Chapter 892: Converted

“…We cannot face the future in ignorance.”

Zessel, the most powerful Sartrean spoke thus in the Sartrean world on the other side of the stars. “The Mycroftians wishes to advance beyond the galaxy? We would absolutely support them, but we must not be left in the dark. Zelma, you have spoken to the Mycroft champion named Radcliffe—I now appoint you as ambassador and ask after their objective.”

“We are followers who received salvation, and so would support whatever their intentions may be. Even so, we wish to obtain information regarding other galaxies as well, and if possible, we would want to know where our fleet’s destination would be.”

Though the Sartreans were a race of anthropomorphic humans, they were not a civilization of a single beast—apart from the main race that were cat people, there were also many races such as bird people, snake people, dog people and bear people. Nevertheless, all these races were born connected in bloodline without isolation of breeding, and were all virtually identical save for appearance.

That was how the Sartrean bloodlines were left in a puddle of quagmire.

Zessel, their most powerful champion, possesses substantial snake people blood, while Zelma, the recently appointed ambassador has partial bear people blood.

At present, they were speaking at the Sartrean Void dockyards—technicians from Mycroft had come and was having an exchange with the local technicians, and were repairing many damaged or problematic Void warships together.

To the Satreans, their impression Mycroft in their bloodline memories was one of great pride and arrogance that somehow matches that powerful civilization. But having come to know several Mycroftians personally, the Sartreans realized that in surprise that they were completely different from those inherited memories.

Indeed, they possess profound technology, but they are uncertain about certain basic knowledge as well. Furthermore, their perceived arrogance was simply miscommunication due to the language barrier.

“Would they tell us?” Zelma quietly accepted his duty. Being one of high-ranked officials in the temporary Satrean government, he knew the present of his civilization—their massive fleet had now become a burden for their people and could hence be presented as a gift to Mycroft, while actually benefitting the present Sartrean world. Their realm had long since been in shambles and unable to compensate for such military force.

“They will tell us.” Controlling his two rows of serpentine eyes, Zessel stared at the Golden Fleet that was being repaired in the docks while saying softly, “They won’t sink to the point of lying to us, for the strong would never lie to the weak. The Mycroftians would still hold on that most fundamental of pride, and that is one thing I could be sure of.”

***

“They would not lie to us. That is one thing I can be sure of.”

Within a lightless planetary quadrant, the Starherders’ fleet were slowly flying to one dead world after another for resource resupplying. The Great Khan, the ruler of the race was controlling the eyes of Void Behemoths to look towards the dark distance at the other galaxies. “We had come in here because the Lost Galaxy is the peaceful harbor we had in mind,” he said placidly, “while they want to step out because this place is a little birdcage. The splendor commanded in the very name of the Forerunners’ civilization had spread over ten thousand worlds—even if they had decline to such states, they are reluctant to become a mere spectator of the Multiverse.”

“They would step out as fast as they could, and would never hesitate to resolve themselves. Compared to us, they have set their determination much faster than we did despite our own impending encounter of various calamities. The reason is that their prideful race understood why the Multiverse was in such a state, and that it was a much more pressing problem than any future threat—in other words, the Mycroftians would never abide by ignorance as they face the future.”

“Then, Great Khan, should we simply obey and return?”

Behind the white spiritual form of the Great Khan, a black eight-legged fungus was reverently listening to the words of its ruler, but now could not hold back from questioning it. “It took us centuries to reach this place, only to hand one-third of our most elite to our triumphant foes, so that they could return to that burning galaxy… Is this really fine?”

Leaving the fate of their race in another’s hand… is the octopedal fungi only able to accept such a fate? 

“It does not matter if it is fine. All we can do is accept.”

Unstirred by any emotion, the Great Khan remembered the Forerunner champion who had defeated itself with neither grudge nor regret. “Moreover, my King of Akasha,” it replied carefreely, “do you think going home with the Mycroftians is such a bad thing?”

With those words, the white octopedal fungi turned, its ruminating spirit emanating. “Don’t you think that this is a fine opportunity?”

Following the strong who would crush each and every great foe that once defeated us and chased us away from our own lands, banishing us as if we were mere refuse and forcing them to swear fealty to the Mycroftians—my King of Akasha, do you not consider this a twisted pleasure?

“It is a failure and tragedy as race and civilization that we did not become powerful—but if you consider it on another perspective, joining as a member of the powerful would be a great option as well, isn’t that so?”

