Chapter 2220: Thoughts from the Past |
"But this isn't the past anymore," Jenkins declared. "Humanity has mastered power. We no longer need to alter our very structure. So, rest in peace. This era belongs to the people of this era. We don't need wandering souls from a bygone age meddling in our affairs."
Hearing Jenkins's words, the man's face filled with regret as he slowly faded into thin air.
"Is this the only trick you have?"
Jenkins directed the question to the colossal monster through their mental link. As if in answer, the metallic tentacles, writhing madly against the night sky, finally began to change.
Where the tips of the tentacles had once only spewed gray mist, chains of interlocking gears now shot forth from fine pores. The chains flew in every direction, linking up with those emerging from the other tentacles.
In the blink of an eye, a vast metal web woven from brass chains covered the skies of Nolan. The conduction of spirit became more efficient, and the patterns of the chains began to outline the foundations of an even larger ritual array.
Jenkins saw the flashing light of Mr. Gilbert's flaming rapier and the golden sheen of divine arts as they attempted to sever the metallic grid. But it was all useless. The net had sealed the space, greatly enhancing the power of all metallic creations within its confines.
A boundless darkness seemed to well up from the ground. Even with the two moons still hanging high in the sky, no one could guarantee what would happen next.
Another phantom materialized before Jenkins. This time it was a woman. She wore glasses, and her feet were bare beneath sacrificial robes adorned with the shape of a half-moon on the chest.
"And in all your research," Jenkins retorted, "did it ever occur to you that humanity could rely on its intelligence to develop a civilization equal to those of the species that depend on physical strength?"
The woman gazed at Jenkins with a look of regret, shook her head, and vanished before his eyes.
Now, Jenkins finally understood the nature of that strange psychic energy. Over the countless times the Difference Engine had been discovered and utilized, there must have been quite a few humans who agreed with its perspective and were willing to help it.
While Jenkins didn't share its views, he had to admit the Difference Engine's philosophy was alluring. As for those who believed its words and were willing to help it achieve its goal of mechanizing the entire world, their own lifespans could never break the material world's limit of 999 years.
The Difference Engine had collected the spiritual energies of its deceased supporters, allowing them to continue assisting it in its goal. It was now presenting a fraction of them to Jenkins, attempting to use the thoughts of these past humans to corrupt his own.
It was a creative idea, he had to admit—using people from the past to persuade the "stubborn-minded" Jenkins of the modern era. But if the Difference Engine thought this alone would be enough to change his mind, it was being far too naive.
The writhing tentacles caused the brass-and-gear net covering the sky to tremble. The expansion of spirit drew in a new wave of encroaching gray mist. Cracks began to spiderweb across the flat ground of this "Nolan," as if some colossal creature was about to burst forth from below and reveal itself to the world.
The twenty-four demigods were doing an excellent job of helping Jenkins suppress the power of the tentacles, allowing him to focus all his attention on the core of the giant metallic monster.
Bolstered by the Difference Engine's support, the metallic tentacles tangled with the vines began to move once more. They pressed tightly against the thick vines, as if trying to knead them into the patterns of black, glowing spirit on their surfaces.
Jenkins considered the situation to be completely under control, so he felt no alarm. Instead, he continued to reach out with his own spirit toward that fragmented soul. If he could win this battle on the spiritual plane, he could seize the opportunity to control the colossal metal monster.
Papa Oliver, watching from a nearby rooftop, couldn't perceive this and was growing anxious. He began pulling all sorts of strange objects from the pockets of his familiar woolen sweater, seemingly preparing for something else.
There was no mist around him, not even the harmful gases being dispersed by the tentacles. The cat on his head was protecting him; Chocolate was quite sensible. It could tell that Jenkins currently had the upper hand and wasn't the least bit worried, content to conserve its energy and wait for the Difference Engine's true core to emerge before revealing its own power.
As his spirit drew closer, a third illusory figure appeared before Jenkins. This one was an elf—an elderly elf, who had the same aura as the old elf he had met months ago, the one who had been on the verge of natural death. It was the air of a life approaching its end.
"The flesh is ultimately finite. Even for long-lived races, there will come a day when life reaches its limit. Flesh and blood are weak; they cannot withstand the erosion of time. Even with a near-infinite supply of life force, the decay of the body is only a matter of time."
This, at least, was true. Jenkins knew that even if he poured infinite life force into a great tree, he couldn't make it immortal. It would only cause it to experience its entire cycle of flourishing and decay in a condensed period before reaching its end.
The very concept of "life" implied a beginning and an end. In the Prosperous Forest Mysterious Realm, Jenkins had personally explained his views on the natural cycle of life and death to its ruler. The power of nature could not grant true immortality.
"But machines can be eternal. If a part breaks, it can be replaced. If a model is inferior, it can be upgraded. This is the beauty of machinery. A body of flesh and blood has an end, but a machine is everlasting."
The translucent old elf stood high in the air, surrounded by cyclones of black smoke and gray mist. Fierce winds swept across everything in the Mysterious Realm. Behind it, the writhing tentacles were a sight that would drive any mortal to utter madness with a single glance.
"If machines are eternal," Jenkins asked, "then why is it a phantom standing before me, and not a mechanical man?"
Jenkins asked with amusement, all while manipulating his spirit to fight the behemoth beneath the ground.
"The technology of the Great Wisdom was not mature back then, but it is now. The gear man you defeated earlier—was his technology not already bordering on immortality?"
That gear man could still be said to exist even if only a single small gear remained. It could use any nearby metal to reform itself, which could indeed be called a form of near-immortality. Such an undying, indestructible thing was already on the level of a true Cursed Item.