Chapter 445: Chapter 445: New Home and Return Voyage

After landing on the makeshift airport of this brown planet on board the royal shuttle, I had already adjusted my mood. I had to admit, a phrase Lin Xue once said was indeed correct: Chen Wood’s forte is his resilience, even stronger than a cockroach’s.

Moreover, feeling sentimental for half a day over a race that merely looks similar to humans is indeed a waste of emotions.

“It seems like you’ve been doing well these past few days.”

The first person I saw upon exiting the shuttle was a bearded uncle standing next to the temporary alloy landing platform, dressed in heavy power armor, saluting our way.

It wasn’t hypocritical small talk; this formerly decadent-looking uncle, soaked in the smell of alcohol, now genuinely appeared to be in great shape.

Well, his eyes were bright, his complexion was rosy, and his wildly disheveled hair had obviously been trimmed–or possibly he was just too lazy to comb it back and covered it up with the helmet of his power armor. The beard on his chin matched his style perfectly, unchanged, except that the smell of alcohol was no longer detectable.

“Putting on this armor again, but the sentiments this time are entirely different,” James Raynor pounded on his war armor twice, “I’m not sure whether I should call it a rebirth.”

Tex standing next to him immediately whistled: “I took off that heavy prison, and now this fool with an over-developed sense of responsibility has volunteered to bear it all.”

Curiosity drew me closer to James, and I sniffed emphatically before exclaiming in surprise, “You’ve really quit drinking this time?”

“Kerrigan won’t let me drink.”

Uncle Raynor’s face, now unusually flushed, said a bit sheepishly.

The imperial audience: “…Oh~~~~”

It seems even amidst the shadow of human exile, some still find their way to a more luxurious life.

I had mentioned before that Kerrigan would certainly thank us for her modification. When Lilina and Taville, combining mysticism with cutting-edge science, completed the biological repair chamber named “Life One,” which theoretically wouldn’t need updating for a hundred years, and forcibly pushed the Blade Queen into it despite her protests, it only took an hour of biological transformation before her first words upon emerging were words of thanks to us.

So, the Empire is filled with good people. All good people.

Of course, I suspect Kerrigan’s protesting was partly due to the design of the repair chamber, which was led by Taville… You understand what aesthetic preferences a coffin enthusiast has, right?

However, when we questioned why it still resembled a Western-style coffin despite reminding her earlier, Taville’s explanation was quite confident: “Your Majesty, the Western-style coffins have a flip lid, mine has a sliding lid!”

A sliding-lid coffin–I dare say Kerrigan has developed a psychological shadow now.

“Speaking of which, where’s your Blade Girl?” I looked around curiously but didn’t see the former Insect Race Queen restored to human form, and casually blurted out the nickname that came to mind.

Uncle Raynor must have been fully immersed in the sweetest time of his life, as he didn’t even notice my somewhat awkward nickname and continued with a silly smile, “She’s at home cooking…”

Me: “…”

Me: At least don’t launch into your post-aclayptic superhero’s happy life story when it’s like this, will you? Don’t you think you’re moving a bit too fast? You’ll get beaten to death by the refugees of New Eden, you jerk!

Uncle Reynolds had transformed from the small-time terrorist leader of the past into the new leader of humanity, of that there was no doubt. Not to mention, ninety percent of the human refugees in New Eden were originally oppressed poor people from the edge of the Independent Federation under Monsk. These people had almost fanatical admiration for “Hero Raynor,” who bravely resisted tyranny. More importantly, as Reynolds had promised, the Kepulu Star System had completely disappeared, and he had found a new refuge for these destitute people–a feat enough to make him a legendary hero.

But I just couldn’t imagine it, damn it!

Just a few days ago, she had been the Blade Queen who dominated the Insect Race, and now she had shamelessly started a new life with Uncle Reynolds!? This kind of ending that seems to just throw in “N years later” after a black screen, then show a CG image of a couple’s daily life obviously made on a tight budget, and even the background music felt eerily familiar. What a low-cost massive plot twist, damn it!

I hereby solemnly declare: it’s absolutely not jealousy, I’m definitely not jealous of this old man who’s already enjoying his new life!

And more importantly, the renowned Blade Queen Kerrigan is now at home–cooking! Would you believe it, Bubbles, being an avid gaming nerd, will hear this news and his first reaction would be to toss this bad man who corrupted “his queen” into a reactor for humanitarian destruction?

Although Reynolds couldn’t tell how many shockingly bizarre things I’d thought in a flash, he could see something from the sudden dramatic changes in our expressions and subtly adjusted his own, then quietly signaled us to be mindful of our surroundings.

Curiously, I looked around and saw the welcoming party not far away–half of them were Protos Natives.

So that’s the way it was; in such a situation, Kerrigan really could only hide at home and cook.

