Chapter 340 - 333: The True Origin Sect?

Chapter 340: Chapter 333: The True Origin Sect?

After delegating the subsequent planning for the shipworm farm to Tristan, Velin left the underground laboratory.

The scent of the nutrient solution still lingered in his nostrils, but his thoughts had already leaped to the next issue.

He strode down the corridor toward the technology department.

"Breach the Magic shield of a Level 3 battleship."

This was the task he had assigned to Elvin and the technology department a short while ago.

According to publicly available intelligence from the Empire, a shield of this class could withstand three direct hits from Five-Ring Magic.

Needless to say, it was a daunting task.

In the technology department’s workshop, Elvin was hunched over a huge glass tank, his face pressed so close it was almost touching the glass.

"My Lord!"

Elvin heard the footsteps and whipped his head around. Seeing it was Velin, he managed to squeeze out a stiff smile.

"Any progress on the project?" Velin got straight to the point.

"We... we have." Elvin nodded quickly, pointing to the tank behind him. "My Lord, please, take a look!"

Inside the tank, a screen of light simulated a warship’s energy shield. Outside the glowing barrier, several palm-sized, bizarrely shaped "fish" swam about.

They had no scales. Their bodies were translucent and gelatinous, with several slender, fleshy tendrils dangling from their undersides.

"These are ’Shield Mimic Fish,’" Elvin’s introduction was brief and to the point. He pointed to one of them. "We found a special type of fish in the knowledge archives of the Multi-Armed Race. They possess a natural talent for passing through Energy Force Fields."

"These little guys can adjust their own Biological Force Field frequency to perfectly match that of a target shield, and then... they pass right through."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the mimic fish he was pointing to began to gently sway its fleshy tendrils. A faint shimmer, vibrating at the same frequency as the shield, appeared on its surface.

The next moment, like one drop of water merging into another, it passed through the pale blue light barrier without any resistance and entered the shielded space.

A stream of data flashed through Velin’s wine-red eyes.

"Interesting." He walked up to the tank. "Control method? Payload capacity? Counter-jamming capabilities?"

"We’ve implanted a Hive Terminal inside them. They can be remotely controlled through a psychic channel."

"Their abdominal cavities have been modified to hold three hundred grams of standard alchemical explosives. As for counter-jamming... their biological brains are extremely simple. They only receive commands on a specific frequency, so conventional Magic-based interference has no effect on them."

He was like a student showing his masterpiece to a professor—a little nervous, but mostly thrilled.

"I’ve named them ’torpedoes,’" Elvin summarized. "Single-use ’torpedoes’ capable of breaching a shield."

Velin smiled wryly at the name.

’Is this some kind of convergence of timelines?’

Pushing the thought aside, Velin asked the most crucial question.

"What’s the cost?"

"High," Elvin answered honestly. "The cultivation cost for each one is around thirty Golden Suns. But compared to the cost of an otherwise impregnable battleship, the trade-off... is extremely favorable."

"Excellent." Velin nodded. "I need fifty finished units within a week. Can you do it?"

"I can!" Elvin immediately guaranteed, then added, "But, my Lord, their effective control range is only 1,500 meters. Any farther and we’ll be pushing the limits of the King Insect’s range."

Velin nodded. "That will be sufficient."

...

「One week later.」

The follow-up forces were ready to depart. Velin was in his study, poring over a tome on Alchemy.

"My Lord, urgent intelligence from the Southern Islands." Barrett walked in holding a report.

He handed over a scroll of parchment sealed with beeswax, bearing Kael’s unique sigil.

Velin took it and unfurled it.

He read with incredible speed.

Contact with the resistance successful...

Bloody Celebration...

A clean sweep...

Velin’s eyes paused at the end of the report.

The leader of the largest local resistance force, a self-proclaimed Priest of the True Origin Sect, possesses the unique ability to channel healing through rituals...

’True Origin Sect?’

’A name that has never appeared in any book, but a Priest...?’

"Where is Fabian?" Velin put down the report.

"At this hour... he’s probably at the chapel," Barrett replied after a moment’s thought.

"Tell him to wait for me at the Lord’s Mansion."

A few minutes later, Fabian was waiting in the study when Velin arrived.

"My Lord, you were looking for me."

"The True Origin Sect." Velin tossed the name out. "What do you know about them?"

For a moment, the gentle expression on Fabian’s face froze.

It was a complex expression, a mixture of horror, disgust, and a hint of curiosity.

His lips trembled for a few moments before he finally spoke.

"The ’False-Source Heresy’..." He subconsciously used the Church’s official, derogatory term. "My Lord, they are a group branded by the Church of Holy Brilliance as the most dangerous of heretics. They are ’Bloodline Thieves.’"

"They preach that mortals have no need for gods." Fabian’s voice trembled slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure. "They claim that every person’s bloodline is a bridge to the supreme ’True Source.’ They believe that through their practices, one can ’attain sainthood through the bloodline’ and channel power for themselves. They reject the unique sanctity of the Church as the ’Keeper of the Keys,’ and they see the Holy Brilliance as a cage that has stolen the innate power that is the birthright of all mortals!"

"My Lord!" Fabian took a sharp step forward, his eyes pleading. "This is more than just heretical doctrine. It threatens the very foundations of our world!"

"And the Church’s suppression of them is bloody and without mercy! The ’Edict of Burning’ is used to incinerate their scriptures, and the True Source Witch Hunters execute every heretic by the most brutal means. If we become entangled with them, we will be considered their accomplices and attract a ’purification’ from the Judicial Court! Grey Marsh Territory... and you, my Lord... cannot bear such a cost!"

The study fell silent.

Velin’s fingers tapped lightly on the mahogany desktop.

Risk. Reward.

The enmity of the Church was a known liability.

The strategic value of the Southern Islands was a potential gain.

And this "True Origin Sect" was a new variable in the equation.

’Tapping into the source of one’s own bloodline?’

’According to Kael, they witnessed something akin to a Divine Art being performed. Does that mean they’ve found a correct path, or at least one close to it?’

’Is the power they unleash from the same source as the Church’s Divine Arts?’

Velin’s mind raced.

But the question of whether or not to make contact had already been decided.

He stood up.

"Barrett, I’ve decided to go to the Southern Islands myself."

"My Lord!" Barrett’s voice was uncharacteristically loud. "That is too risky! You are the heart of this territory. If anything were to happen to you..."

"It’s exactly why I have to go," Velin cut him off. "This ’True Origin Sect’... I need to assess their value in person. Kael’s intelligence only scratches the surface. I need... to engage with them directly."

He looked at Barrett, his tone leaving no room for argument as he issued his orders.

"After I leave, Tristan will be in charge. You and Valerius will assist him."

"Load all of Elvin’s ’mimic torpedoes’ aboard. Also, extract the mother cultures for growth mediums one, three, and seven from the shipworm farm, along with ten thousand units of dormant larvae. Have them packaged and brought as well. I want a miniaturized feed production facility on Leviathan One."

"Summon Ola and the Knight Order. We leave tonight."

Barrett looked at Velin, and in the end, could only offer a slight bow.

"As you command, my lord."

The night grew deep.

The port of Grey Marsh Territory was silent, save for the scattered, flickering torches of the patrol in the distance.

Beneath the water’s surface, three massive shadows slipped silently out of the harbor.

The hull of Leviathan One blended into the dark ocean.

Behind it, two other, slightly smaller Leviathans followed in its wake.

The entire fleet melted into the night and the deep sea, as if it had never been there at all.