***

“…At the very least, joining the Mycroftians as a vicious hound guarding the gates would absolutely be much better than dying out at the hands of wild beasts.”

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In the Valley of Tears Fortress in the Sixth Abyss, Goliath the Demon King was speaking flatly to the Demon Generals serving it. “I know it’s hard for you to accept, but such is reality—the weak would always be destroyed if they do not obey the strong. I trust that you lot won’t think that it’s better to ‘die with pride’ than ‘barely living’. If that was the case, creatures such as us would have long since died when the former insectoid civilization died and this world fell into the Abyss.

“Deep in our blood resides genes that keep us living at all costs. So, compose your indignant faces and thoughts, we will collectively join the Mycroftians’ Void Fleet—should I find out any tricks on your part, I would act before they do.”

Goliath’s Shadow clone swept its eyes over the five Demon Generals before itself, knowing that its servants understood the greater meaning in its words. Though they appeared unhappy, it was for the sake of appearance—after having seen the majestic ranks of Mycroftian Legends, the Seven Gods joint subjugation of the Abyss and even destroying the Darkest Abyss, they, along with Goliath knew in that very moment that the demons of the Abyss fared no chance.

Was there any other choice? The demons indeed did—that is, if infighting erupts in the Mycroft civilization, with all their champions suddenly dying out and their gods doing nothing to interfere.

Nonetheless, all they could do now was bow in subservience.

“It’s not so bad,” Goliath said calmly, turning to show its back to its own Generals. “At least we still have a future.”

The Demon King of Gluttony had tried the Creation skill taught by Joshua van Radcliffe, successfully conjuring a small region of normal jungle and soil. Although it was quickly eroded and assimilated into the Abyss, it was sufficient evidence that Mycroft did not withhold anything.

Now, it could only send those Demons of Order so that they could live in perfect and ordinary surroundings. However, Goliath was confident that it could completely alter its own world so that it suits the demons—and the day would come that demons would hold their own fate in their own hands, and not rely on plunder or the blessings of the superior.

***

Meanwhile.

Joshua and Igor were conversing in the Superconductive Arcane Silver world as well.

They had just sent off Priest’s Elite Party, while the massive thunder elemental crystal was bought by Joshua on official capacity with a hundred and fifty thousand exchange points and two S-class redemption clearance. And that was just the beginning—any unique engine construct Winter Fort Academy could research from it would bring additional rewards.

It was not special treatment for his pupil since that super dense elemental crystal that contains Superconductive Arcane Silver indeed boasts such value, and Priest would certainly redeem more points from Joshua acting on an official capacity than going on a private auction.

When the portal ripples from which Priest and the others left calmed entirely, Igor turned and throw a solemn gaze at Joshua.

“Zero Three isn’t with you… how would you suppress your spirit deviation rate?” The elderly Pope questioned with doubt and disgruntlement. “You told me that it’s a very important matter, but you’re not a hundred percent prepared either!”

It was perfectly reasonable for the pontiff to be so accusing—everyone knew that Joshua was half-crazed without the processing power of the Mana Net. Not only was it irresponsible for him to be somewhere else alone, he was being irresponsible to other innocent worlds and civilizations.

Heavens know what horrors a crazed Joshua would deal upon those innocent worlds.

“I can hold it for some time when the deviation rate is below 70%,” Joshua answered serenely. “Having fought Chaos memories and divinity for so long, I already gained some experienced… and relax, I am fully prepared when I came.”

“Fine, as long as you could control it.”

Igor sighed in return—he certainly could not be blamed for being so nervous since only he or the Seven Gods could rein the warrior in if Joshua does go on a warpath.

And he really would not want to take on such a troublesome task.

“Alright, apart from what we discussed before and the otherworld spying, do you still have any problems? If not, I would be returning for some logistics tasks in the Holy Mountain Fortress.”

At that, the old Pope began to complain a little about the Void Fleet, such as how there was a lack of crew, a lack of crew and a lack of crew—even with the addition of the Sartreans, Starherders and the demons, Mycroft’s ships were still understaffed.

Even now, with every new crewmember over the world having been gathered and instructed by experienced crew about traveling in the Void, that number remains utterly inadequate. Despite the establishment of the new global discipline known as ‘Void Navigation’, it would only be six or seven years later when they would finally recruit large batches of students.

While the Mycroft Civilization could indeed wait that long, could they afford the price of doing that?

Igor certainly would not, and would have that issue resolved even if he applied a hasty, patched up solution.