Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1058: Chapter 1057: Beltira’s Technical Path

Bard looked at Andresha standing before him—the image of the little girl awkwardly running toward him in the courtyard was slowly fading away, eventually leaving only some broken silhouettes mixed in his ever-fading memories.

Standing before him was a grown-up Empire military officer, steady, brave, with a tenacious will and unwavering faith, and with her own life trajectory.

”You will safely return to Typhon—as proof of the friendly relations established between the two nations, as a good beginning,” he pondered aloud, ”His Majesty... I mean His Majesty Gawain Cecil, he will prepare the groundwork and guide public opinion for you, Aldernon will also have corresponding arrangements, part of the truth behind the war will be disclosed, and you’ll return as a meritorious figure, not a defeated captured commander...”

”I know,” Andresha said calmly, ”It’s good for both countries and can better utilize my value, but no matter what, Aldernon has to offer something for my safe return, right...”

”That’s not for you to worry about,” Bard shook his head, ”His Majesty Rosetta understands the price for a Wolf General, you just need to cooperate with Aldernon’s decision.”

”Of course, I will,” Andresha said as usual, yet she couldn’t help but take another look at her father, saying with a touch of hesitation, ”Then you... will you return afterward...”

Bard seemed to have anticipated she would bring up this matter sooner or later, his answer was clear: ”I no longer belong to Typhon, both publicly and privately, I’m not suitable to appear in Aldernon again. The life of Wolf General Bard Wendell has ended, my presence would only affect Aldernon’s situation, so here there’s only Bard the researcher. Andresha, you should understand what I mean.”

”...Yes, I understand,” the young Wolf General sighed lightly, then looked up towards the direction of the Sorin Giant Tree—she saw several aircraft flying in from afar, buzzing as they headed towards a crack at the lower canopy, piquing her curiosity, ”Lately there seems to be a lot of strangely shaped aircraft around?”

Bard’s expression became odd: ”Madam Beltira is testing her brain to achieve more functions and letting them autonomously collaborate away from the main body—further details are classified, I can’t tell you.”

Andresha: ”...What are you talking about?”

”...Well, it’s indeed hard to understand, best not to inquire, it’s good for mental health,” Bard thought of the bizarre projects ongoing inside the biochemical laboratories of the Sorin Giant Tree, his expression becoming even more peculiar, considering even he, a former priest of the Oblivion Association, sometimes couldn’t grasp Beltira’s aesthetic, he decisively changed the subject, ”We’ve been blowing wind in the courtyard long enough, you’ve just recovered not long ago, better control the time of outdoor activities.”

Andresha seemed a bit helpless: ”I’ve stayed enough indoors, the feeling of having nothing to do is more exhausting than fighting on the battlefield.”

”Nothing to do?” Bard gave his daughter a look, suddenly recalling something, ”Ah, I do have some suggestions—remember the exercises we hadn’t finished last time? We can start with simple equations...”

Andresha: ”...?!”

...

Sorin’s canopy, the gentle wind blows, enormous and lush leaves shuffle and rub between branches, creating a sound like continuous waves, while deep within layers of shaking branches and leaves, the sturdy woody structure forms an extremely dense, undisturbed, and undeformable barrier framework. Between these frameworks, multi-layered wood mixed with metal separated from deep underground, connected layer by layer, grew into a massive room structure, with corridors or stairways linking rooms, plants emitting bright and soft glows illuminate these inner spaces—this is Beltira’s private ”human” territory for her intricate research in biochemical labs.

Compared to the initial crude form with merely a hall, these labs deep within the canopy have expanded several times in size, strengthening their internal functions and tasks they can undertake, and considering human assistants coming to aid, Beltira made many humane adaptations to the internal space. Now this ”upper-level lab” stands alongside the ”underground biochemical center” located at the tree roots’ underground ruins, and the ”Druid Research Institute” at Sorinburg, forming one of the three biochemical labs of the Sorin Region.

In fact, because of the unique ”natural” environment and convenient conditions of the Sorin Region, this area is undertaking more biochemical research tasks today. Each quarter, the Empire increases its funding and personnel input in this aspect, more and more Druids bring their projects here, making this reborn-from-the-ashes land the biotechnological center of the Cecil Empire.

It’s a scene Beltira hadn’t imagined when she once crawled from the ruins underground, facing this altered land with her altered self.

