Wasteland Echoer.

Chapter 620 Shaneva's Trick
January 18, 558th year of the new calendar, 6:1 AM.

Crusde Federation, Far Northeast Region, Outer Naboa (Group) Mountains, former Military Outpost 08, Command Center for the Final Battle of Atlas, "Hyper Hub Office".

Shaneva examined the Khitan Ris ceramic teacup in her hand, gently fanning the air above it with her hand, trying to let the aroma of the tea leaves, which originated from the Flame Empire, enter her nasal cavity.

Unfortunately, the underground space, which had not been used for a long time, still retained a strong smell of rotting animal carcasses and an unbearable pungent dust odor, even after being cleaned multiple times by Novayask city legion soldiers.

Seeing that the desired aroma had not achieved the desired effect, Shaneva simply dropped her brief act of playing the noblewoman of the Crusad Empire, picked up the ceramic teacup, took a deep sip, and only then did she feel satisfied.

"Sure enough, during wartime, these things meant for people's enjoyment don't achieve the desired effect and are even ridiculed. Now, I can finally understand those former administrators," Shaneva remarked to herself.

"Understand them what, Commander Shaneva?" Mikhail asked, puzzled, sitting on a neoclassical elm sofa that blended elegance and simplicity.

In fact, Mikhail discovered them the moment the leader of the "Dedication Group," "Blood Wolf," infiltrated the "Former 08" military fortress in an attempt to carry out a decapitation strike.

However, Shaneva and Wright were having a very "harmonious" conversation at the time, and Mikhail was unwilling and unable to disturb her, so he had to take a group of his most trusted superhumans to intercept them.

It is unclear whether "Blood Wolf" intentionally spared him, the deputy head of the Federal Council and chairman of the Federal Strategic Group's "War Committee," to support him after killing Shaneva and to disrupt Cruz, or whether he simply did not have time to deal with him.

In short, Mikhail was only knocked unconscious immediately, suffered some minor injuries, including a broken half of his arm, a pierced thigh, and numerous wounds and deep scratches on his face and neck, but his life was not in danger.

After all, strictly speaking, Mikhail is a semi-superhuman. Like Shaneva, he is unwilling to show anyone the type of magical power he possesses. He is also a fan of technological weapons and, like most Federation soldiers, prefers to use weapons to decide the outcome of wars.

Therefore, Shaneva did not pursue Mikhail's potential dereliction of duty or desertion, but instead planned to promote him to another rank after the war ended.

“Understand what? It’s the indifference to desire, of course.” Shaneva took a sip of the Khitan Lis Valley tea, which was finally releasing its rich, fragrant aroma, savoring the rare sweetness after the war, and smiled.

“Among the executive officers of the Federal Council, there are no absolutely incompetent ones, Mikhail, don’t you find that strange?”

“Not surprising. A federal system is fundamentally different from an imperial system. Before the establishment of the Putoa Empire, it was long divided into more than a dozen republics. The leaders who dominated commerce in these republics rose to power through absolute talent, ruthless methods, and considerable wealth,” Mikhail replied, drawing on his historical knowledge.

"Therefore, they must be elites. Especially the Third Age, which the Putoa people called the eve of the Elite Age."

“No, I’m not talking about the leaders of the Federation and the Republic. Even an old imperial state like the Flame Empire has become a figurehead monarchy, hasn’t it? What I’m trying to say is that among the former administrative officials of the Crusad Federation, even if there were cowards, indecisive people, and even some selfish individuals, they all possessed high moral standards.” Shaneva put down her empty Khitan-style ceramic teacup and poured steaming tea from the golden Crusad-style teapot beside her.

On the plate next to her, federal scientist Igor Constantineer had prepared a golden oriental snack for her, but she had no appetite for it.

“Most of them have no bad habits, few smoke, never drink excessively, and are even quite rational in matters of the heart. They, including Commander Vasily whom I despise, are frighteningly rational,” Shaneva sighed.

