Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1469 Can human anger reach God?

Heaven and earth fell silent, holding their breath to welcome the new deity.

The storm seemed to freeze in that instant, even the howling sandstorms suspended in mid-air. Pereira's finger pointing to the sky was not accompanied by a spell or incantation, but rather like an undeniable command pierced through the thick clouds. The leaden sky began to swirl inward, cave in, and roar, as if an invisible hand was stirring this boiling vortex.

The towering, undulating clouds, as immovable as mountains, were now being shattered by a more direct and brutal force: the atmospheric pressure high above was being compressed by an invisible hand, gradually contracting until it exploded. A deep rumble came from the deepest part of the cloud vortex, initially like distant thunder, then growing stronger and stronger, transforming into a continuous, metallic clanging sound, like the reciprocating motion of giant pistons. The center of the cloud vortex collapsed downwards, forming an inverted cone-shaped cavity, and deep within that cavity, a colossal shadow, so imposing that mortals had to look up in awe, was slowly descending, breaking through the barriers of atmosphere and pressure.

As if the stage curtain had been raised, the prop master, who had been meticulously preparing behind the scenes, was determined to make this debut truly stunning. And so, just at the opportune moment, a few beams of sunlight struggled through the gaps in the torn clouds, bringing precious brilliance. But it was pale, like the refraction of raindrops or snowflakes, diluted by layers of clouds and haze, so thin as to be barely visible. Only by holding one's breath, with the devotion of a believer looking up at their god, could one perhaps glimpse its face.

Pale light slanted down from different angles of the cloud vortex, finally landing precisely on the key stress points of the towering figure, such as its shoulders, elbows, waist, and knees. This made it look like a deity descending from a stage in a classical drama. The light flowed across the austere, cold steel body, outlining sharp, clear edges. As the body descended, the light taut slightly, even creating the illusion that it was bending slightly due to the weight it bore.

Cheryl stared blankly at the scene, her lips moving unconsciously, uttering a few indistinct words: "Mechanical...séance?"

This concept also exists on the Eastern Empire Continent, and is even widely circulated. After all, in terms of classical civilization, the Eastern Continent is the one that has inherited it most completely. However, the leader of the Holy War Army had never heard of the steam-powered Holy War that plunged the Sigria Continent into a long catastrophe. Otherwise, she might have had a clearer understanding of the enemy she was about to face. Fortunately, or perhaps regrettably, the travelers who had witnessed the true "deus ex machina" in that duel were currently elsewhere and could not tell her about the incredible legends of Alexander the Steam God.

The only way to experience it is through personal experience.

First piercing the clouds was its sharp, spear-like tip—its head, also the cockpit of the mech, but resembling more of a knight's helmet visor, sharply defined. The only notable absence of the signature markings of a steel mech was the lack of eyes, indicating its current dormant state, awaiting a will capable of controlling it to awaken it. Next came the shoulder armor, unlike the external armor and fortress-like structure of traditional mechs or other constructs. Its design was more primitive and wild, with blade-like edges, its lead-gray surface covered with fine wear marks and dark blue cooling grooves. The clouds swirled restlessly around it, only to be torn into chaotic vortices by the rapidly descending fuselage, unable to cling to it, as if even natural storms were powerless before this steel body.

When its body is fully revealed, its essential difference from Alexander the Great becomes clear: there are no layers of steam towers, no sacred platinum wings, and no magnificent armor covering its entire body. Instead, it possesses an extremely streamlined, efficient, and aggressive structure. The torso is long and compact, with steel-blue main armor plates covering the chest, abdomen, and back. The lines are straight and sharp, tapering at the waist and extending downwards to powerful leg structures. The proportions of the limbs and torso are near perfect, combining strength and agility. Anyone who sees this magnificent machine will have the same thought the moment they see it: this is a pure and born warrior.

