Chapter 126: The Power of the Crown Princess's Halo

I tossed the heavy wrench onto the console, threw my hands up in dramatic defeat, and delivered the grim verdict. “Can’t fix it. Absolutely cannot fix it!”

Yato blinked, her normally stoic expression cracking into a rare mask of genuine disbelief. “Doctor, even you can’t replicate this device?”

Just how advanced do you think the technology in this navigation system is?!

I mournfully held up the shattered, sparking remains of the vehicle’s navigation unit. “Unfortunately, the signal receiver is completely fried. Right now, let alone GPS, even our standard Rhodes Island terminals are dead zones thanks to the lingering interference from that damned castle. The metal core inside is warped beyond melting, and last I checked, I am not a walking machine tool. Unless Rosmontis’s operational precision miraculously skyrockets to EX-tier right this second, there’s no way I can direct her to piece this junk back together.”

Sitting on a nearby folding chair, Mu Luo shrank in on himself, thoroughly guilty. He kept his gaze firmly glued to the floorboards, not daring to meet my eyes.

How was he supposed to know the outside world was so fragile? Everything inside the Crimson Troupe was the Phantom-exclusive, highly durable version. How could he have known the dashboard would just rip right off when he pulled on it?

The legendary figures who had just spent the last few hours casually annihilating everything in their path inside the castle now sat in a useless circle, exchanging blank looks.

“So,” I asked, crossing my arms. “Who knows the way?”

“Doctor, navigation is the only field operational project where I didn’t receive an Excellent rating,” Yato analyzed with cold, clinical calm. “Usually, Noir Corne handles this aspect of our deployments.”

“Who would bother memorizing the terrain when we have GPS?” Steward chimed in. Leave it to the honest man to speak the brutal truth.

The Playwright and Mu Luo didn’t even dare to look up. As two absolute shut-ins of the Crimson Castle, they felt physically uncomfortable just being exposed to natural sunlight. On the rare occasions they actually went outside, they just blindly followed the Troupe Mouthpiece—much like the famous actor Bacchus—singing wherever they went and dying wherever they dropped. Ultimately, they just relied on the Crimson Castle to scurry around the wasteland and pick them up.

Looking at this hopeless roster and confirming that absolutely no one was going to step up to lead the way, I let out a melancholic sigh and tilted my head back. “Don’t panic. Actually, I know a little bit about astronomy. Let me just find the Big Dipper…”

I looked up, genuinely appreciating the night sky of Terra for the first time since I got here.

The canopy of the sky was as black as rich satin, dotted with stars that shimmered like fragmented diamonds. They were scattered above the drifting clouds in a way that felt both orderly and wild. The brightest ones were arranged in several distinct rows, looking almost like unrestrained running script, as if someone had splashed ink across the heavens with a massive brush…

Wait.

Loyalty!

I tilted my head, squinting hard to confirm the sheer absurdity of it. The stars were literally spelling out the word “Loyalty.”

I already knew that Terra was wrapped in the Starpod, and that the sky was essentially just a massive artificial texture, but applying the texture with absolutely zero effort was just insulting!

Did the developer who designed this star map think they were being clever? If I ever catch you, I swear…!

I looked back down. Several operators were still staring at me with bright, trusting faces, waiting for their brilliant tactician to utter some deep truth about the cosmos.

“How about we look at the local wildlife? We don’t happen to have any pigeon-type Liberi among us, do we…?” I scanned the group and disappointedly realized that not a single one of the little animals I brought on this trip had any homing instincts.

And it wasn’t like I could just reach across dimensions and pull out the carrier pigeon I forgot to update yesterday!

Enduring the scorching, expectant gazes of the operators around me, I braced myself and patted Yato heavily on the shoulder. “Alright…”

“I am here, Doctor,” Yato responded instantly, her posture rigid and ready.

“We are going to use the Hypergryph Positioning Method.” I zipped up my jacket with a completely straight face, pulled out a random strip of fabric, and tied it securely over her eyes. “Spin thirty times, then point in a random direction. Whichever way you point, that’s where we drive.”

Listen here, Hypergryph. If you don’t want your precious Crown Princess wandering the barren wastelands with me until she starves, you’d better know what to do.

Yato tilted her blindfolded head. “?”

“Doctor, can we really find the way back to Rhodes Island using this method?” Steward asked, his voice laced with heavy skepticism.

“It should work… Just believe in me. If I’m wrong, I’ll permanently transfer Adnachiel’s field mission subsidy directly to your account, Steward!”

“Why am I suddenly involved in a financial bet?”