"Reason is not an absolutely superior quality. Reason enables one to make the most accurate judgment possible. However, the information we obtain in the early stages may be incorrect, perhaps due to deliberate deception or a lack of information. In short, absolute rationality can lead one into the trap of past experience and arrogance regarding information, resulting in Vasily-like disasters," Mikhail criticized his former governor mercilessly.

“Perhaps.” Shaneva did not get the answer Mikhail needed. She stared blankly at the “Silent” dagger in front of her, and further away, at a tall iron cage in the relatively spacious office.

“As an administrator, even as a woman, I can sense that during wartime, when you try to enjoy some aristocratic treatment and put yourself in the role of a noblewoman, you either don’t have the time or the inclination,” Shaneva remarked.
"Ever since I seized the position of Chief Executive, I have always been able to smell the tar and the increasingly unbearable stench of blood. Sometimes, I dream that I am sitting in a beautifully decorated, dark room, staring at the condensation that gradually distorts on the glass window."

"And when I tried to reach out and wipe the fog away, wanting to look at the world outside the window, the fog became thicker and thicker, until the whole world was shrouded in an impenetrable mist. Then... I woke up."

"This is the destiny of the supreme leader of Crusad. It is also the curse set by the first monarch of the old empire." Mikhail "flipped through" his historical knowledge and explained to Shaneva:
"It is called the 'Decree of the Gray Mist.' It was a covenant made by the first monarch of the old empire before his death, using his own blood and magical power, through the sacred artifact, the Ice-Singing Pestle, and a complex 'Frozen Magic Ritual,' to the 'monarchs' who would rule this territory after him."

"An agreement?" Shaneva asked curiously, setting down her ceramic teacup and straightening up, gripping the armrest of the elm sofa. "Of course," Mikhail nodded, explaining with a slightly somber tone:

The general content of the "Decree of the Gray" is that any human who rules the Crusad region after him must serve this territory. They can seek profits, pursue their ambitions, and engage in militarism, but they cannot be ignorant, muddleheaded, or disregard their responsibilities as leaders.

"Otherwise, they will be trapped in a frozen fog in their dreams, unable to extricate themselves, until their souls are lost there. This also explains why many Crusaders who indulged in pleasure and were obsessed with trivial matters died young and had short reigns."

"So, is my dream a sign that the ancestors of the Crusaders are dissatisfied with me, or that the gods who live on this continent are dissatisfied with me?" Shaneva asked, slightly fearful.

“I don’t think so. If it’s just a simple gray mist without feeling cold or being trapped in ice and snow, then it’s possible to enter another space, the ‘Gray Dream.’ This is an alternate dimension created by the gods in the First Era. Through dreams, one can achieve ‘soul leap’ at any time, allowing those with high-ranking professions or gods to communicate freely across time,” Mikhail explained.

“I remember that there was a mechanical being created by the Lord of Machines in the Rhine Empire, a young man named Ronnie, who left behind a notebook that recorded in detail his experiences in the Gray Dream as a ‘Mechanical Spirit’. That notebook was called ‘The Dream of the Mechanical Spirit’ and was unintentionally purchased by a merchant from the Water Province.”

"The Gray Dream, the Dream of the Mechanical Spirit?" Shaneva was completely bewildered.
"So, what are the conditions for entering the Gray Dream?"

"The conditions for entry are either possessing the status of a high-ranking professional, that is, one of the 16 high-ranking professions represented by the sixteen ordinal cards, or possessing 'divinity'," Mikhail further explained:

"Being recognized by the Sequence Cards grants you a high-level profession. Commander Shaneva, you are already a high-level professional [Prayer]. Even if you don't use your professional abilities and skills often, as long as you haven't lost your consciousness or been stripped of your qualifications by the gods, you will always be a high-level professional."

"As long as you have any interaction with the Gray Dream, you will enter it by chance. Also, you can enter it through some special means. The Dream of the Mechanical Spirit mentions that some people may have been driven insane by the fluctuations of magical energy and the ancient power summoned during Cthulhu-style performances. However, even Ivan, the crown prince of the Germanic people who did not possess the highest level of professions, nor had strong magical energy and divinity, had entered it."

