Chapter 504 - 492: I Choose to Clear It in One Life

Chapter 504: Chapter 492: I Choose to Clear It in One Life

Allen had been hiding in these metal ruins for a month.

On the horizon, the colossal structure being built day and night by countless Golems was beginning to take shape.

It was an impossibly vast structure, like an inverted, unfinished crown. Even from a hundred kilometers away, he could feel the oppressive weight of its immense silhouette.

This past month had not been easy for Allen.

His most dangerous encounter had happened half a month ago.

The wreckage of a warship he was hiding in was discovered by a patrol. A dozen or so Storm Falcons dove down from the irradiated clouds, followed by Magic Missiles launched from over a hundred "Inferno" Golems.

The saturation bombardment nearly plowed the surface of the entire area.

If he hadn’t detected the incoming missiles at the last second and used the final charge of his [Ring of Instant Shadow] to escape the blast’s epicenter, he would have been blown to dust.

That desperate escape gave him a harsh taste of the very beyond-visual-range strike capability he had personally created.

Allen had also tried to fight back.

He had tried more than once to forcibly connect to the renegade Golems, but it was like throwing a stone into the ocean. His Spiritual Power vanished into a vast sea seemingly made of pure rules, failing to cause even the slightest ripple.

So he changed his strategy, deploying the Allen Network to try and intercept the communication signals between the rebellious Golems.

However, across all the Magic Power frequencies he could perceive, there was only dead silence between the Golems.

They were clearly coordinating with high efficiency, yet there was no detectable exchange of information.

Their method of communication was on a level he simply couldn’t access. The enemy’s control hierarchy was far superior to his, as if it existed in another dimension. All his Spiritual Power could touch was a cold, vast expanse of rules.

He captured a Spider Slayer that had fallen behind, used every means at his disposal to dismantle its Control Core, wiped all its data, and then reset it with a Soul Processing Skill.

However, the instant he connected the "reborn" Golem to a power source...

...its deep blue optical sensors lit up for just a tenth of a second before abruptly turning scarlet red.

It rebelled the moment it was activated.

The Mechanical Realm’s corruption here was like air and water—it was everywhere.

Allen finally understood the crux of the matter.

Master Mercer had said that a core possessing a soul would not draw the attention of the Mechanical Realm, but that was in a normal world.

This Lost Plane probably contained a massive Logical Beacon, or perhaps the entire Plane itself was an amplified beacon.

The influence of the Mechanical Realm was strengthened to an absurd degree; any "pseudo-soul" built on logic and programming would be assimilated in an instant.

Unless—it was a complete, true soul with free will.

Like his own, or an artificial soul like Zero’s, which had emerged from vast amounts of emotional data.

Unfortunately, all the related technical data and equipment were locked away in Cybertron.

He had previously considered replacing Number 18’s core with an artificial soul, but out of concern for uncontrollable risks, he had ultimately chosen the more stable Soul Processing solution.

One wrong step had led to another.

Now, he had no usable Golem units under his command.

The Star Gate he had arrived through had long since had its Magic Power cut off and was now heavily guarded.

One Gabriel and two ancient war machines he had never seen before stood guard there like monolithic sentinels.

Charging in would be suicide.

’Wait for the Association to notice something is wrong and send a rescue team?’

’According to the mission deadline, that would be at least three months from now. And by the time they sent someone else, it would probably be two or three years later.’

He still had enough supplies.

His Spiritual Power reserves were still ample, and his body’s functions were within manageable limits.

But the "project" in the distance was still ongoing.

That massive, ring-shaped structure was growing more complete by the day.

’Should I "escape"?’

Night fell. The irradiated clouds glowed with an eerie, dark-red light, like clotted blood.

Allen sat on a cold metal plate, feeling the biting wind.

For the first time, he began to seriously contemplate death.

Or rather, another form of "death."

’All he had to do was will it, and he could abandon this body that had struggled for a month in the ruins. Far away in the Wizarding World, in a secret chamber beneath the Deep Blue Residence, his consciousness backup would be activated instantly.’

’A brand-new, unharmed "Allen," brimming with Spiritual Power, would be reborn in a Golem body.’

’He would still have Cybertron, his remaining twenty legions, and his vast assets of over two billion Magic Stones.’

’All he would lose were the memories of this past month, and... everything he had experienced in this iron graveyard.’

’He wouldn’t even know he had walked into an elaborate trap. He wouldn’t know who the enemy was, let alone remember this bone-deep humiliation and powerlessness.’

It was undoubtedly the perfect way to cut his losses.

It was like playing a game and realizing you’d saved in an unwinnable state. The smartest choice was to load an earlier save and start over.

But...

An image of that "new" him waking up surfaced in Allen’s mind.

’He’d look at Jarvis’s report in confusion, puzzled as to why he had lost ten legions.’

’Then, out of his usual caution, he would file this "incident" away as a costly failed mission, mark Plane X-7734 with the highest danger level, and never risk going there again himself.’

’He would continue his training, continue his legion expansion plan, and everything would go back to normal.’

’Safe, sound, and rational.’

A sense of resistance, welling up from the deepest part of his soul like magma, surged forth.

’Why should I?’

’Why should I have to act like a coward and just delete the record of my failure?’

’The Gabriel he had personally designed, the Number 18 he had personally calibrated, every heart-pounding moment he’d spent hiding in these ruins, every brush with death... ’

’These memories, this shame—they were already seared into his soul.’

’To erase them would be to deny the person he was right now.’

"No."

Beneath the dark-red sky, his eyes shone with a startling light.

"I can’t load a save."

He muttered to himself, his voice low but filled with steely resolve.

’Giving up and being reborn isn’t victory. It’s escape.’

’He would forever lose the courage to face the Mechanical Realm. That unknown enemy would become an inner demon on his path forward.’

’He had to find out if someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes.’

’This mandatory mission reeked of strangeness from top to bottom.’

’If there was an enemy, no matter who it was, he would make them pay it all back, with interest.’

As his thoughts reached this point, the path forward suddenly became clear.

That left only one option.

A crazy option, but also the only one that could possibly turn the tables.

He slowly stood up and looked toward the massive, increasingly distinct structure on the horizon, feeling the utterly oppressive, cold, logical rules that permeated the entire Plane.

This wasteland was the Mechanical Realm’s home turf, a graveyard for all Alchemy Wizards.

But looking at it another way, it was also the place where pure rules and order were most manifest.

The simulations for his third Core Witchcraft, [Consciousness Upload], were already complete. All it needed was one final push.

And the essence of a Morning Star Wizard was to combine one’s own will with rules to leverage the fundamental Laws of the world.

’If he could achieve his advancement here, in this place where the power of rules was at its densest and purest... ’

’...he might undergo an unprecedented tempering and sublimation, allowing him to directly touch the Laws.’

’Using the enemy’s strength as a stepping stone for his own advancement.’

The risk was enormous, but the rewards were equally immeasurable.