Sergeant Victor fell silent. He could sense that Zeke was not making empty promises.
After a long while, Victor spoke slowly, asking the final and most core question:
"So, you want these materials, you seek these talents... but what is your ultimate goal?"
"My goal?" Zeke cast his gaze toward the Eye of Terror that hung eternally above Cadia.
Sergeant Victor followed his gaze.
That thing was the eternal nightmare in the hearts of all Cadians, of all warriors of the Imperium.
Zeke withdrew his gaze and looked at Victor.
"That thing," he pointed at the sky, "it’s quite an eyesore, isn’t it?"
Zeke extended his hand calmly toward Sergeant Victor.
"Well? Do we have a deal?"
"If everything you’ve said is true..." Sergeant Victor’s voice remained steady, losing so of its initial aggression.
"Why not?"
The two hands clasped together.
Phew. Bela let out a sigh of relief. He almost thought the deal he had worked so hard to facilitate was going to fall through.
Karmine clutched her head, muttering, "That damn old man. Why does he have to make a negotiation feel like a heresy trial?"
Sergeant Victor coughed, signaling Zeke to follow him. The two arrived at the makeshift tactical table.
On the table lay an aerial map of the entire Tyrok Fields.
"We are here right now." Sergeant Victor took a fountain pen from his breast pocket.
The nib landed on the bottom left corner of the map, drawing a red circle.
The pen looked old but was extrely well-maintained, with a gold-plated nib.
Engraved in small, cursive script on the end of the pen were the words: To dear Victor, my eternal comrade and brother.
"And Tyrok Bastion is here." Victor moved his wrist, tapping the pen tip in the very center of the map.
"Straight-line distance, roughly twenty kiloters. The area between us and it is crawling with rebel forces."
He looked up at Zeke. "Dance ntioned to that you seem to have a way to dig underground tunnels quickly?"
There was a trace of suppressed hope in his tone.
"Twenty kiloters..." Zeke didn’t answer imdiately, performing a quick ntal calculation.
One standard block equals one cubic ter.
Digging stone with an Iron Pickaxe takes about 0.5 seconds. Twenty kiloters is 20,000 ters, which is equivalent to 20,000 blocks.
Digging ti = 20,000 * 0.5 seconds = 10,000 seconds ≈ 2.78 hours.
If we consider the width of the tunnel to allow more people to pass, the ti might multiply several tis over.
But even then, five or six tis the duration is still only a dozen hours!
Zeke himself was slightly startled by the result of this calculation.
Is this the terrifying power of the Block Man?
And it could be faster. Zeke thought of the Blueprint Mod he had unlocked a few days ago.
"Do you have paper?"
"Paper? I have so." Karmine interjected, taking out her notebook.
She tore out one page, thought it was too little, tore out three more, and handed them to Zeke.
Zeke took the paper, pulled out Bone al, and used it on the ground to instantly grow a Cornflower.
He crafted the Cornflower into Blue Dye, then combined it with the paper to create a Blueprint.
In the Blueprint interface, several preset architectural template icons were displayed.
These were the structures Dance had taught him just a few days ago.
[Cadian Surface Bunker], [Cadian Underground Bunker], [Standard Trench].
Zeke selected the third option, [Standard Trench]. A translucent, ghostly model of a trench appeared in his vision.
Controlled by his mind, he could move, rotate, scale, and stretch it at will.
The Blueprint interface simultaneously displayed the detailed material list required to construct this 20-kiloter standard trench:
Cobblestone x 1024, Wood x 256, Iron Pickaxe x 10, Iron Shovel x 10.
After thoroughly understanding the requirents, Zeke nodded to Sergeant Victor. "If we dig, it should only take about a day to get there."
"One day?!" Victor’s voice pitched up a notch.
"Are you sure? Twenty kiloters. In one day?" Victor asked again.
"Positive," Zeke answered, brief and forceful.
The stone-carved seriousness on Victor’s face finally lted away, replaced by palpable joy.
At this mont, a thought occurred to Zeke.
"Sergeant Victor, even if we successfully infiltrate, the number of traitors inside the Bastion is likely significant. Instead of providing support, we might just get ourselves wiped out."
Victor’s brow furrowed. Zeke was right. Counting everyone in their camp, they had barely five combat-ready personnel.
Victor looked at Zeke. "Do you have any ideas?"
"I have a plan..."
–
The sky over Cadia was gloomier than usual.
War had burned many things to ash, and these ashes were swept up into the atmosphere, plunging the entire plain into darkness.
In this darkness, if anyone looked up, they would discover a single point of light.
It was Zeke. He was currently pillar-jumping with cobblestone, building step by step toward the sky.
The cobblestone pillar was covered in torches, shining like starlight.
This height should be about right. Zeke took out the radio antenna he was carrying on his back. Hope this works.
He thought to himself as he switched on the antenna.
"Victor, it’s ready up here. You can start."
"Fellow citizens of Cadia, this is Sergeant Victor."
Zeke listened to the voice coming from the radio as he looked down at the devastated land.
The radio was broadcasting the signal to every corner of the plain.
In a shell crater, a blood-soaked soldier curled up, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the sand trickling down the rim of the pit.
He knew this place would beco his grave.
The mud-stained comms unit in his arms hissed with static.
"We are facing an unprecedented crisis. This was a preditated plot."
"A conspiracy long planned by Abaddon the Despoiler. He inserted a traitor force into the Bastion, leading to our current situation."
Inside a wrecked armored vehicle, a driver was pinned to his seat by twisted tal, one leg having lost all sensation.
He struggled to reach out and twist the radio knob to the correct channel.
"Many died in the sudden attack just now. We don’t even know if we’ll survive until tomorrow."
In a cellar, three soldiers surrounded a dic whose breathing was weak. Only suppressed sobbing could be heard in the darkness.
"The situation is as bad as it gets, isn’t it?"
"So, I implore you all. Look up."
Look up?
The soldier in the crater struggled to his knees; the driver in the wreckage forced his head around to look through the cracked window; the warriors in the cellar pushed aside the camouflage atop their hideout.
It was... Light.
On the horizon, a stone pillar stood between heaven and earth, its summit burning with fire.
"At Tyrok Bastion, the place besieged by traitors, a unit is still putting up a stubborn resistance."
"We must help them. We need to gather all remaining strength."
"I implore everyone: Rally towards the light!"
The broadcast ca to an abrupt halt. The plains fell into a brief silence, save for the wind and distant explosions.
Sergeant Victor’s finger remained pressed tight against the microphone. There was no response.
Has the situation beco that critical? Sergeant Victor trembled slightly.
But in the next mont, voices exploded from the radio.
"111th Armored Regint, copy! We have one engine still turning, and that’s enough. We’re heading to the beacon ASAP!"
"23rd Regint. Seven combat-ready. Breaking out now. Also, gotta say, that pillar is cool."
"This is Guerilla Squad. We’re picking up stragglers along the way. Everyone, move toward the light."
Then a fourth, a fifth... Sporadic, yet incredibly firm voices began to ring out over the radio.
High in the air, Zeke watched the dust spiral up and into the Eye of Terror, swallowed by the abyss.
Is there any point? The Eye of Terror seed to mock the land below and the insignificant insects upon it.
The [RAID] progress bar in Zeke’s vision had only just reached 1/10. This was destined to be a long war.
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