Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste

Chapter 946 163_2

This approximately fifteen-meter-tall steel construct exudes a silvery-gray metallic sheen, with halos flowing over the metal plates embedded with a constant temperature boundary.When the steam boiler first spewed out white smoke columns, the slowly rising steam was strikingly conspicuous in the dead city, attracting the gaze of survivors from all around like a lighthouse in darkness.

On the open ground in front of the Energy Tower, the missionaries erected a three-meter-tall statue of the New God—a mighty War God adorned in Golden Armor, holding the Empire flag.

The base of the statue bore a massive emblem five meters in diameter, made from reflective metal materials, gleaming even on cloudy days.

Such a flamboyant religious symbol in Seven Hills City, a place where many survivors were sacrificed by the followers of the Old Gods, was undoubtedly a blatant provocation.

Indeed, on the evening of the statue's completion, several masked survivors hid behind broken walls, throwing stones and rotten food toward the construction site.

A piece of rubble grazed the engineer's cheek while they were wiring, yet the missionaries calmly continued their work.

The Steam Knight responsible for guarding didn't even activate the steam armor, merely scanning the throwers' hiding places with mechanical eyes coldly.

"Ignore these probes," the leader of the missionaries said to his subordinates, "Hunger and cold will teach them to make the right choice."

Instead, a megaphone was installed on the top of the Energy Tower.

This alchemically enhanced sounding device broadcasts in standard Imperial language every half hour: "Attention all survivors, we offer food, medicine, and warm shelter. Participate in the camp's construction to receive basic living guarantees."

The missionaries understood human heart deeply.

They didn't immediately require the survivors to convert, but cleverly opened the situation by exchanging labor for survival supplies.

Every morning, several large barrels were placed around the Energy Tower, filled with hot porridge made from compressed biscuits. Not excellent food, but the enticing aroma was genuine.

The fragrance of this food wafted through the cold air, more persuasive than any missionary words.

Meanwhile, the Floating Fleet has dispersed into action.

Three floating boats headed to the northern port city, two flew to the southeastern agricultural plains, while the rest continued to establish outposts around Seven Hills City.

Each floating boat carried a missionary group, prepared to spread the gospel of the New God like ripples throughout the old world.

With material support from the Floating City module, the missionaries had no concerns about supply problems.

Their warehouses were piled high with compressed biscuits, canned food, warm clothing, and medical supplies brought from the Northern Territory.

These precious supplies were like bait, waiting for the desperate survivors to walk into the trap.

Once survivors began to rely on the warmth of the Energy Tower, accepting the New God's faith would just be a matter of time.

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In Perfikot's study, a desk lamp emitted a gentle glow.

She sat at a broad oak desk, her fingertips gently flipping through the latest reports just returned from the old world.

As she read further, a glimmer of commendation flashed in her heterochromatic eyes.

"To have established a foothold in Seven Hills City, the heartland of the Old Gods, these missionaries have done better than expected." She placed the report aside, took a steaming cup of tea, sipping slowly while reflecting positively.

Although there were presently fewer than a hundred officially converted followers of the New God, establishing a stable stronghold amid obvious local resident resistance was already commendable.

Her brow furrowed tightly upon reading about the mass sacrifices by the Ancient Gods.

Placing the teacup back forcefully on the tray made a crisp collision sound.

"To maintain divine power, they sacrificed an entire city's inhabitants?" Her voice was as cold as polar winds: "These so-called deities are greedier and more cruel than I imagined."

But quickly, she suppressed her anger, turning to consider more practical matters.

Her slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the table.

"The missionaries have opened the way, next…" she mused to herself, "As long as we restore local resource production and productivity, the city can gradually revive, ensuring that the spread of faith and influence across surrounding areas won't be a problem."

Suddenly, her fingers stopped.

A dangerous thought emerged in her mind: "Seven Hills City, as the old world's core, where the Ancient Gods held massive sacrifices…this implies that extreme Evil God Sects might emerge there."

She stood, walked to the map on the wall, gazing intently at the area marked with Seven Hills City.

"The three Godslaying Armors sent..." Her fingers traced the military deployments marked on the map, "if a divine war encountered, they're nowhere near enough."

This realization sent a slight chill down her spine.

The decision to dispatch the Floating City module proved absolutely correct—it was not just a mobile supply station, but a formidable strategic deterrent.

The alchemy weapons mounted on the module were sufficient to combat typical Divine Attendants and Subordinate Gods.

Perfikot returned to the desk, swiftly writing a new directive.

She decided to dispatch two more Steam Knight squads, additionally equipping two more Godslaying Armors.

"Prepare for the worst case scenario," she murmured while writing: "those Old Gods will never sit idly by as their faith is taken."

Finishing the final word, she rolled up the directive, sealing it with red wax.

The wax seal bore the New God's emblem—a design interwoven with gears and flames, glittering in the lamplight.

This missionary activity involved more than faith's spread—it was a direct confrontation with the Ancient Gods.

Perfikot dipped the quill in ink, frowning slightly, deliberating how to present her plan to the cabinet.

This wasn't merely a simple request, but a strategic outline that might change the entire world's fate.

"To the Cabinet Ministers," her pen glided smoothly over the paper, "regarding the New God project's advancement in the old world, the following support is requested..."

She paused, the pen suspended over the paper, ink dripping to form a dark spot.

She wasn't asking for material supplies—the Floating City's warehouse had already prepared ample provisions for the missionaries; nor for military force—Godslaying Armors could address most threats.

More precious was what she needed: talent and technology.

"First, deploy three hundred skilled artisans, including construction engineers, alchemists, and agricultural experts." She continued to write, her script clear and forceful: "Second, about two thousand volunteer immigrants are needed, preferably young and robust families, who will be transported in batches via the Floating Fleet to major cities in the old world."

Upon reaching this point, Perfikot looked up, gazing at the world map hanging on the wall.

These cities circled in red once thrived; now, they were merely ruins.

Solely relying on local survivors and missionaries might sustain a small settlement, but to rebuild an entire city? That was as naive as a pipe dream.

"We must acknowledge," her pen pressed more firmly: "The reconstruction of the old world concerns not just the spread of faith but is crucial for the preservation of human civilization! Although the Northern Territory is temporarily safe, if the old world falls completely, we lose the last cultural foundation."

She listed in detail the cities that need prioritizing for rebuilding: Seven Hills City, France's White Pearl Harbor...

These places are not only strategically positioned but also hold the most precious knowledge heritage of mankind.

Her tone then became more earnest: "Especially alert the cabinet, many countries historically aligned with the Empire remain in the old world. Before the doomsday, they used valuable alchemical texts and Divine Artifacts to exchange for our shelter technology.

Now, most of these nations are in dire straits; it's the perfect time for us to offer help."

"Recommend immediately restarting the 'Flame of Civilization' plan," she continued, "selecting excellent missionaries and technical personnel, forming mixed missions to these friendly countries. They'll bring not only the gospel of the New God but also the hope of rebuilding homes."

At the end, her handwriting grew exceptionally solemn: "This isn't merely a missionary task but salvation for human civilization."

She thoroughly checked the letter, ensuring every request was clearly stated and each reason was sufficiently compelling.

Although, with her status, she could force the cabinet to execute her orders, this time, Perfikot chose persuasion.