“Interesting, go on.” Shaneva said, chewing on a piece of golden fried bread made by Igor, as if enjoying a delicious snack while listening to some bizarre stories could add some fun and reduce some of the fear.

“Humans who mistakenly enter the Gray Dream have their memories erased upon exiting, while those who are able to officially enter usually retain clear memories. It sounds like an ‘online chat room,’ quite similar to the scientific concepts of Ivan XXII’s time.” Mikhail then picked up the ceramic teacup on the table, drank it down in one gulp, and explained:
"Ivan XXII proposed the concept of the Internet, attempting to use binary electronic computers to transmit more complex real-time information over long distances than the telegraph. Moreover, if this infrastructure, called the 'Internet,' were successfully built, it would be able to accommodate multiple people chatting and exchanging ideas on the same channel, hence the name 'internet chat room.'"

“It’s hard to understand. Ivan XXII really is a great and mysterious emperor. Forget about computers for transmitting large amounts of complex information, even the telegraph network took the hard work of several generations of administrators of the Crusad Federation to build.” A hint of confusion appeared in Shaneva’s eyes.

"The future Star Era will be an information age, a point that Commander Vasily agrees with, and of course, you agree as well. In fact, in the future, once we have completely ended the war and achieved total victory, all we need to do is replicate the various scientific artifacts left behind by the old empire in the 'Evolution Platform,' laboratories, underground factories, the Bitter Depths Ruins, and the Crimson Illusion Ruins, and make the conceptual objects from the documents step by step. Then we can follow the great emperor's line of thought and 'travel through an era.'" Mikhail stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, then his gaze turned serious as he said, his longing expression vanishing.
"However, let's return to the Crown Prince Ivante. He was able to enter the Gray Dream thanks to a piece of music full of 'divinity' called 'Elysia: Dream.' Professor Igor confirmed to us that this piece does exist; it is part of the 'Elysia' series, originating from a bizarre dream of the emperor of the Central Empire, and is an excellent product of the Central culture."

“I’ve always been curious about what the sheet music looks like, but I’ve never been able to get my hands on it. However, Professor Igor studied a piece from the ‘Erythia’ series thirty years ago, and he has memorized every note and the position of every key. If you would like, I can give you the sheet music to help you try to enter that strange and mysterious space.”

"Let's talk about it later." Shaneva temporarily refused Mikhail, brushing the food crumbs off her hands, and asked:

"By the way, Wright, how have you been these past few days?"

“He told me that the invasion of the ‘Blood Wolves’ had frightened him, so he needed to rest for the next couple of days. However, if there were any missions targeting the core fortress, he would be willing to go with the army.” Mikhail looked at Shaneva, observing her expression as he answered.

“That’s good. Our current mission is to win the ‘Fall of Atlas’ battle, eliminate the Lost Ones organization ‘Dedication Group,’ quell the rebellion of Nebrius, obtain the ‘Core of Chidania’ and then activate the ‘Evolution Platform,’ as well as the ‘Mind Control Platform’ hidden deep behind the ‘Source Image Pillar.’” Shaneva’s face revealed a fierce glint, and a wicked smile appeared on her lips as she whispered to Mikhail:

"As for Wright and Anna, I never intended to spare their lives, nor did I want to keep my promise to them. The Lost are the Lost, and monsters are monsters; they can never be accepted by the postwar Federation. And letting such extraordinary people go would always be detrimental to us."

“If you truly have no intention of keeping your promise and want to eliminate Wright and Anna, I suggest you do so after you have captured Nabsk,” Mikhail stated realistically.

"On the one hand, by then we had already mastered the power to manipulate minds, enough to quickly stabilize the situation. On the other hand, even if Wright realized our purpose, he would lose everyone who could help him. A lone, helpless beast, no matter how strong, is ultimately no match for a group of weak humans. Besides, we are not weak."

“Yes.” Shaneva nodded slightly, then slapped her forehead:
"By the way, how is that dragon named Seye doing now? I remember Professor Igor told me yesterday that he had successfully mechanized the dragon. He told me that as long as Anna is directing from the side, he can immediately join the war."