“How’s the situation now? Can the environment of the new colony meet your needs?”

On our way to the capital of the new colony–which actually was just a huge colony store transformed into an alloy slum–with Reynolds and Zeratul, I asked the calmly expressive Uncle Z.

“We need some time to adapt to the environment of the Refuge, but it’s already much better than we expected,” Zeratul replied. “Those holy seeds quickly established a primary ecosystem on these desolate and barren planets. Although this unbalanced ecosystem might collapse in a few years, it’s given us enough time to breathe. We should be able to modify those planets, as Protos Natives have strong adaptability to environments.”

“And as for us, the environment here isn’t too bad,” Reynolds took over, “in the poorest slums on the edge of the Federation, the conditions there weren’t much better than here. The lowest level of people lived a life like pioneering the stars, and here, although the environment isn’t great, at least they can live for themselves now… apart from missing their homeland and other psychological issues, there’s nothing much to worry about.”

“But that’s enough to worry about, isn’t it?” the Fake Lolita, who had been silently following behind me dressed in a priest robe, spoke with a soft and gentle magnetic voice, “Human minds are most vulnerable at times like these; they need guidance. Human James Raynor, can you be that pillar of support?”

“…I don’t know.” Uncle Reynolds finally sighed deeply, “I’ve fought against tyranny and dictatorship for many years, but now I’m facing challenges I’d never understood before, interstellar pioneering… Humanity is back to square one… But it’s okay, when humans’ immigrant ships got lost in this star zone many years ago, didn’t we also get by? And we even faced attacks from those supposed brethren from the Earth United Council…”

Don’t worry about that; following Lilina’s advice, the Empire had already used hidden forces to secure this place. Until the new Kepulu People are completely turned into the empire’s theocratic slaves, no external civilization will discover you–unfortunately, I can’t say this aloud.

“What do people here think about our existence?”

Finally, I cast out this question I desperately wanted to know.

“In the eyes of Protos Natives, you have a grand and lofty image,” Reynolds shrugged, his irresponsible remark made Uncle Z turn his head pretending not to see, “They call you mentors and leaders, but in humans’ eyes, your image is… well, a bit complicated.”

“In the eyes of some, the Xyrin Apostle was the savior who had saved this star zone, even though their homelands were ultimately destroyed by your formatting. They know that it wasn’t your fault. These people are primarily the impoverished from the lowest strata, who had little attachment to their former lives and are quite satisfied with this New Eden. As for another group, although they ultimately chose exile, they still harbor hostility toward the Imperial Army as outsiders who stirred up turmoil. They blame their current miserable situation on you. These were mostly nobles from the past, the destruction of Kepulu left them with nothing, forcing them to work with me, a terrorist they once despised,” he sneered, “The rest are the Neutral Faction; there’s not much to say about them. Anyway, the mainstream sentiment in the new colonies is still quite friendly toward you, but don’t expect humans to line up to welcome the Imperial Army.”

“Hmm, that sounds challenging.”

Lilina said this seemingly out of the blue, but I was the only one who understood what she meant.

It seemed she had already begun her divine seeding plan.

This planet, designated as the capital of the new colonies, was located in a remote area, orbiting a dying star, a lonely brown planet. This location seemed odd; it belonged neither to the Protos Sanctuary nor was it near the New Eden Star System, and although the environment barely met the standards for survival without terraforming, it was hardly suitable to serve as the capital of a new immigrant district. But soon, I understood why such a lonely planet had been chosen as the new capital.

It was perfectly situated between two racial refuges, at a clever point equidistant from both races, and it was the only planet not artificially altered by the Imperials, meaning this could be considered the first colony opened by the two races into space exploration.

“We call this place El-Tazani,” Reynolds said with a heavy sigh, “in memory of our lost homelands.”

“Protos and humans fully integrated together?”

I was surprised by the name, which clearly seemed cobbled together. The first part came from the Protos natives whose mother planet was destroyed by the Insect Race, while the latter part came from the humans’ former capital destroyed in the war. The meaning behind such a name was all too clear.

“Not quite integrated, but in this cruel world, at least we are brothers in refuge,” Reynolds said with a wry smile, shaking his head. “We need to join hands if we are to survive the refugee life ahead… We need Protos’s advanced technology, but they also need the extreme skills humans have learned from the extended struggle against harsh nature.”

“For instance, human tenacity,” Zeratul added. “Faced with the second destruction of their homes, many Protos fell into despondency. Though high rationalization prevents us from falling into despair, compared to humanity, which has always struggled for survival in Kepulu Star Zone under disadvantaged conditions, we truly lack the alertness and tenacity of the disadvantaged. Those aren’t things that advanced technology and racial philosophies can replace.”