“Shouldn’t the real focus here be on why Adnachiel even has a field mission subsidy in the first place…?”

Twenty-plus grueling hours later, the transport vehicle rolled to a halt. The group stared through the windshield at a weathered metal sign that read: Caladon City – 200 Meters Ahead.

A heavy, uniform silence filled the cabin.

Caladon City… I rubbed my temples. That’s a city in Victoria, right?

I racked my brain, trying hard to recall the game’s plotlines. The name sounded incredibly familiar, but the exact lore details were currently escaping my sleep-deprived mind.

Where exactly were we again?

Steward was the first to break the suffocating silence. “Wasn’t the Rhodes Island landship docked somewhere near Iberia?”

Yato’s immediate reaction was brutal self-reflection. She bowed her head. “I am so sorry, Doctor. It was the direction I pointed.”

How could the Doctor possibly be wrong? she thought bitterly. It must be that my spinning technique didn’t strictly adhere to the Doctor’s tactical parameters, which caused a catastrophic navigational error!

Rosmontis, on the other hand, possessed absolutely zero anxiety about being hopelessly lost. She pressed her face against the glass, her feline ears twitching as she curiously observed the Victorian architecture she had never seen before.

“It’s not your fault, Yato… Let’s just go. We’ll head inside and take a look around first.” I picked up Rosmontis with one arm, feeling a mixture of helpless amusement and exhaustion. I gave Yato a comforting pat. “Maybe ending up here is a good thing. It just so happens that our vehicle’s supplies are running dangerously low. We can trade some Pure Gold with the locals to restock.”

In reality, our supplies had bottomed out ages ago. When I drove us out here, I had only packed for a simple one-day excursion. Over the past few days, the only reason we hadn’t starved to death in the wasteland was entirely because PRTS and I were secretly abusing the Base Crafting mechanics. Whenever no one was looking, I was desperately converting raw dirt into Originium, and then synthesizing that Originium into military combat rations. The heavy supply box I was currently lugging around was literally just full of soil and Originium debris; whenever someone asked for a snack, I would just grab a handful of dirt and fabricate a ration bar on the spot.

Doraemon-Doctor to the rescue. Aren’t my game mechanics amazing?

The moment we walked through the town’s main gates, the most eye-catching thing in the plaza was a massive, freshly painted notice board: Promote Equality Between Infected and Non-Infected. Live in Harmony.

I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. This specific topic was the ultimate political correctness of Terra. It didn’t matter if the local culture was built on isolating the Infected, enslaving them, aggressively discriminating against them, or outright slaughtering them in the streets—someone, somewhere, always had to stand up and preach about harmony.

The advantage of this rhetoric was that it allowed progressive ideas to blossom. The disadvantage was that it literally never solved anything. The standard Terran formula always played out the same way: a peaceful plan would encounter a tragic ‘accident’, the fragile social structure would instantly collapse into violent riots, and then some overpowered monster would descend from the heavens to break all the laws of physics with brute force, resolving the mastermind’s grand conspiracy through overwhelming violence. In the end, everyone would stand dramatically on the burning ruins, sighing about how the road to equality was long and arduous, vowing to never give up.

Just as I was lost in my cynical internal monologue, my gaze shifted.

Through the window of a nearby alleyway, I suddenly spotted a very familiar sword.

Even though the scabbard was battered and the complex patterns etched into the metal were faded with wear, I could tell at a single glance that the engravings were a high-tier conduction formula for Originium Arts. The hilt’s input interface was standard Ursus military issue. If I translated the runic effect correctly, it meant: When Originium Arts are channeled, the blade will be enveloped in raging fire, turning deep red.

Wait, is this…?

I subconsciously turned my head. At the corner of a quiet street near the main road, hanging above an inconspicuous little shop, was a faded Rhodes Island logo. The shop’s name was written in warm, inviting yellow LED strip lights: Green Spark.

Hold on a second… Caladon City… Green Spark… The gears in my head violently clicked into place. Then the guy who just walked past us… was that Redblade?!

Yato was walking slightly ahead of me, her shoulders slumped in guilt, when I suddenly slapped her hard on the back, my voice practically vibrating with excitement.

“Incredible work, Yato!”

She flinched, instinctively trying to deny the praise. “No, Doctor, I didn’t do anything, I just led us the wrong way…”

“Not another word! You did perfectly! I just remembered I need to buy a fresh pot of catnip for Phantom. Let’s go!”

Ignoring her utter confusion, I grabbed her sleeve and dragged the entire bewildered squad straight toward the small, glowing shop.

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent! 🙇‍♂️):

Massive thanks for reading and supporting the operation!]