Perhaps because it hadn't yet received its controller's summons, its posture deliberately presented a sense of suspended stillness: limbs hanging naturally, head slightly tilted back, its entire body, suspended and pulled by the light, descended smoothly and almost uniformly across the oppressive distance between the clouds and the earth, finally hovering slowly behind Pereike. There was no billowing steam, no violent roar, only the ten mechanical fingers on the two giant hands hanging silently at its sides, slightly curled up like real humans, unconsciously clenching, as if ready to grasp or tear something at any moment.

The wind and all living things seemed to hold their breath; the entire Feather Mine was utterly silent. The swirling sand and gravel across the wasteland seemed to have been paused, suspended in mid-air, reflecting the few beams of pale white light that seemed to suspend the steel deities. The incongruity between natural phenomena and man-made objects intertwined, transforming into a profound fear: you know it's light, a trick of the eyes, but faced with such an invincible enemy, who can remain calm, allowing reason to fight and defeat it, and overcome the urge to scream and vent their emotions?

Pereike lowered her arms, her robes billowing violently in the downdraft created by the hovering mech. She gazed up at the steel creation she had summoned, and amidst the awe-inspiring contrast between its minuscule size and immense scale, her eyes held no excitement or fanaticism, only a faint detachment. Emotionally, she knew it was a dangerous machine, a monster born for slaughter, with unacceptable side effects, destined to be sealed away in the hangar, never to be used again; yet rationally, another voice told her, "You are the most suitable person to pilot this machine."

Because you have no desire to fight, but it does.

Therefore, it will fight in your place.

“Let it be your opponent, Cheryl.” The girl’s voice cut through the wind, clear and cold, “Prototype Machine God—Taikong.”

The instant the words left its mouth, the deep red light in Taikong's eyes, signaling danger, suddenly intensified. Simultaneously, the armor plates on its shoulders and back slid open to reveal rows of cold, hollow ventilation holes beneath. Scorching steam erupted like ocean currents, and its foot thrusters spewed forth fierce platinum flames, the intense heat almost vaporizing the surrounding sand. Its slender body leaned slightly forward, its arms outstretched at its sides, its knuckles making a soft "click," as if a warrior were giving his wrists a final warm-up before battle.

Cheryl felt her heart pounding like a drum in the absolute silence. Her throat was dry, her fingers gripping the sword stiffened slightly, and the warm, steady pulse of Hydras still resonated in her palm, in sync with the steady breathing of the earth beneath her feet. But this did not calm her; instead, it accentuated the imposing power and invincible strength of this divine mech. It was not naturally formed, not inherited from mythology, and unlike any construct or ancient relic she knew, but a miracle created by modern magical science, powerful enough to shatter the balance of war…

"Constructed mech?"

Her voice was hoarse, like sand carried by the wind: "So, it was Mikkelsen Corridor that was breached? This is the first time I've heard of that name..."

Prior to this, the only known constructs were the Earth Witch Scarlet Nightgate and the Turbine Mothership Nidhogg. The former was infamous for its efficient slaughter of false gods and otherworldly beings; the latter needed no introduction. Since ancient times, the struggle for dominance over the seas had always been more brutal than that on land, but since its appearance in the outer seas of the Eastern Continent, this endless conflict came to an end, because all deep-sea races now shared the same nemesis. As for this prototype machine, the God of the Sky, frankly, not only was its name unfamiliar, but its size was also far smaller than the former two. Its nearly thirty-meter-tall form was naturally insurmountable in the eyes of mortals, but compared to the imposing size of the Earth Witch or the Turbine Mothership, it seemed dwarfed. Perhaps even the demonic dragon that invaded the land of Atoliga ten thousand years ago was more imposing than it?
But compared to that, Cheryl would rather face enemies that only exist in legends than face the guy in front of her. The reason is simple: this mech is too similar to a human.

The near-perfect replica of the body structure, the perfectly coordinated movements, and those eyes flashing with danger—the greed and savagery within them were no different from the most cruel humans Cheryl had ever seen.