In other words, you envy the human’s resilience, right…

“We brought a lot of seeds…” I suddenly remembered this important matter and immediately patted Lilina on the head, making her rummage through her pocket. She rolled her eyes in protest, “Haven’t you heard that one should never hit a Priestess to feed her?”

Reynolds and Zeratul simultaneously stopped my action, their expressions telling me that they were not very enthusiastic about these seeds.

“If those are the Holy Seeds, we no longer need them,” Zeratul shook his head. “Though they would bring us momentary relief, they would erase the drive for development of both races. Now, the ecosystems we’ve established and the migrant chambers on our ships just barely suffice. Let us continue against the fate’s current…”

“Um, these seeds after improvements form a stable ecosystem…”

“Zeratul, this half is yours,” Reynolds took the seeds without hesitation from my hands and handed them to his close companion.

Hey! Uncle Z! At least you shouldn’t be as clueless as Uncle Reynolds, right?

After briefly meeting with the main officials of the new colonies and summarizing the situation in this sky zone, there was no further need for us to stay. The Insect Race was extinct, and even the Kepulu Star Zone was destroyed. It would take decades to rebuild this place, and the Fallen Apostle who had cost us dearly was unlikely to reappear here. It was time to leave.

At our departure, only a Protos fleet saw us off. It wasn’t that humans severely despised the Empire, preventing them from even sending a fleet to bid farewell, but rather they were now using all space-capable resources to support the construction of the colonies. Technologically disadvantaged, humans could not compare with the well-funded Protos, and we didn’t intend to demand some form of ceremonial send-off just for appearances. In fact, if not for Zeratul’s insistence on seeing us off, by this time, a bunch of Imperial leaders who had been wandering too long were nearly ready to head home and sleep…

“We have selectively provided you with some of the Empire’s technology, calculated by our ultimate deduction system as the most suitable for you. Of course, to avoid disrupting the normal progression of a civilization, this set of technology is not much more advanced than your current ones, but it can certainly save you many detours.”

Before parting with Zeratul, I said this and then handed him a crystal.

“This crystal contains another portion of technology, entrusted to your care. If you can completely decode the first part of the technology we gave you within fifty years, you will be able to unlock it. If you fail to do so within fifty years, immediately destroy this crystal, as the technology here could doom the future of your entire race.”

Zeratul took the crystal with both hands, his expression turning serious instantly.

“You can trust me, esteemed Mentor.”

Uh, what’s with that title?

Selectively transferring some Imperial technology to the Protos was a result negotiated between Sandora and me. Protos is an extremely rare race that has developed super-technology and also possesses a high degree of rationality. In ancient times, the Empire taught its technology more than once to such “potentially capable” civilizations, and this “potential”…

Don’t think it’s anything good–it refers to “the potential to become a vassal of the Empire.”

By guiding the technological development, we shape a civilization’s course of evolution, an almost godlike complete control more radical than divine rule. Tailored to the different civilizational layers and inherent natures of the two races, Sandora and Lilina crafted two long-term plans to include both humans and the Protos under Empire’s domination–the freedom of the humans will end with the Mechanical God Sect, and the Protos “Divine Race” will be led down a path of no return by Imperial technology.

Speaking of which, isn’t it problematic that Lilina, a follower of Dingdang, is busy establishing a religion that believes in the Xyrin Apostle across the universe?

It is foreseeable that within two hundred years, these two races will not be able to break free from Imperial leadership, or their civilizations will collapse overnight.

I’m not sure if humans have sufficiently wise philosophers to see this point, but those centuries-old elders of the Protos certainly can infer a lot. However, they have no other choice; the extreme advancement of Imperial technology is a temptation they can’t resist, and in this dangerous universe, being a vassal of a superpower civilization isn’t necessarily a bad thing–after all, we have no ill intentions.

Well, but having the future of two races cut off by the Empire and then fully planned by us does feel a bit sinful…

“Finally home… I’m dead tired!!”

Hey, hey, hey! I say, you Fake Lolita, who besides planting trees only adds soy sauce, don’t you think I, as a military commander, am not tired?

“Tch, you’re only slightly less idle than me.”

Lilina, who sprawled dramatically on the living room carpet, muttered sullenly.

Then, the girl suddenly screamed “Wow” and jumped up two meters high on the spot–if there were no ceiling, I estimate she could have gone even higher.

Anwina’s head was slowly emerging from the carpet; she had just come face-to-face with Lilina… This incorrigible Ghost Maid was once again inspecting the sanitation of the basement in her own way while our Priestess, Female Pope, Heretic Judge, etc., was just scared off by a ghost.

(Habitually asking for monthly tickets…)(Continued in the next issue, should you wish to know what happens next, please visit www.wuxiaworld.site, where there are more chapters, supporting the author, supporting genuine reading!)