Ch.340The Path to the Continent of Terius (2)

# Library.

In the library of the Sky Warden, the five Iron Worker party members were reviewing the four famous landmarks on the Terius continent.

“The first landmark… where great achievements were born is the Isabella Hospital.”

“A hospital? A structure was designated as a landmark?”

“During the Eclipse Era, this place specialized in isolating and treating victims of biochemical and biological weapons. What started as a field hospital kept expanding until it became the world’s largest hospital, capable of treating tens of millions of people in just an hour. Don’t you think a hospital of that size deserves landmark status?”

After Simon’s explanation, Hawkman, who had expressed doubt, fell silent.

“Next is… a religious landmark… ah, the Library.”

“The Library…”

This was the Great Library. As the birthplace and ascension site of Logos, it boasted overwhelming height and width—thanks to donations from believers of the Four Divine Gods faith—making the Layer Archive look like a mere neighborhood rental shop in comparison. It still maintained its title as the world’s largest structure.

Naturally, it was a den of knowledge where thousands of Apostles of Wisdom gathered. Its notoriety was such that if an ignorant high school graduate dared to step foot there, they would be cursed to become an eternal graduate student, endlessly revising their thesis.

“If we could receive a share of the knowledge from that place… it would be tremendously helpful.”

Viktor muttered this while looking at Simon.

The implication was clear: tell us about the next landmark.

“The historical landmark is… Truth City. This is where the formal agreement to end the civil war was made, and where the agreement (truce) to use the Extinction Calendar was reached. That’s why it’s called Truth City.”

“Hmm. I see.”

While the death of the last emperor ended an era, Viktor seemed more impressed that a new era was opened by the consensus of ordinary people. It taught that even in a world without superhumans, ordinary people could sufficiently fend for themselves.

“Then what’s the final landmark…?”

“The most beautiful place on the continent. It’s called the Huren Plains. Snow-capped mountains visible beyond the horizon. Low mountains covered with vegetation and flowers… multiple rivers flowing between mountain ranges. Apparently, it’s quite a pastoral place.”

“A pastoral place…”

On the Iron Worker’s pilgrimage—written as adventure but read as oath of allegiance—there were surprisingly few pastoral places.

Even landmarks famous for their beauty were all tourist destinations with urban areas spread out around them.

Of course, one could find healing in such places through hotel vacations, but Viktor—a cold city man by nature (no objections accepted)—harbored a subtle fantasy-like feeling about truly rural places where people tended cattle and farmed.

Thinking that perhaps all city-raised people felt the same way, Viktor rose from his seat, indicating he had heard enough. Soon, only Simon and the assistant librarians remained in the library.

*

It had been 1200 years since the end of the Eclipse Era and the beginning of the Extinction Calendar—over 13 centuries—but the ancient empire, the Nariakiran Empire, remained a massive shared past for all of humanity.

Despite having 13 continents, everyone shared the same language and writing system with only minor dialects and accents—a legacy of the empire. Another imperial legacy was how digging in almost any suitable location could unearth artifacts worth a fortune.

If everything related to the empire were to be removed from this world, it would likely trigger economic crises at least twenty times over—such was the empire’s tremendous influence even in modern times.

This was why most people, despite their anxiety, didn’t strongly oppose the newly established unified empire.

Since it bore the title of “empire” and “emperor,” the common people expected some benefits to trickle down to them.

And one could hardly blame them.

After all, what more could be expected from people who had neither the strength nor will to fight, except to calculate what benefits they might receive and act accordingly?

Compared to extremists who made radical choices due to fanatical ideologies, squandered their fortunes, or even lost their lives, these people were practically saints.

In ancient Earth’s Eastern cultures, there was apparently a custom of comparing rulers and governments to boats, and the people and public sentiment to water—which was quite apt. After all, a boat can only sail straight when there are no waves.

“How much further do we need to go?”

“Just one more week, sir.”

“Ten days… I understand.”

Viktor sighed deeply at the enormous inter-continental distance—ten more days ahead, making it two weeks total when added to the time they’d already traveled.

At 300 km/h, it took two weeks one way, so by ship, which was much slower, it would probably take a month each way.

If even upper-class individuals like Viktor, who owned personal flagships, were irritated by the long travel distances, how much more inconvenient must it be for ordinary citizens? If a ship sank in the vast ocean, there would be no way of knowing—people could only wring their hands in despair.

“When the empire is established, the first thing to build should be a maritime railway.”

“Pardon?”

“A maritime railway. Using technology like hyper tubes to travel between continents in just a few hours.”

“Hyper tubes, sir?”

“It’s a machine that accelerates trains inside huge vacuum tubes with tremendous force. Without air resistance, it can achieve incredible speeds.”

“Ah… such things don’t exist anymore?”

“Unfortunately not. The maintenance was too demanding. Maintaining a vacuum state underwater was beyond what could survive the Eclipse Era.”

As Viktor spoke, he had a small realization.

With the fall of the empire, technology had dramatically regressed, and humanity’s attitude toward accepting technology had become extremely conservative.

This was because humanity had already witnessed what catastrophic tragedies could result when technology was used destructively.

If the technology of the imperial era were to be reintroduced in the current Extinction Era, how would people react?

Until just a few minutes ago, Viktor had thought everyone would welcome it, but his conversation with his subordinate had given him insight.

Some might like it, but most people would surely hate it.

After all, the high efficiency brought by technology inevitably progresses from assisting humans to replacing them, which would turn urban youth—already struggling with unemployment—into enemies.

Even now, the baby factory technology of Scofield Plains was being criticized for “taking away women’s reason for existence,” so there was no guarantee that mass-producing white appliances (like washing machines or microwave ovens) wouldn’t face backlash for “stealing housewives’ jobs.”

Unmanned soldiers would turn soldiers into the unemployed, remote and mechanized operating tables would make doctors jobless, and administrative automation through artificial intelligence would bring despair to civil service exam candidates who had dedicated 20 years to their studies.

“Oh my…”

The fundamental contradiction of all advanced technologies was that technology meant for humans ended up excluding humans.

Machines were created to be used, but what purpose did they serve if there was no one to use them?

Viktor hadn’t noticed this problem earlier because he had only been surrounded by sages, Apostles of Wisdom, and people suffering unnecessarily due to low civilization levels (like Karluk).

If he had ascended to the throne without this realization and recklessly distributed transcendent technologies, society would have stratified: those who understood the technology would rise to the upper class, those who could operate it would form the middle class, and the vast majority—who neither understood the principles nor knew how to use it—would become the lower class, merely surviving on the surplus from production.

“Thank you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your question has opened my eyes. That attitude of questioning even a god without hesitation—that is what’s most important.”

“Pardon??”

“You shall receive a medal. Not for destroying something, not for creating something, but for giving me insight.”

“What???”

Having nearly brought about a terrible technocratic dystopia without any sense of caution, Viktor inwardly praised the soldier on the bridge who had fearlessly questioned even a god.

Sometimes, human salvation came not from gods but from human hands.