Chapter 449: Warhammer: What Do You Mean You Conquered the Zerg
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Protagonist:
Lin En
Lena
The muffled thud of the hydraulic shaft broke the silence outside the Mechanical Temple, and the heavy bronze doors slid open to either side.
The priests and pastors, stifled for over an hour, surged forward almost as one, red robes and black robes merging in the corridor into two rushing currents of people.
But as soon as they stepped over the temple threshold, everyone's footsteps stopped in unison.
There was no apocalyptic scene of spreading rust as expected, nor the miserable sight of everything scorched black after the mechanical soul ran rampant.
The bronze lamps on the dome lit up again with a warm golden glow, flowing along the intricate mechanical patterns and illuminating the entire hall down to the smallest detail.
The musty and rusty smell in the air had long since vanished completely, replaced by the crisp scent of ozone and refined machine oil, mixed with a faint fragrance of holy oil.
That was the scent the Mechanical Temple had always had since the James Tong had served for a thousand years.
But the woman in the black robe had long since vanished without a trace.
Only Dominic remained seated on the throne.
His military uniform had been burned black and mottled by the electric arcs, the collar and cuffs curling with charred frayed edges.
The exposed neck and back of his hands were covered in fine burn marks, the fiery red hair on his forehead singed and curled.
His face was pale as paper, his eyes tightly closed, his chest rising and falling weakly, as if he had fallen into a deep coma.
"Major General Adult!"
Deputy Colonel Karen cried out and was about to rush forward, but the high priest beside him grabbed his arm.
The high priest in the red robe had a grave expression, his optical lens fixed on the electric arcs wandering around the throne, his voice still carrying undisguised palpitations:
"Do not approach! Just now when the mechanical soul was enraged, the attendant merely stepped into the warning line and was burned to ashes..."
The words had not yet fallen when everyone in the hall watched with their own eyes as a fine blue-white electric arc leapt from the throne's armrest, grazing Dominic's cheek.
Yet as if it had its own consciousness, the moment before touching his skin it gently veered aside, only raising a wisp of fine sparks, then docilely fell back into the patterns.
The hall fell into dead silence.
Everyone was stunned.
The steel beast that had just been rampant enough to tear everything apart was now, facing the mortal seated on its throne, docile as a tamed griffin?
Bishop Wenka stepped forward quickly with his silver staff, his white hair and beard trembling slightly.
He stood outside the warning line for a moment, confirming the electric arcs had no intention of attacking, before carefully crossing that boundary once regarded as a line of death.
Walking all the way to the side of the throne, the mechanical soul's thunder showed not the slightest disturbance; instead, as if sensing his approach, the electric arcs jumped even more gently.
"A miracle, this is the Emperor's miracle..."
The old bishop murmured to himself, his eye sockets slightly heated.
He had lived nearly a hundred years and had never seen the arrogant mechanical soul be so affable toward a mortal.
He reached out to support Dominic's arm; to the touch it was scorching hot, the other's consciousness already blurred, merely maintaining an upright sitting posture by a soldier's instinct.
"Get two people, carefully, help the Major General Adult down."
Several young priests stepped forward trembling, supporting Dominic's shoulders and the bend of his knees, slowly helping him down from the throne.
Throughout the process, the electric arcs on the throne remained quiet and still, not a single extra spark splashing out.
Instead, at the moment Dominic's feet touched the ground, the entire throne sank slightly, as if paying a salute.
After placing him on a resting chair at the side of the hall, Bishop Wenka wiped the soot from Dominic's face with gauze soaked in holy water, softly calling his name.
After several calls, Dominic's eyelashes trembled, and he slowly opened his eyes.
His blue-gray pupils were covered with a layer of mist, out of focus for a while, before slowly gathering on Bishop Wenka's aged face.
"Bishop..." His voice was terribly hoarse, his throat as if stuffed with sand.
"The mechanical soul..."
"The mechanical soul is fine! Completely fine!" Bishop Wenka could not hide the excitement in his tone, pointing toward the throne.
"Look, the rust has receded, the energy circuits are also connected, almost no different from before the war!"
"Major General Adult, how exactly did you do it?"
The priests and pastors around also gathered around, their eyes full of reverence and curiosity.
Dominic looked in the direction he pointed, seeing the renewed mechanical soul throne, and a trace of astonishment flashed in his eyes.
He... did it?
He didn't do anything at all.
The memories in the depths of his consciousness still remained at the moment he stepped into the mechanical soul world: the sky-covering plague moths, Phelps' mocking cold smile, the soul-corroding pain...
After that, there was only a thick darkness.
He was like sinking into a bottomless deep sea, his consciousness hazy, perceiving nothing, until he was awakened just now.
The only remaining fragment was the young male voice that sounded in the darkness.
The voice was very calm, carrying a hint of careless amusement, very much like that young governor of Brevis.
But how could that be possible?
Dominic subconsciously furrowed his brow.
No matter how resourceful Keli Feng was, he was merely a mortal governor; could he possibly, from such a distance, drill into the James Tong's mechanical soul world and slay the plague remnant souls?
Too ridiculous.
It must be a hallucination produced at the brink of death, the Emperor's guidance, Omeomeya bestowing divine grace through his hand.
"I can't remember anymore." He shook his head, avoiding the probing gazes of the crowd, his voice weak but steady.
"I only remember... a CD drive spread the plague."
"Perhaps the Emperor and the God of All Machines took pity and protected the James Tong."
Hearing this, they all drew the Eagle Insignia or the Gear Seal on their chests, their faces showing understanding and reverence.
Indeed, besides Divine Grace, what other explanation could there be?
A mortal body plunging deep into a plague-infected Mechanical Soul Core, not only surviving but even turning the tide—if that isn't a miracle, what is?
No one asked for details anymore; prayers rose and fell within the hall, thanking the Emperor and the God of All Machines for their favor.
Dominic slowly stood up, leaning against the back of the chair, a lingering numbness still in his legs.
He raised his gaze toward the floating Mechanical Soul Throne, but the doubts in his heart did not dissipate.
That voice was too real.
So real that he could even recall the other person's tone when speaking, carrying a hint of carefree certainty, exactly like Keli Feng whenever he pulled off a strange trick.
He suppressed the absurd thought in his heart, and just as he was about to ask about the follow-up platoon investigation matters, his vision suddenly went black.
Days of fierce fighting had exhausted all his energy, and the clash on the level of Consciousness had drained his foundation further, holding on until now by a single breath.
After confirming the crisis was resolved, that breath relaxed, and his Consciousness could no longer hold out.
"Major General Adult!"
Karen hurried forward to support his collapsing Green Skin Body, only to hear his final whisper before losing consciousness: "Slum Deep In Platoon Investigation, don't stop..."
End of Chapter