Deep in the upper-level lab within an oval hall, the half-human half-plant Beltira moved gracefully and silently, supported by many tendrils, checking the neural nodes on nearby walls, while a large magic crystal was embedded at the end of the hall wall, shining and projecting external holographic images. In the projection, aircraft were steadily landing in the giant tree’s hangar.

A little old man, hunched and white-haired, stood before the projection, watching attentively as the aircraft docked smoothly, seeing a large brain detach from its nutrients in the upper cabin, watching it pat the droplets hanging from its body with neural tendrils, then fly towards a certain corridor within the hangar.

”...These ’brains’ are more astonishing now,” the old man turned towards Beltira, ”Are these subtle operations under your control too?”

”I can directly control, but it lacks efficiency,” Beltira passed by without looking back, ”These simple matters can be pre-programmed, letting the ’brains’ decide themselves. After all, they’re efficient thinking organs, imparting them with simple autonomous intelligence is even easier than programming logic into the Iron Man’s mind core.”

Pittman blinked: ”Ah, you don’t mention, I almost forgot, you were a Gondor once.”

”As the Empire’s Chief Druid, you came all this way just to study how my ’synthetic brains’ fly around?” Beltira finally stopped her busy movement, looking at Pittman with some confusion, while on the wall behind her, a dozen cultivation chambers flickered with rhythmic dark red light streams, contracting and pulsating like hearts.

”Observing your ’Synthetic Brains’ is indeed the main purpose of my visit this time—using the word invented by His Majesty, it’s called ’inspection,’” Pittman said with a smile as he walked toward Beltira. ”His Majesty is very pleased with the performance of the Psychic Choir and Wetware Servo and has likewise developed a strong interest in your ’Synthetic Brains,’ so he sent me to take a look at these things in person... By the way, are you busy at the moment?”

”Can’t you tell?” Beltira wanted to roll her eyes, but her nervous system forgot how to make this human expression, so she merely spread her hands. Then she turned around, pointing her arm at the cultivation pods fixed on the walls. ”The improved second-generation Synthetic Brains are at a critical stage of development. I must ensure each one is healthy and robust until they all mature.”

As Beltira’s voice fell, the cultivation pods simultaneously emitted a slight friction sound, and then their tough, thick outer skins slid off one by one under the pull of muscle groups, revealing a transparent inner shell like some kind of giant egg inside. Each ”brain,” in a dormant state, was immersed in the semi-transparent nutrient liquid inside the shell, connected by neural fibers and nutrient conduits. Between some of the conduits, one could even see a faint glow flowing.

Pittman watched this scene, his eyelid twitching involuntarily: ”Indeed, it was wise of me to quit halfway back then...”

”Don’t you find them somewhat adorable?” Beltira couldn’t help but glance at Pittman. She knew that this ”chief druid of the Empire” was actually once a member of the Oblivion Association, and was even considered one of her subordinates back in the day. But those past relations have long faded away with time, and those who lived to this day chose to get along with a peaceful mind. ”I’ve adjusted their size and form as much as possible, and anyone who interacts with them should know that these ’brains’ are very gentle and harmless. They even have a fondness for sweets and berry bushes...”

Pittman couldn’t help but cover his forehead: ”The fact that these ’Synthetic Brains’ can forage for food on their own is strange enough, who still cares about their diet?”

Beltira seemed not to hear Pittman’s muttering, as she only inspected the state of the yet-to-mature ”brains,” meticulously recording each of their current neural fluctuations. These complex neural engineering products, still in the late stage of development, could not yet perform complete thinking activities. They slept like infants, occasionally producing some dim and chaotic ”thoughts,” generating a signal impulse lasting less than half a second in the interconnected neural nodes. No one could hear their ”murmurs,” only Beltira could hear these low and trivial ”voices,” which were crucial for judging the condition of the Synthetic Brains.

”Actually, there’s something I’ve always been curious about,” Pittman wasn’t bothered by Beltira’s attitude as he continued to observe the Synthetic Brains, casually saying, ”I’ve looked at the structural diagrams of the Wetware Servo—you seem adamant about making the cockpit cover transparent. Why not add an opaque cover? You know many soldiers get startled when they first contact that thing, and your ’Synthetic Brains’ presumably don’t need normal vision to observe their surroundings.”

