Ch.404Resistance Light. Ortolan City (1)

Viktor’s mood was incredibly mixed.

To use a food analogy, it was like eating rolled eggs where one piece is bland and another is so salty it’s inedible, but the person who made it claims that if you average it all out, the seasoning is just right.

Simply put, after seeing the soldiers of the ancient empire, he had begun to reconsider his thoughts about the Nariaki Empire.

Until now, Viktor had believed the ancient empire was a nation that deserved to perish—one that had used up its predetermined lifespan with no possibility of revival. And for good reason. It wasn’t just that it had fallen; it had left behind the Era of Solar Eclipse, a massive 50,000-year mess. Every time he encountered remnants of that era, he couldn’t help but have a negative impression, even if it was the nation he himself had established.

However, there must have been righteous people remaining in such an empire. How many soldiers like the 1173rd Group of the 1.5 million who, while abandoning loyalty to their nation, tried to save innocent civilians?

The end of the ancient empire was by no means beautiful. The Era of Solar Eclipse, with its 50,000 years of civil strife, stands as a horrific example. And every time Viktor saw the enormous scars left by that era, he couldn’t help but question: “Did the ancient empire truly need to fall?”

Of course, in its final years, the empire suffered under the tyranny of an imperial court that had lost touch with reality. The people, exhausted by the sun and moon that never answered their prayers, eventually lost their support and fell into a state of anomie. But even that desolate late-period situation was practically heaven compared to the Era of Extinction.

The public sentiment couldn’t have been so harsh as to willingly shatter the alluring title of “Unified Human Government.” Looking at the wounds left on this world, the Era of Solar Eclipse seemed less like an inevitable conclusion and more like a deliberate act of destruction.

Whether the agents were angry citizens or cunning ministers, it’s all meaningless history now. But the opportunity for the imperial system to persist must have existed.

Viktor sat quietly, fondling his wife’s breast while recalling the ancient empire’s legacies that still remained.

From massive arcologies that could never be restored with current technology and required trillions of lives to build, to monopole magnets and room-temperature superconductors that even neighborhood children could create as science experiments… The empire’s legacies were abundant, but these were the only ones that came to mind immediately.

The past cannot return—that’s why it’s the past. Humanity’s glorious technologies and civilizations of old were destroyed, lost, and forgotten through destruction and hatred.

Could they be restored? Should they be restored? Were these technologies only necessary in the imperial era when basic survival was already solved? What could be accomplished with the capital and time it would take to restore just one technology?

Questions of efficiency followed one after another.

Not all technologies created during the imperial era had tremendous potential. Isn’t it difficult to imagine that high-polygon rendering technology, conceived to more realistically depict the stockings of voluptuous female characters, would bring innovation to the world?

Moreover, at least nominally, all the empire’s major technologies had been “somehow” restored by the 1200s of the Era of Extinction.

However, this restoration was quite ambiguous… For example, to create item A, technology B was needed, and B had been restored.

One might think, “Then what’s the problem? It’s all done.” But technology B incorporated technologies C and D, and because C and D were only awkwardly restored, item A ended up being imperfectly reconstructed.

For instance, something that should have weighed 10kg ended up weighing 20kg, or its performance fell short of catalog specifications.

It was exactly like developing countries trying to imitate advanced nations’ products, only to end up with outrageously expensive items of dubious quality.

But they could somehow follow along, imitate, and the core technology itself was 100% restored. It was just painfully evident that 300,000 years of accumulated expertise and know-how had evaporated.

*

As night fell, lights from villages and cities inhabited by humans began to twinkle beneath the Sky Warden.

With the ground’s topography barely distinguishable in the darkness, it looked like glitter sprinkled on black paper—a scenery where stars existed both above and below.

A sea of lights below, a sea of stars above. The Sky Warden was wedged between these two seas, leisurely riding the wind toward the primordial light—isn’t this the true taste of adventure?

“The alcohol goes down so smoothly!”

And such a magnificent view couldn’t be complete without alcohol.

The members of the Iron Walker Party were determined to empty all the apple brandy on the ship, as if planning to drink themselves into oblivion.

After all, this long pilgrimage would end in just another year or two. They weren’t simply going home—two of them had emperor and empress positions waiting for them—so they judged that the time for carefree drinking was running short.

“Come on! One more glass!”

Glug, glug, glug…

And so, with alcohol flowing and snacks disappearing, the captain’s quarters—or more accurately, the commander’s room, since it was originally a warship—had transformed into a tavern.

The only snacks were jerky, cheese, and crackers, but that was enough. They were here to enjoy the alcohol; if they had wanted fine dining, duty officers would be rubbing their eyes and stirring pots by now.

Munch. Munch.

Viktor put a cheese-topped cracker in his mouth as a palate cleanser, then immediately moistened his mouth with the refilled brandy.

“Ahh. This is it.”

Brandy is expensive, and there’s little room for disagreement on that. Regardless of quality, brandy itself is made by distilling already-made beverages like wine or cider. Making alcohol from alcohol inevitably makes it expensive.

If the world’s drinkers knew he was downing apple brandy like beer, half of them would die of envy. Especially if they knew his beautiful wife Raisha was pouring it for him.

“Damn. I’m starting to understand why emperors loved luxury so much. When you can’t even freely hold modest feasts like this, it’s natural for the mind to become twisted.”

“But you’re different, aren’t you? They were human, but you’re a god.”

“I have to be different. At least until the day the sun falls, I must remain alive.”

Viktor laughed as he emptied his last brandy in one gulp.

The pleasant apple scent lingered at the tip of his nose. The days when he could freely enjoy such fragrances were numbered.

Though it was for all of humanity, it was truly a sad thing.

*

Year 1204 of the Era of Extinction, Month 15, Day 16.

At last, the Iron Walker Party and the Army of the Sun could see the city of Ortolan with their own eyes.

Though they were still hours away from arrival, Ortolan’s air force had already attached themselves to the Sky Warden like sticky rice cakes, providing close protection.

“It’s the largest city I’ve ever seen. Four times the size of Faerus Vale, they say?”

“That’s just in terms of population. The actual scale is probably larger, but we should consider the floating population too.”

“Hmm. I suppose so.”

Viktor stretched his wife’s soft, plump cheeks as he gazed at the approaching city walls. She was from Vale.

Those walls, easily tens of meters high—what radius did they encompass?

[…This is Ortolan City Entry Management. Sky Warden confirmed. Lord of Ecstasy, welcome to Ortolan.]

Soon, a radio message came through.

More precisely, it was intercepted mid-transmission using divine power from what was sent through the communication device. One might wonder if it’s appropriate to waste divine power like this… but Viktor considered it a blessing that he could afford to waste power in this way.

The day when a god truly needs to exert their power… would not be a good day for humanity.