“Sizzle...”
The molten iron gradually solidified under the shaping of magic, filling in the final gap in the railway track.
The first railway in the God-Forsaken Land was completed at this very moment.
However, there was not a single trace of relief on the faces of the Black Knights responsible for laying the tracks.
They packed their tools into the minecarts on the tracks with extreme speed and pushed them into the pitch-black tunnel.
Next, they had to rush to other locations to lay tracks in the newly excavated underground tunnels connecting the various tribes. These would be used to transport troops and supplies to Black City, the battlefield chosen by Irene.
Not far away, the young beastkin Cezar sat cross-legged on the ground, staring blankly at the railway tracks near the tunnel entrance that were still glowing with a piercing red heat, lost in thought.
The next moment, a hand waved in front of his eyes.
“Hey! Play a card, what are you staring at?” shouted Daviel, who was currently in his human form.
“...”
Cezar snapped back to reality and calmly drew a card from his hand, placing it on the ground.
“A three of hearts.”
“Hmm...” Sitting cross-legged opposite him, the little black dragon, who had a pair of black underpants pulled over his head, rubbed his chin. His eyes swept back and forth across the cards in his hand as he muttered softly, “Truly a formidable opponent.”
After hesitating for a moment, as if having made up his mind, he pinched a card with two fingers, held it before his eyes, and declared with determination, “Alright! I choose you!”
He then slammed the card onto the ground with a dull thud. The sheer force of the impact flipped the three of hearts face down.
“Woohoo!”
Daviel jumped up in excitement. “Your card got flipped over, you lose!”
“Hahaha! Quick, quick, quick! Your turn!”
“Your Grace's card skills are truly breathtaking.”
Offering a perfunctory compliment, Cezar placed all his cards on the ground. Following their pre-arranged punishment, he picked up the white underpants resting beside him and pulled them over his head.
The fabric of the underpants was semi-transparent, so it didn't block his vision.
Through the fabric, Cezar could clearly see the little black dragon, who had excitedly yanked the underpants off his own head and was now doing a handstand breakdance. But soon, Cezar's focus drifted past him, landing on the massive metal construct broken into three sections behind Daviel.
That was the object His Grace had named the “alien spaceship.”
By now, they had cleared away the soil surrounding the spaceship, creating a massive underground cavern.
They had also sealed the ceiling of the cavern with dirt, ensuring that this underground space could not be discovered from the outside.
Originally, they had planned to dismantle the spaceship and take it back for research once the railway was connected, but that would probably have to be postponed now.
Cezar's gaze grew complicated.
Not long ago, driven by curiosity, he had gone inside to explore.
Inside, he had found many “iron cans.”
But when he opened the helmets of what were called power armor, he... saw his own kind. Or rather, his ancestors—
The skeletal remains of ancient beastkin.
What an absurd sight.
Only then did he recall the legends passed down by word of mouth through every generation of priests in his tribe.
During the darkest era of the continent, their beastkin race had once piloted flying ships made of steel, soaring through the Astral Realm, hunting down and waging war against the high and mighty gods.
The cowardly gods had trembled in fear before the torrent of steel, chased from one end of the Astral Realm to the other.
Divine blood had splattered across the entire starry sky.
In the past, his grandfather, who was the tribe's priest, would smoke his pipe and tell him these legends as bedtime stories at night.
He had always thought they were just self-deceiving fairy tales made up by their ancestors who refused to accept their defeat, so he had never wanted to listen.
After all, who would be foolish enough to build a giant ship out of steel?
A ship that heavy would probably sink the moment it touched water.
Even if magic was used to forcibly bring the ship into the Astral Realm, in that void of space, there would be neither water currents to push it nor wild winds to blow its sails.
A steel ship would be nothing more than a pile of immobile scrap metal up there.
It probably wouldn't even run fast if propelled by mana.
How could it possibly chase the gods and make them flee in all directions?
But now, he was beginning to believe it.
So, there really were ships made of steel. According to His Grace's descriptions, these spaceships could truly traverse the Astral Realm.
It turned out his grandfather hadn't lied to him...
If possible, he really wanted to hear his grandfather tell those legends and stories passed down through generations once more.
Unfortunately, even if he wanted to listen now, he could no longer do so.
“Grandfather...”
Whispering softly, Cezar lowered his head and pulled out a stone tablet hanging around his neck by a string from his collar.
On both sides of the stone tablet, a humanoid figure was carved.
The carvings were very crude, like a child's graffiti, only slightly better than stick figures.
But from the signature features, one could vaguely distinguish that one side depicted an ancient beastkin.
On the other side, the humanoid figure had no distinct features, making it impossible to tell whether it was an elf, a barbarian, or a human...
This was an heirloom that only the priest of each generation could wear, and it was the only thing his grandfather had left him.
Whenever he missed him, Cezar would look at this stone tablet, recalling the image of the old man telling stories under the moonlight night after night...
“Hup!” Daviel did a somersault and scrambled up from the ground. With a wave of his hand, the scattered cards on the floor spontaneously gathered into two neat stacks on either side.
“Come, come, come, another round!”
Sitting cross-legged and grabbing one of the stacks, the little black dragon shouted merrily, “This card game my sister invented called Three Kingdoms Kill is so fucking fun!”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Cezar carefully tucked the stone tablet away, picked up his stack of cards, drew one, and played it. “My turn. I summon the Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon.”
“Ho!” Daviel furrowed his brows and licked his lips.
“Cezar, your card skills are really improving.”
But his gaze instantly sharpened. “Do you think you can defeat me with just this?”
He then violently drew a card and slammed it onto the ground.
“I activate the spell card, Snatch! Now your Blue-Eyes is mine!”
Saying so, Daviel prepared to draw another card.
“Next, it's still my turn! My choice is...”
Halfway through his sentence, he suddenly froze. Under Cezar's puzzled gaze, he pulled a constantly vibrating black scale from his storage ring.
“Hold on, I'm getting a magic transmission.”
Daviel pursed his lips and placed the scale against his ear with an impatient look.
“Hey, Sis, what's up? I'm busy right now...”
A moment later, hanging up the transmission, Daviel waved his hand in disappointment and threw the cards in his hand onto the ground.
“No more playing, no more playing. The war is starting. Sis is calling us back to guard the base...”
Rate on N.U.