Beltira finished checking the condition of all the Synthetic Brains, controlling the protective layers of the cultivation pods to close, and replied very seriously: ”Every brain should have the right to bask in sunlight...”

”No, normal brains don’t bask in sunlight at all!” Pittman almost pulled his beard out, staring at her, ”You just can’t control your urge for photosynthesis!”

”Photosynth...,” Beltira suddenly froze, as if awakening from a dream. She stood in a daze for a few seconds before muttering to break the silence, ”Ah, so that’s it... No wonder I’ve always felt a cognitive error at the base of my nervous system that couldn’t be eliminated... so that’s it...”

She shook her head, her tone somewhat self-deprecating: ”I understand now, I’ll comply with the other technicians’ suggestions and add a shielding shell to the containers of future Synthetic Brains. Sorry, it seems I’ve unconsciously caused some trouble.”

”...We all understand, take it slowly, you’ll fully adapt one day,” Pittman sighed, pulling the already somewhat off-topic conversation back, ”Returning to the technical domain, His Majesty has been paying close attention to these ’Synthetic Brains’ you’ve crafted. Now we face the biggest question... can these brains only be ’produced’ by the Sorin Giant Tree?”

Beltira quickly responded: ”You mean whether they can be replicated through technological means, achieving mass production and increased output?”

”Synthetic Brains are a good thing, but at this stage, they are ultimately laboratory products—even though your laboratory is large enough to mass-produce Synthetic Brains, resembling a factory, there is ultimately only one Sorin Giant Tree,” Pittman shook his head, ”You’ve studied for so long, you should understand what ’magical industry’ is. In the face of a real industrial system and its potential, things that can’t be mass-produced have inherent shortcomings.”

”...I certainly understand, so I’ve also been contemplating this issue for some time,” Beltira mused for a moment, nodding gently, ”In theory, the production process of Synthetic Brains can indeed be carried out away from the Sorin Giant Tree.”

”You really can?” Pittman widened his eyes in surprise, ”Can you have this thing manufactured in a factory?”

”Not in the conventional sense of ’factory,’ but rather biological replication centers and... breeding grounds,” Beltira said thoughtfully, ”I know this sounds a bit strange, but you might already know the source of the genetic samples for the Synthetic Brains—the Skull of Nightmares from the Black Forest, the spirit-engulfing demons from Ancestral Peak, and other non-human monsters or beasts. Essentially, these ’Synthetic Brains’ are artificially synthesized and bred non-human monsters. You should know how humans have domesticated wolves into dogs, and how from a branch of predatory giant owls, they bred gryphons. In some sense, the process I use to create these brains is quite similar.

”Of course, this is a generalized statement. There are significant differences in practical technology and the difficulty of implementation between these two tasks.

”Back to the issue of mass production, I think there is indeed this possibility of relying on biologically controlled ordinary factories to cultivate these ’brains’ independently of the Sorin Giant Tree. As far as I know, you and your druid team have reconstructed the Enher Fusion Chamber and Cross-type Biomass Splitting Pool from the leftover technical data of the Oblivion Association and have made them harmless with modern technology. And these two things are key to cultivating ’Synthetic Brains.’ The only remaining problem is how to convert the knowledge I ’understand’ into something ordinary humans or elven druids can learn and master... Without overcoming this, even if I gave you the raw ’brain’ substrate, you still wouldn’t be able to guide and cultivate a complete ’Synthetic Brain’ from it.”

As Beltira spoke, she gently tapped her forehead—even though her appearance looked indistinguishable from a real person, the sound of knocking on wood was produced in this process: ”The change in life form has led my way of perceiving the world and thinking about problems to change as well. Although I still have a human heart, I can no longer think like a human. There are many things I know how to do, even as if by instinct, but it’s difficult to explain them to you. Like this ’room’ in front of you, I can get it to grow with just an idea, but I might have to spend half a year communicating with the druids assisting me to make them understand how this plant manipulation technique is accomplished.”

”This takes time, I understand,” Pittman nodded. ”But setting that aside, the mass production of the Synthetic Brains can indeed be realized, and it can be achieved within a reasonable timeframe, right?”

Beltira seriously thought for a moment before nodding slightly: ”That can be confirmed.”

”Then we can proceed with this project,” Pittman exhaled, ”In this way, the ’Wetware Host’ finally has the chance to officially take the stage, rather than merely being a special equipment for limited applications.”

(Double rations period, asking for monthly tickets!)