heading toward the Okran Swamp aboard the newly restored Sky Warden.

The Okran Swamp is the most renowned attraction in Hurichel.

Its fame stems from the medicinal herbs and plant extracts found in the swamp, with exports accounting for 23% of the entire GDP of the Hurichel continent.

Human nature, both past and present, desires to live long without illness. To achieve this, medicine and pharmacology had to develop.

The Okran Swamp, fully utilizing its wetland characteristics, was a massive greenhouse cultivating an enormous variety of medicinal herbs. It was so vast that new species of herbs were still being discovered with surprising frequency.

Naturally, multinational corporations couldn’t help but focus their attention on Hurichel’s Okran, resulting in massive human and material resources being allocated to the swamp’s research complex.

Currently, out of its 15 million inhabitants, 13 million were researchers or pharmaceutical company employees, while the remaining 2 million were doctors or those with doctoral degrees.

And to serve them, it’s said that over 30 million transient visitors (mostly adventurers) visit the Okran Swamp each year.

“A swamp… I’ve heard it’s dangerous, but I’ve never been to one.”

“You’re a god, so it shouldn’t be particularly dangerous for you, right?”

“I’m fine, but the dwarves are the problem. They’re short, so if they fall into the swamp, they could drown instantly.”

“Well, thanks for the concern, but we’re Aura users too, you know.”

After the brief exchange, hearty laughter followed. The conversation was just a joke from the beginning.

What business would they have entering the swamp anyway? If anyone dared to let swamp slime touch a god, executing everyone for blasphemy wouldn’t be unreasonable.

“Still, I’d like to see it once. I’ve never been to a swamp before. Is it similar to a sewer?”

“It’s much cleaner than a sewer, but more dangerous. As you said, short women or dwarves would find it difficult to traverse. Being short, they can’t easily grab onto surrounding objects. Once you fall in, it’s hard to get out even with considerable strength.”

“Hmm…”

Listening to Simon’s words, Viktor recalled his time working in a grain silo.

The port had silos for storing grain from other continents. The finely ground grain powder often clumped together due to the moisture-laden sea air. Inside the silo, long poles were used to stir and break up these clumps to ensure the grain powder flowed properly. If the powder suddenly gave way, the upper layer could collapse instantly, so workers had to secure themselves with ropes.

Without a rope, Viktor had countless near-death experiences where he almost suffocated, buried in grain powder that sucked him in like quicksand. Once his contract ended, he never looked back at that job. Even back then, work that posed risks beyond his control was threatening to him.

“On second thought, I don’t particularly want to visit.”

“If that’s how you feel, the locals would welcome it. They won’t have to worry about a god’s sacred body falling into the swamp.”

“But what would happen if you baked a swamp? Would it turn into one big brick?”

“Who knows? There doesn’t seem to be any record of anyone having such an idea before.”

When the dwarf brothers said this, Viktor also became curious.

If you baked a swamp, would it really turn into a brick the size of the swamp?

*

Year 1203, Month 14, Day 15.

Just one day away from the Okran Swamp.

The repaired Sky Warden had undergone several upgrades during its maintenance, with the most significant being to the lower flight deck.

This area was vulnerable to impacts due to its unavoidable exposure to the outside. To improve this, the flight deck was pushed as far inward as possible, and the exposed parts were reinforced with armor plating.

Thanks to this, the Sky Warden could now more safely store 1,001 shuttles, providing at least minimal security against anti-aircraft fire from the ground.

There were many other improvements as well, with the most notable being the ground-targeting cannons installed on the lower deck.

These were 8-inch (203mm) main guns, smaller than the 460mm caliber, but given their vertical firing trajectory toward the ground, it was more advantageous to focus on projecting firepower over a wider area rather than increasing the caliber.

Originally focused only on battles with other airships and intercepting attack aircraft, the Sky Warden had now become an all-weather, all-purpose vessel capable of ground attacks as well, learning from the lessons of the previous battle.

“It’s like raising a child. Every time there’s an accident, something new gets added…”

“Still, isn’t it better than getting hit like before? There aren’t many ships that can attack both ground and air!”

“True, Hawkman. How many ships could be better than this Sky Warden?”

When it came to vehicles, bigger was always better.

For cars, larger engines and more suspension components meant better maneuverability and ride comfort. For ships, larger size meant better seaworthiness, greater resistance to rough seas, and more cargo capacity.

The same applied to aircraft—larger size allowed for better engines, more cargo, and more passengers, following the same principles as cars and ships.

“Now it’s 1.3 million tons… What happens if it exceeds 2 million tons? Gas cells alone won’t be enough, I think.”

“Just add anti-gravity devices?”

“Ah.”

Come to think of it, that was an option. Viktor made a face suggesting he hadn’t thought of it at all, causing the dwarf brothers to burst into laughter.

“The Sun God is surprisingly old-fashioned. Sometimes you don’t know the most obvious things.”

“Well, I’m not an industry expert. Now I’m in a position to hire experts. That’s the difference between a practitioner and a policymaker.”

“We’ve become victims of power harassment!”

Leaving behind the dramatic Berkman, Viktor silently observed the working parts of the engine room, diligently generating power.

Machines always brought stability. His experience working at construction sites because he found tower cranes fascinating hadn’t gone to waste.

Above all, machines had consistency.

When broken, machines stop. When there’s work to be done, machines run.

And when their purpose is fulfilled, they are dismantled, reforged, and remade into tools for other purposes.

This clarity was incomparable to humans who, born simply because they were conceived, wander in search of purpose. The direction in which those gears turn never changes. They were designed that way, positioned to perform their predetermined actions infinitely.

But machines have limitations. Their passivity—the inability to find purpose on their own—is one such limitation. While humanity can find life’s purpose through wandering, pilgrimage, and travel, machines cannot. If they could, they would merely be humans made of gears and screws.

Machines were tools.

Tools to achieve a purpose.

Then, aren’t gods who exist for humanity also tools, and therefore machines?

Watching the continuously moving drive components, Viktor began to think about the purpose and reason for a god’s existence.

If humanity ever evolves to the point where even divine blessings become unnecessary, what would happen to the deities of this world?

And what about the stars in the night sky?

He couldn’t answer.

He couldn’t. Even searching through all his memories as Nariakira Saburo, he found no answer to this question.

If questions only deepen and answers don’t emerge, what becomes of humanity’s future?

He couldn’t answer.

If even the empire he would establish couldn’t claim to be eternal, is humanity’s spiritual evolution even possible?

“My lord!”

Then, from behind him, a voice shattered his contemplation.

“It’s mealtime. Your wife is waiting.”

“Ah… right.”

He wasn’t hungry.

But knowing better than anyone that he needed to eat, he followed his subordinate back to the captain’s quarters.

Someday, even this command might cease, but for now, his senses were still alive, finding satisfaction in chewing and swallowing food.

Though aware that it was gradually fading, he ate because it was merely faint, not void. Compared to the impending numbness, even faintness was closer to a blessing.

He was slowly becoming a machine. Becoming the largest gear turning the massive machine that is the world.

And someday, that machine would need a new gear.