Chapter 226: Brother Rast, I’ve Been Waiting in Canaan All This Ti
Brother Rast toyed with the small chanical core in his hand.
Clearly cold and composed of innurable particles condensed into an amorphous liquid tal, yet with the movent of Brother Rast’s fingertips, that cube-like chanical core freely changed its form.
A chanical creation, yet at this mont, it seed to have been granted life.
「chanical Core」
This term was not unfamiliar to Brother Rast.
In the real world beyond the Nightfall, any qualified chanist would inevitably possess a chanical core uniquely their own, one they had signed a Soul Imprint contract with.
It was a creation linked to each chanist’s fate, sharing a common soul… and also the hub that allowed chanists to unify all their chanical constructs, weapons, and techniques into a cohesive whole.
Put simply, it was the equivalent of the “personal intelligence brain” often depicted in many of Brother Rast’s fantasies from his past life.
It was precisely because the chanical core was connected to the soul that chanists required neither verbal commands nor specific operations—just a single thought in the mind was enough to manifest the tactical applications, preset plans… and a wide array of technological weapons stored in their database and arsenal, directly into reality.
And as the most important item to any chanist, the chanical core was also sothing that could be upgraded.
As chanists updated their databases, mastered newer technologies, and equipped more powerful destructive armants… the chanical core would likewise evolve, even transcend its previous form.
Within Star Cluster University, for example, Dean Agatha of Ashes College, and the Second Imperial Princess Ophelia—these top-tier chanists who wielded forbidden weapons capable of threatening legends—their chanical cores, bound to their souls, had already undergone countless iterations and upgrades. They were the crystallization of all the chanist’s devotion and knowledge throughout their lifeti.
And what Brother Rast had obtained from the Nightfall’s reward at this mont… was also a chanical core—one that was completely blank, still in its initial state, and had yet to be contracted.
However, the chanical core Brother Rast received differed from those possessed by all chanists in reality.
“Relic…”
He softly spoke the term that flickered continuously in front of him.
The chanical Fla Source he had obtained—Nightfall did not categorize it as an ordinary “crest equipnt,” but instead as a “Relic.”
This was the first ti Brother Rast had ever received a reward of this tier from a Nightfall mission… Not just for him—even within the entire database of Star Cluster University, there seed to be no such precedent.
However, given Brother Rast’s current breadth of experience, he was not completely ignorant of the term “Relic.”
It was a materialized Miracle, a crystallization of humanity’s desire for miracles, and the radiant echo of a glorious civilization.
Each Relic symbolized a magnificent and grand epic of civilization.
Just as described in the annotation entry provided by Nightfall—
「Relic」: This is the honor bestowed by ti upon those heroes who once stood at the turning points of human history.
From this standpoint, Brother Rast truly deserved this Relic reward.
If it weren’t for Brother Rast, the little grey-haired girl would never have been rescued from Frozenwater Town and reborn, and there would never have been the future leader Grey who led the rise of civilization.
If it weren’t for Brother Rast, the Gravekeeper Angel Noah—unbound by the constraint of the “Death Grail”—might have rewritten the outco of the Battle of the Broken Shore, steering everything toward a world line where the Shoreguard lost…
Brother Rast had left behind far too many footprints in the latter half of the Sixth Era, even directly altering the course of human history.
Naturally, without such monuntal achievents, he would not have been granted the reward of a “Relic.”
Gazing at the cube-like crystal in his hand, Brother Rast’s mind stirred.
He extended a trace of his ntal strength and gently touched the pitch-black cube chanical core.
In the next instant, countless chaotic data streams traveled along the soul circuit, transmitting from the chanical core into Brother Rast’s consciousness.
They were endless streams of data composed of 0s and 1s.
Contained within those data streams… was the pinnacle technological crystallization of that brilliant scientific civilization from the latter half of the Sixth Era—
From “Pseudo-Artificial Intelligence” to the “Virtual Reality Projection” technology used in the fully imrsive ga The Song of the Shoreguard.
