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墨書 Inktalez
“That child is ungrateful, as if he has been traumatized and forgotten who is who. Such matters cannot be rushed; perhaps he will remember you in the future,” Medusa remarked.
Fetter took a deep breath, shook his head, and his expression, which had just shown some signs of improvement, returned to indifference. He continued, “Don’t mention him to me again. This matter is behind us. Let’s go check the situation over there.” With that, Fetter fell silent, and soon the group descended towards the Tower to Patrol.
Somewhere, observing their earlier quarrel, Hilbert displayed a look of helplessness and quickly said, “It seems everything is fine now. If these fellows didn’t end up fighting, that would be a good thing. It’s not peaceful anywhere. If it weren’t for the invasion of the Zerg, we wouldn’t have been able to gather together to resist the enemy. I really don’t know what will happen in the future.” The last sentence was clearly directed at those behind him; he wanted them all to hear it. Once the Zerg is driven out, it will only be humanity’s internal affairs. What can we do then? We must coordinate to resolve various unexpected incidents; otherwise, disputes will continue endlessly.
Most of history has been like this; the decline of a dynasty is built upon the flesh and blood of warriors. These insignificant soldiers have no idea where their future lies; they only obey orders from their superiors. When commanded to charge into battle, they do so without question. Once on the battlefield, death is never far away unless it’s a decisive victory. After one battle, thousands may fall—just numbers.
It’s unimaginable that fellow humans would kill each other for such reasons. Hilbert shook his head and sighed.
“Perhaps you’re right. At times like this, only you can understand my thoughts, Clinton. You truly are a born philosopher. But don’t worry too much; if that time comes, I might not even be around anymore. I should be celebrating with Champagne while the conflicts below have nothing to do with me. After the war ends, the victorious side will still exalt me as a war hero or a leader. Ha! I wouldn’t have lived in vain; in my next life, who would suffer again? I refuse to believe that,” Hilbert said.
The dull military discussions gave him a headache, so he slipped out of the Command Tent for some fresh air. After all, it was mostly the same; as long as his secretary understood what he needed relayed later on, it wouldn’t affect anything.
He felt at ease; after all, with less of his presence, the atmosphere inside could lighten up considerably.
He was simply not suited for communal living; solitude allowed him to express thoughts only he could comprehend. That was what true talent meant—mere mortals would never understand his ideas. Let them laugh if they wished; having lived this long, nothing mattered anymore. He could even forsake this position if it weren’t for his unfulfilled aspirations. Humanity’s future was none of his concern; he could just watch news reporters spouting their opinions on television while munching on Stinky Tofu and shouting, “Humanity will prevail!” He would have no regrets in this life—even if humanity lost, he could prepare explosives in advance and detonate them when the bugs approached his doorstep, taking a few of them down with him on his Underworld Road journey.
“It seems the meeting is about to conclude; we can’t let them notice your lack of focus. Let’s head back in.”
The two re-entered the Command Tent. Inside the conference room filled with people, many noticed their entrance. It was impossible to come and go unnoticed; after all, he was over a hundred years old now—though he still appeared as sprightly as a man in his sixties or seventies—he was indeed in his twilight years.
Despite this, he was still expected to speak at such times. The power he held was firmly grasped in his hands, and among the majority of role models present, there were some who had been his students in the past. A group of children was talking below, and as an elder, he naturally wanted to avoid getting involved. If he were to hear any erroneous statements, he would certainly feel uncomfortable and immediately refute them, which would create a tense atmosphere for the meeting on the future of humanity.
The others were likely quite old by now; in terms of seniority, they still saw him as a child before Hilbert. Therefore, they naturally respected him. However, this respect gradually turned into disdain over time. This Old Guy was truly lucky to have lived this long; the older he got, the more power he seemed to wield.
They all thought this way in their hearts, but on the surface, they maintained a cordial demeanor.
Such is human nature. So when it came to important matters, Hilbert preferred not to know what they were discussing and instead took a walk outside to breathe some fresh air. That way, he could continue living until the Zerg was defeated.
The angrier one became, the older one felt; it wasn't good for the liver either. Thus, for the sake of his health, he often ignored trivial matters. Some young people were very sensitive about power dynamics; he was the type who liked to share authority with others and knew how to utilize people effectively—this was the talent of a leader.
"What's the current progress? The Mecha Unit's Viper seems to have arrived at its destination. We now need Hilbert's voiceprint to activate the eye," said one of his secretaries nearby.
"Then let's activate it. Uh, you know what I mean," Hilbert replied after taking a deep breath. After a moment, he made an effort to regain his composure and said into the device, "Activate eye, initiate program transport module."
"Confirmed as Hilbert himself; voiceprint match successful. Module analysis at 100%, eye activation complete!" A clear voice transmitted back. At that moment, high above in the atmosphere, beyond human sight at tens of thousands of meters up, another Military Satellite was swiftly orbiting Earth. Suddenly, a creation resembling an eye activated, its red light flickering before transmitting some blurred images onto the meeting room's Virtual Screen.
"It's too blurry; make it clearer," Hilbert shouted, feeling somewhat impatient.
The voice from the Virtual Screen returned quickly as the images gradually shifted from blurry to clear.
In the sky, Airships were flying about in large numbers. From previous data, it appeared that both the Human Alliance and the Mecha Association had deployed at least half of their forces to join this battle.
The sounds of cannon fire echoed continuously as bullets streaked through the air. There was no sense of dissonance; there were also those enormous insect-like creatures soaring above.
The creature was a kilometer in size, its destructive power truly astonishing. Dozens of planes bombarded it, and bullets rained down on its body, yet they barely made an impact.
"Idiot! Wasting bullets! Attack the Wings! Attack the Wings! That's its weak spot!" someone suddenly shouted in the conference room. If such an obvious weakness could be spotted by an ordinary person, then these elite Air Force pilots had no business being there.
The sounds of artillery echoed everywhere, so even if they thought of such an attack, it was impossible to execute it as suggested; that would be too unexpected.
On the ground, the worms were spewing fireballs. These creatures had mutated into terrifying Lava Worms, which thrived on volcanic ash and had an extremely high ignition point. They continuously belched flames, causing many Airships to explode into fragments upon contact. This posed a significant threat to the operation.
While there weren't many flying insects, the number of Airships was nearly a thousand. Even so, the situation remained tense without yielding any overwhelming victories.
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