Sergeant Victor fell into silence; he could feel that David was telling the truth.
After a long while, Victor spoke slowly, asking the final and most central question:
"So, what is your ultimate goal in wanting these materials and seeking these talents?"
"Goal?" David turned his gaze toward the Eye of Terror that hung eternally over Cadia.
Sergeant Victor followed his gaze.
That thing was an eternal nightmare in the hearts of all Cadians and all Imperial soldiers.
David withdrew his gaze and looked at Victor.
"That thing," he pointed at the sky, "is quite an eyesore, isn't it?"
David candidly extended his hand toward Sergeant Victor.
"So, shall we cooperate?"
"If everything you said is true." Sergeant Victor's voice remained steady, though it had lost some of its initial aggressiveness.
"Why not?"
The two hands gripped each other.
Phew. Bella breathed a sigh of relief; she had almost thought the deal she had worked so hard to strike was going to fall through.
Carmine clutched her head, muttering, "This old man... he has to make every discussion feel like an Inquisition trial."
Sergeant Victor coughed and gestured for David to follow. Together, they approached the simple tactical table.
On the tactical table was an aerial map of the entire Tylock Plains.
"We are here right now." Sergeant Victor pulled a fountain pen from his breast pocket.
The pen tip landed on the bottom-left corner of the map, drawing a red circle.
The pen looked quite old but was extremely well-maintained, with a gold-plated nib.
On the tail of the pen, a line of small cursive script was engraved: To my dear Victor, my eternal comrade and brother.
"And Tyrok Bastion is here." Victor's wrist moved, and the pen tip pointed to the very center of the map.
"It's a straight-line distance of about twenty kilometers, and the area between us is crawling with rebels."
He looked up, his gaze fixing on David: "Hans mentioned to me that you seem to have a way to quickly excavate underground tunnels?"
There was a hint of suppressed anticipation in his tone.
"20 kilometers..." David didn't answer immediately, quickly doing the mental math.
A standard block (1 cubic meter).
Digging stone with an iron pickaxe takes about 0.5 seconds. Twenty kilometers = 20,000 meters, which is equivalent to 20,000 blocks.
Excavation time = 20,000 * 0.5 seconds = 10,000 seconds ≈ 2.78 hours.
If the width of the tunnel had to be considered to allow more people through, the time might increase several times over.
But even so, at five or six times the time, it would only be a dozen or so hours!
David himself was slightly startled by the result of this calculation.
Is this the terrifying power of a block-man?
And it could be even faster; David thought of the blueprint module he had unlocked a few days ago.
"Do you have any paper?"
"Paper? I have some." Carmine chimed in, taking out her notebook.
She tore out one sheet, then decided it wasn't enough and tore out three more before handing them to David.
David took the paper and used bonemeal to accelerate growth on the ground until a Cornflower sprouted.
He broke the Cornflower down into blue dye and then crafted it together with the paper to create a blueprint.
In the blueprint interface, several preset architectural template icons were displayed.
These were the structures Hans had taught him a few days ago.
[Cadian-style Underground Bunker], [Cadian-style Surface Bunker], [Standard Trench]
David selected the third one, [Trench], and a trench model made of translucent phantoms appeared in his vision.
With the control of his mind, he could move, rotate, scale, and stretch it at will.
The blueprint interface simultaneously displayed the detailed material list required to construct this 20-kilometer Standard Trench:
Cobblestone x 1024, Wood x 256, Iron Pickaxe x 10, Iron Shovel x 10
After fully understanding it, David nodded to Sergeant Victor. "If we're digging, it should only take about a day to reach it."
"A day?!" Victor's voice rose slightly.
"Are you sure? Twenty kilometers in one day?" Victor asked again.
"I'm sure." David's answer was short and powerful.
The stone-carved seriousness on Victor's face finally dissolved completely, his joy beyond words.
At this moment, David suddenly thought of something:
"Sergeant Victor, even if we successfully infiltrate, the number of traitors inside Pylon is likely quite high."
"We don't want to fail the reinforcement and end up getting wiped out ourselves."
Victor's brow furrowed. David was right; in this camp, counting everyone, there were only five people capable of fighting.
Victor looked at David: "What do you have in mind?"
"I have an idea..."
The sky over Cadia was gloomier than usual.
War had burned many things to ash, and these ashes were swept into Cadia's atmosphere, plunging the entire plains into darkness.
In this darkness, if someone looked up, they would see a speck of light.
It was David; he was currently placing cobblestones, building a pillar step by step toward the sky.
The cobblestones were covered in torches, sparkling like a star.
This height should be enough. David took out the radio antenna he was carrying, hoping it would work.
David thought to himself as he switched on the antenna.
"Victor, things are set up here. You can begin."
"Fellow Cadians, this is Sergeant Victor."
David listened to the voice coming from the radio and looked out over this devastated land.
The radio was broadcasting the signal to every corner of the plains.
In a shell crater, a soldier with a face covered in blood and filth curled up, his eyes vacant, staring at the sand trickling down from the edge of the pit.
He knew this place was to become his grave.
The mud-stained communicator in his arms hissed with static.
"We are facing an unprecedented crisis, one that was premeditated."
"Abaddon the Despoiler has long planned this conspiracy. He sent a group of traitors into Pylon, which led to the current situation."
Inside a scrapped armored vehicle, a driver was pinned to his seat by deformed metal, one of his legs having lost all sensation.
He struggled to reach out and turn the radio dial to the corresponding channel.
"Many people died in the sudden attack just now. We don't even know if we can survive until tomorrow."
In a cellar, three soldiers surrounded a medic with a faint breath; in the darkness, there was only suppressed sobbing.
"The situation is as bad as it can get, isn't it?"
"So, I implore everyone to look up."
Look up?
The soldier in the crater struggled to a half-kneeling position; the driver in the wreckage of the armored vehicle forced his head around, bumping against the crack in the window; the warriors in the dugout pulled away the camouflage atop their cover...
That was... light.
On the horizon, a stone pillar stood tall between heaven and earth, its summit burning with fire.
"In Tyrok Bastion, where those traitors are laying siege, there is still a team fighting tenaciously."
"We must help them. We need to gather all our remaining forces."
"I implore everyone to assemble toward the light!"
The broadcast stopped abruptly. The plains fell into a brief silence, save for the sound of the wind and distant explosions.
Sergeant Victor's finger was still pressed tightly against the microphone, but there was no response to the broadcast.
Has the situation already reached such a critical point? Sergeant Victor trembled slightly.
But in the next moment, voices burst from the radio.
"111th Armored Regiment copies. Only one engine is still turning, but that's enough. We'll reach the lighthouse as soon as possible!"
"23rd Regiment, seven men still able to fight. We are breaking through. On a side note, that pillar is really cool."
"This is a Guerrilla Squad. We are picking up stragglers along the way. Everyone, move toward the light."
Then, a fourth, a fifth... scattered but incredibly firm voices began to ring out over the radio.
High in the air, David saw the dust swirling into the Eye of Terror, being swallowed by it.
Is there any point? The Eye of Terror seemed to mock the land below and the insignificant insects upon it for what they were doing.
The raid progress bar in David's vision had only reached 1/10; this was destined to be a long war.