From the “chanical Modification of Flesh” involved in the “Artificial Angel Project,” to the use of “Sub-dinsional Folding Technology” and “Miniaturized Controlled Nuclear Fusion” in constructing dinsional shelters…
This chanical core was the distilled essence of over two centuries of Sixth Era developnt, spanning industry, agriculture, military, and dicine… What appeared to be an unremarkable database was, in fact, the repository of all advanced knowledge from that civilization.
Yet, at the source of the database—the core of the chanical Fla Source—was a blank void.
It wasn’t until Brother Rast’s spiritual force touched that void, blank as a sheet of paper, that it slowly engraved his Soul Imprint upon it.
Brother Rast retracted his ntal strength.
Although the chanical core in his hand still maintained its previous appearance, he could clearly feel that an invisible link had ford between himself and the cube-like crystal.
That was the contract established after engraving his imprint on that blank space—the soul circuit had connected them together.
It allowed the chanical core to transform freely with Brother Rast’s thoughts, resonating with his intent.
And that wasn’t all.
At the mont he ford a soul contract with the Relic, Brother Rast distinctly felt that those “crest” equipnts he previously possessed—
Whether it was the heavy-hitting revolver “Iron Moon,” the sniper rifle “Sevenfold View,” or the “Chapter of the Fire Thief” and the “Distant Poem of Days Past” he obtained after clearing the Battle of the Broken Shore…
These crest equipnts bound to his soul now seed to have ford so inexplicable link with the chanical core.
That cube-like chanical crystal was scanning these crest equipnts, analyzing them… attempting to incorporate them into its own database—its own system of chanical armants.
“Then, starting today, I suppose I count as a chanist too?”
“Even if I’m just a half-baked one.”
Brother Rast’s mind stirred, and that chanical core dissolved into scattered tal particles with his will, dispersing across his body’s surface, forming a tal ring in the shape of an ouroboros… extrely inconspicuous, barely noticeable without close inspection.
“Even if it’s just the chanical core’s initial form… it’s still a true Relic—”
“To develop it into a matured form like Ophelia’s or Dean Agatha’s, who knows how many resources it’ll take.”
Brother Rast sighed with the lancholy of poverty.
Every chanist was truly a bottomless money pit—the kind that wouldn’t blink while devouring an entire city’s annual budget.
Not to ntion himself, a freak whose chanical core was of Relic grade.
One had to know, even modifying and enhancing ordinary crest equipnt required massive expenditures… The vast majority of the wealth and resources that Night Travelers obtained were invested into strengthening their crest weapons.
And although a Relic might look similar in form to crest equipnt on the outside, its core essence was on a completely different level.
The “Holy Sword” passed down through generations of the Granville Empire’s royal family, the “Fifth Testant” regarded as the national treasure of the Holy Kingdom of Faran…
And even, strictly speaking, the Eternal Night Stele passed down since the Age of the Gods, viewed by the Gravekeeper Angel organization as their ultimate trump card, was also a Relic from the First Era.
This was the kind of thing that only powerful forces at the level of a nation qualified to preserve, and yet Brother Rast was expected to support a Relic all on his own… Just the thought of it gave him a headache.
“Forget it. I’ll think about that later.”
“Didn’t Hiltina’s stepmother, the current empress of the Granville Empire, still have that idea of wanting to take in as her son-in-law…”
“At worst, I’ll just humble myself and go hug Her Highness the Princess’s thick thighs…”
“Living off a woman isn’t shaful.”
Brother Rast swept his gaze around him.
At this mont, the curtain of Eternal Night had completely descended, separating Dean Silver from Brother Rast’s side.
He was now drifting through the boundless night, rising and falling aimlessly.
Only in this kind of empty setting would Brother Rast say sothing like that. Had it been otherwise, and if that gossip-loving weasel had overheard it, it would’ve spelled real trouble.
