Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste

Chapter 944 162: The Gears of Fate Turn (Part 2)

The biting cold wind howled through the ruins, yet it couldn't fully extinguish the resilient flame of life burning across this land.From the sky, the ancient Empire avenues meticulously laid by skilled artisans were still clearly discernible, crisscrossing like the veins of the earth.

These roads constructed from massive stones connected the scattered town ruins, with some sections even revealing the silhouettes of caravans braving the wind and snow.

Around several larger settlements, wisps of smoke stubbornly rose towards the leaden sky, adding a touch of vitality to this frozen world.

"According to the flight map, the famous 'Seven Hills City' ruins are thirty miles ahead," the fleet commander stood at the porthole, lightly tapping the frosted glass, speaking to the accompanying missionary group.

Behind him, several navigators were checking the discrepancies between ancient parchment maps and modern survey data.

"Although most of the main city is covered in ice and snow," the commander continued with undisguised admiration in his tone, "detection indicates that there are still signs of active life beneath this city.

It seems the survivors were smart to hide in the underground city left by their ancestors."

To execute Perfikot's bold plan, there's no better starting point than this area, which possesses both a vast population base and rich cultural heritage.

The head of the missionary group stood silently beside the commander, gently stroking the holy book he carried with him using his wrinkled fingers.

His deep gaze went beyond the porthole, as if foreseeing the future: on this ancient land, they were about to sow a seed that might change the fate of the world, and this seed would eventually take root and grow into a towering tree on this time-worn land.

"Prepare for landing and our first mission, Commander," the missionary leader said.

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The ruins of Seven Hills City appeared especially desolate under the leaden sky.

The biting wind whipped the fine snow grains, whimpering between the collapsed marble columns.

Sixteen-year-old Eric tightened the layer upon layer of clothing on him—this was "armor" he pieced together using rags, animal skins, and old curtains found in the ruins, his only means of warding off the cold.

He hunched his body, scurrying quickly through the ruins like a wary wildcat, occasionally stopping to listen to the surrounding sounds.

This once-glorious Eternal City now held only shattered splendor.

The first cold wave of the apocalyptic winter had destroyed two-thirds of the city's structures, followed by the Old Gods' rituals, which took the lives of half the surviving populace.

Eric still remembered the bloody full moon night when fervent believers pushed innocents into the blazing holy fire, claiming it was a necessary sacrifice to appease the gods.

But life always finds a way even in the harshest conditions.

Now, thousands of survivors lived like moles in the city's underground—the sewage network meticulously built by ancient Engineers.

This was part of their ancestors' water engineering, which, though thousands of years old, remained largely intact.

Before the apocalyptic winter, the local government had carried out certain repairs to maintain the city's water supply.

Throughout the past millennium, this system had continued to provide drinking water for the entire city, making one admire the wisdom of ancient craftsmen and the reliability of these projects.

Now, this system had become the last refuge for survivors to evade the wind and snow.

Though inside it was cold, it was certainly better than facing the cold wind above ground.

Eric crouched beneath a half-collapsed arch, carefully gathering food from the crumbled ruins.

This was the main food source for the survivors.

Suddenly, a shadow enveloped him.

At first, he thought it was about to snow, but the shadow was expanding at an astonishing speed—instantly covering the entire ruin.

He raised his head in confusion, then froze on the spot.

A massive floating warship was gliding through the clouds, its steel hull reflecting a cold metallic sheen in the weak winter sunlight.

Several smaller floating crafts surrounded it, collectively forming an overwhelming fleet.

But what was most suffocating was the colossal object suspended at the fleet's center—a floating city module the size of half a city, with its base sparkling with countless lights and alchemy symbols, flickering like stars.

"Father above…," Eric unconsciously fell to his knees, dropping the hard-earned food all over the ground.

His throat tightened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

He didn't recognize these objects, but instinctively knew they would bring dramatic change to Seven Hills City!

The shadow cast by the floating city module deepened, allowing Eric to clearly see its base's complex mechanical structure: rotating gear clusters, telescopic hydraulic rods, and steam-spewing pipes…

A low, rhythmic humming began to shake the ground, knocking snow from the ruins above.

Eric's legs trembled uncontrollably, instinctively driven to turn and flee.

The shadow cast by the colossal object in the sky seemed substantial, pressing down on his shoulders, the cold metallic sheen intermittently visible between the clouds, emitting a suffocating sense of oppression.

His heart raced in his chest, the roar of blood flowing in his ears—an intrinsic fear response when humans face unknown threats.

But just as he was about to take a step, a stronger curiosity seized him like a vice.

What are these steel giants floating in the sky? Where do they come from? Are they new messengers sent by the gods? Or… some existence that transcends them?

Perhaps these flying objects signify some hope? In a world ravaged by winter and the Old Gods, perhaps there's finally a chance for change?

In the brief moments of inner turmoil, a whirring sound of mechanical operation came from overhead. A floating craft about the size of a house detached from the main ship's hull, descending like a feather to land on the ruins, just a dozen steps away from where Eric was hiding.

The hot waves emitted by the floating craft melted the surrounding snow, and in the swirling white mist, the cabin door silently slid open.

Eric held his breath, instinctively shrinking into the shadow.

But it was too late; three figures in long robes were already walking towards him under the guard of a group of gigantic armored Knights.

Eric had never seen such towering Knights; they looked like Titans from myth and legend.

This made Eric extremely nervous; he even thought they were henchmen dispatched by the gods.

It wasn't until one of them spoke that Eric understood the others came from Victory, the island nation far from the old world's continent, suspended overseas.

"Hello, young one! We are Victorians, ordered by the Empire's Regent, implementing rescue and assistance across nations," the leading priest offered Eric a friendly smile and extended some kind of food from beneath his robe: "Are there other survivors in Seven Hills City? Can you lead us to them?"

Eric felt his throat tighten, mechanically swallowed, his dry lips trembling slightly.

The entrance to the underground passage was not far away, but at this moment seemed so out of reach.

Overhead, the shadow of the floating city module still covered the entire ruin, those slowly rotating mechanical structures emitted a deep hum, like the breath of some ancient beast.

The gears of destiny started to turn at this moment. Eric cast one last glance at the entrance to the underground community, then looked up at those strangers from the sky.

Would they bring destruction or salvation? No one knew the answer.

But after a long hesitation, Eric slowly nodded, reached out to take the food offered by the priest, and took the first step toward changing the fate of Seven Hills City.