Ch.356The Road to Huren Plains (1)

“Current speed. 330 kilometers per hour. Engine output normal.”

“Clouds visible ahead. Let’s increase altitude.”

“Relaying command to engine room: Increase altitude by about 130 meters. Clouds ahead.”

Communications continued to flow through the bridge of the Sky Warden.

Though they weren’t in combat at the moment, guiding this unnaturally massive 1-million-ton airship safely to its destination required thousands of exchanges every day.

Well aware of this, the control officers on the bridge were steering the Sky Warden toward the Huren Plains without breaking a sweat, even under their lord’s watchful gaze.

“So the Terius continent is coming to an end. Time really flies.”

“Indeed it does.”

The endless sky visible through the bridge’s observation windows, along with the tiny settlements and streams passing below, provided a stark reminder of just how enormous and fast the Sky Warden truly was.

The Walker couple stood on the bridge gazing at the sky, silently watching their journey toward the Huren Plains, the final landmark of the Terius continent.

“My lord.”

Just then, a voice called from behind.

The Sun turned around to see a soldier standing there.

“What is it?”

“The dwarf brothers wish to see you, my lord.”

“Berkman and Hawkman?”

“Yes.”

The Sun was puzzled by the dwarves’ summons but quickly dismissed it as nothing serious. After all, party members might simply want to see their party leader’s face occasionally.

Even if that wasn’t the reason, if they were calling for him, he suspected some trouble had arisen.

“Where are they now?”

“Waiting in their quarters, sir.”

“Very well. I’ll go now.”

Victor left his wife on the bridge and made his way to the dwarves’ quarters.

A natural question arose in his mind: why had they called for him? If it concerned engineering or technology, there would be no reason to call Victor…

Lost in thought, Victor finally arrived at the workshop (which also served as quarters) where the dwarves stayed. After hesitating briefly, he knocked and called out to them.

“Berkman, Hawkman. I heard you called for me.”

After a moment of silence, the dwarves’ voices responded.

“Ah! Our Sun has arrived. Come in, come in!”

Upon hearing this, Victor opened the door and was immediately shocked.

*

“What on earth is all this…?”

Seeing Victor’s genuinely confused expression, the dwarves sighed and began raking up the letters scattered across the floor.

“What else? They’re letters.”

“This many letters? I didn’t realize you were so well-connected.”

“As if! These are all from opportunists trying to leech off us. Our faces got famous following you around.”

While the Sky Warden regularly landed at landmarks, making it possible to deliver letters, the sheer volume of these letters was unreasonably large. Victor soon discovered why.

Brrrrrr! Brrrrrr!

“Is that…?”

“A fax machine. Ah… here we go again.”

Indeed, letters were continuously pouring in to the dwarf brothers via fax.

Since they relied on the Sky Warden for transportation, they couldn’t change their phone number, so they had no choice but to receive the faxes as they came.

“Sigh… take a look.”

“Hmm…”

Victor accepted the freshly printed, warm fax and began reading its contents, soon furrowing his brow.

Orichalcum.

Not just this one, but nearly all the faxes scattered across the floor were requests to part with some orichalcum.

“Huff… when did this start?”

“About 3-4 months ago. It wasn’t this bad at first… but it got like this over time.”

“At first, we politely wrote back saying no, but it didn’t help.”

“Tsk…”

Victor clicked his tongue and turned off the fax machine.

Important messages might come through, but what in the world could be more important than making a pilgrimage with the Sun?

Besides, this wasn’t an era where orichalcum was impossible to obtain. With a bit of effort, one could purchase orichalcum at a reasonable price.

“Burn or throw away all these letters. They’re from people willing to sell out their own kind to save money. Not worth responding to. This isn’t the 1100s… you can buy orichalcum or mythril if you just pay for it, what nonsense is this!”

Victor, rarely showing anger, tore up the letter viciously.

While the beggar’s mentality of trying to obtain precious materials by exploiting kinship was bad enough, he couldn’t help but be angered by their pathetic dedication, sending fax after fax despite being ignored.

“What a waste of electricity, paper, and ink for these faxes. If they had saved that money, they could have been holding an orichalcum ingot by now!”

With those words, Victor used his power to incinerate all the papers strewn about the room.

“I’ll be going now. If this happens again, tell me immediately. Understood?”

“Y-yes…”

The dwarves, momentarily overwhelmed by the divine presence, nodded, and Victor, calming his anger, left the room. He stopped a passing soldier and said:

“I’ll be dining with the Sage this evening, so prepare alcohol and appetizers.”

“Yes, my lord.”

*

That evening.

Though Simon suddenly found himself a drinking companion for Victor’s venting session, he didn’t seem to mind.

It was well known that scholars, both past and present, enjoyed their alcohol.

“You’re gradually developing the dignity of a sovereign.”

Simon, having heard about the day’s events from the dwarves, poured a drink and boasted.

“We’re nearing the end of the eighth continent. Only a few years left.”

“A few years used to feel so long, but now it feels like just a moment…”

“Welcome to the world of immortals.”

Inside the captain’s quarters, Simon and Victor were relieving their fatigue over drinks.

In truth, how much fatigue could a god like Victor and an immortal like Simon actually feel? But since no one aboard the Sky Warden would dare question a god and an immortal about such matters, they could enjoy their drinking session without interruption.

Clink!

With the sound of clinking glasses, apple-scented brandy swirled down their throats.

A tangy aroma spread through Victor’s mouth, but the usual intoxication that followed didn’t come—at least not for him.

“It seems the only thing I’ve lost since becoming a god is the ability to get drunk.”

“Hehehe. Isn’t that how it is for all high-ranking individuals? But by now you must know that the results of these drinking sessions… can determine the beginning and end of wars.”

“Damn. I can’t deny that.”

For men at least, being able to drink a lot is considered a good thing. It indicates a fast alcohol metabolism rate, which can indirectly prove good health, and in some macho and primitive cities or countries, the ability to drink well alone can earn great respect.

In business and politics too, sharing drinks allowed one to discover hidden truths or lies, so having a high alcohol tolerance meant more opportunities for information exchange.

“It’s truly troublesome, governing the world. Arrogant as it may sound, I suppose I have the right to say so.”

“Indeed you do. If not you, who else could claim the right to govern the world?”

Establishing an empire isn’t something one can do—it’s something one must do.

Victor’s ultimate goals are to save Nariakira Saburo and Maria Taylor, who are burning for humanity’s sake; to create a great lighthouse on earth powered by universal devotion to replace the sun; and to reunite fragmented humanity to end the suffering of the current era.

To achieve these three objectives, the emergence of a unified world government represented by the Victorian Empire was essential, and for the salvation of the sun, Victor, as the human-god, needed to ascend the throne and take responsibility for carrying out all these tasks for an unfathomable amount of time.

This was his inescapable duty and undeniable right, and Victor would willingly accept his destiny.

The fact that catastrophes like the Age of Eclipse occur when those with duty, responsibility, rights, and power go astray was known not just to the Sun God but even to well-educated children.

“Very well. Then all that remains is to complete the pilgrimage.”

“When we reach the Huren Plains, this fatigue will dissipate too. You won’t have much to do there anyway.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Just as shadows grow deeper and longer in brighter light, the most heinous crimes often occur in peaceful rural villages.

Of course, the Huren Plains only had a peaceful atmosphere—it was actually a major city with a population of one million, so crimes like rural gang violence would be rare… but as always, there were things one could never know until experiencing them firsthand.