The feelings one has towards enemies are not the same as those towards one's own kind. Is it empathy at play? Cheryl hopes so, but a colder answer is: people are always wary and fearful of their own kind.

What's even more intriguing is his title: Prototype God.

What kind of being could possibly be the prototype for this creature? And what kind of power would allow it to dare to call itself a god? Aren't those madwomen from the Witch Society supposed to despise the title of "god"...?

Seemingly understanding the shock in the other person's eyes and the solemnity of trying to remain calm, Pereike suddenly spoke, her tone low and gloomy: "Gods who rely on their power and feed on humans are not frightening. What is truly worthy of reverence is always the god in people's hearts."

In other words... "Imagining deities?"

Cheryl was surprised by the answer, yet also somewhat unsurprising. The concept of conceived deities originated in the Western Continent, but it hadn't caused much of a stir in the Eastern Continent. The reason was simple: every religion in the Eastern Continent, including animism and its branches, already worshipped its own real deities. Naturally, they didn't need to emulate their Eastern counterparts, whose foundations had been eroded and whose backbones broken, by placing their hopes on fictional gods. Even if someone wanted to do so, they would be stopped by the combined forces of most of the gods—the refinement of conceived deities possessed an extremely strong exclusivity; once one became a follower of a conceived deity, it was destined that they could not accept the beliefs of other sects.

The number of believers in the Eastern Continent is limited, and they can even be considered a valuable resource. Often, wars between religions are merely a matter of believers changing sides. The exclusivity of the concept of a deity is destined to be impossible to integrate into such a unique religious environment, just like the past Goddess of Creation religion, except that the latter's reasons are more complex.

“The power of the human heart is enough to create gods, isn’t it amazing? Just like it can grant you power comparable to the gods.” Perec glanced at Cheryl, her gaze distant yet tinged with pity. The latter wanted to refute, how could she confuse the power of the fairy sword Hydras with so-called refined magic? But Perec didn’t give her the chance, instead gracefully taking a half-step back. Behind her, beneath the sharply angled head of the Skyship, resembling a knight’s visor, a gap silently slid open in the lead-gray armor. There were no steps, not even an internal steel structure, only a deep darkness that seemed to absorb all light. A dark blue glow flowed along the edge of the gap, like a cooled star ring.

As the Pereike retreated, it blended perfectly into the darkness and entered the cockpit of the prototype machine, the God of the Sky.

The interior space is completely different from the sensory impression given by the towering steel behemoth on the outside.

Among the seven mechs developed by the society, the prototype God Taikong is definitely the most special one, not only because of the unimaginable God of Time and Space who served as the prototype, but also because of its astonishing energy supply and incredibly simple operating requirements: it does not need complicated instruments, dense pipelines, or control consoles and auxiliary devices for hundreds of operators. It only requires a thought link to issue commands to it with a single thought.

This innate war machine doesn't even require its pilot to possess advanced tactical thinking or meticulous control skills, because all the instincts for combat are already engraved in the armaments that make up this steel machine. Even a mortal with no strength can fight against the highest gods as long as he pilots it—provided that his inexhaustible energy needs can be met.

This is the perfect mecha for the Plague Witch who hates fighting, avoids fighting, and has never wanted to learn how to fight.

"Now, you will experience this for yourself, Miss Cheryl."

Through the transparent vision, calmly observing the enemy unit marked by the machine's consciousness, Pereike said softly, "If you are afraid, you can leave now and let the real opponent come out to fight me. I can assure you that everyone in the Feather Mine and Blackfire Fortress will be safe and sound until the battle between her and me is over. But if you believe you have the power to protect your homeland and loved ones, and even defeat me, this unreasonable invader, then you may wish to give it a try."

"You who are recognized by the fairy sword, try to prove yourself to me, tell me—"

Can human anger reach God?

Give me some cats