“In any case, this Nightfall journey is more or less over.”
“Next…”
His murmuring paused slightly.
By now, this wasn’t Brother Rast’s first ti using the interstice between Nightfall and the real world, the alternate cycles of night and day… to visit that little town called 「Canaan」.
But never before had he felt such blazing heat in his chest, overflowing with scorching emotion.
Anticipation, longing, uncertainty, confusion, worry…
Countless feelings entwined together, burning fiercely at the depths of his soul.
“No matter what, everything has to end with a final punctuation mark, right?”
As if encouraging himself, after speaking those words, Brother Rast gently raised his right hand.
He didn’t manifest the heavy revolver nad 「Iron Moon」, but simply ford the shape of a gun with his fingers, pressing it to his temple.
“Which ans——”
“This ti might be the last ti I ever use this ntal trigger.”
Bang——
It was clearly nothing but a fake, childlike finger-gun gesture…
But at the mont the imaginary trigger was pulled, it felt as if a burst of brilliant firelight had truly erupted in this endless black night.
Amid the dispersing white light and the boundless dark, Brother Rast felt his consciousness slowly fade.
Everything before his eyes turned into radiant bubbles of light and color, dissolving into nothingness.
And he was imrsed in that strange sensation, lost with no clear destination.
……
When Brother Rast’s consciousness revived once more, he found himself on a vibrant green hillside.
Soft grass blanketed the slope. Below it lay a lake like a silver mirror, beside which sat a tranquil town. Beyond it rose undulating mountain ranges, their peaks coated in white snow.
The wind swept across the hilltop, rustling the treetops above him. A white windmill near the town slowly turned, casting massive shadows across the lake’s surface with its blades.
A gentle and lodious sonata drifted into his ears.
What t his gaze was the side profile of a golden-haired girl, her eyes lightly closed as she played a flute in her hands.
The hem of her white dress fluttered in the breeze. Morning light filtered through the leaves overhead, casting fragnted shadows.
Looking at those faintly trembling, pale golden lashes rising and falling with her breath, Brother Rast finally realized that the girl before him was currently cradling the back of his head with the softest skin on the inside of her thighs.
That was——the so-called 「lap pillow」.
Everything before him—whether it was the Three Sages Snow Mountain in the distance, the rotating white windmill, or the flute-playing girl… it was all so familiar.
Feeling that peaceful, tranquil atmosphere, Brother Rast’s heart slowly settled down.
The Machine Calamity that destroyed the world, the Watchtower shattered by thunder, the Judgent Angel who annihilated everything, the end of the Sixth Era, Grey’s Grand Wish to Fate that carved open the Nightfall…
All echoes of history had grown infinitely distant, like an ancient dream from long ago.
As expected, in the end, the only place where soone could completely let down their guard, lower their defenses, and truly relax… was the place they were most familiar with—one’s ho.
For Brother Rast, his “ho” was Canaan.
He had lived here far too long—long enough to have grown old and gray.
It seed that the golden-haired girl noticed Brother Rast waking up…
Before his eyes, the girl stopped playing the flute in her hands. Her pale golden lashes trembled gently, and her eyes slowly opened.
Those were a pair of sky-blue eyes, as pure and captivating as ancient glacial ice on a snow-capped mountain.
The instant he saw those eyes, the final trace of doubt in Brother Rast’s heart vanished completely.
He knew—the girl before him was Aiith, not the one he had once feared… that so-called “pseudo-artificial intelligence trained through big data.”
“Looks like… this day has finally co.”
Those sky-blue eyes were just as gentle as in Brother Rast’s mories, but compared to the usual Aiith, there was sothing new and indescribable in her gaze.
Previously, Aiith had sealed a portion of her mories from Canaan herself, so that he wouldn’t notice anything unusual.
But now, with their reunion in the Nightfall beyond Canaan, that lock had finally dissolved.
“Brother Rast……”
“I’ve always… been waiting for you in Canaan.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)