Silent Crown

Three weeks later, the steel workshop had expanded to twice its original size.

The scaffolding embedded in the cliff were like weeds clumped together. The giant nails wedged into the stone were holding heavy steel cables, arranged into a spider-web-like structure, in place. Heat insulating felt cloths were suspended layer by layer from the cables, forming a huge greenhouse.

Heavy rain poured from the sky, and fell on the felt cloth, causing it to evaporate and rise into the sky again in a thick fog of steam, only to condense and fell as water droplets again upon encountering the cold air above. Cold fog and hot air met in the sky, strangling each other. Finally, they blended together, forming layers of sickly white clouds.

It was as if hundreds of iron furnaces were working at the same time, or as if lava had broken through the crust of the earth and was flowing over the ground. An appalling amount of heat were constantly spreading out from the workshop. f𝚛e𝗲𝔀e𝚋𝑛o𝘃𝒆𝗹.c𝗼𝒎

The viscous and scorching air escaped from the valves on the door with a rotten stench. 𝗳𝒓𝙚e𝓌e𝚋𝙣𝚘𝐯𝙚𝙡.𝑐૦ｍ

It was like the breath of living things.

"Is it really alright to build a ship this way?" Igor stood on top of the cliff and looked down, his gaze fixed on the covered workshop. No matter how many times he had heard the explanation, he still felt incredulous, as the production method employed was truly beyond his imagination.

"The current stage of our industrial development is not advanced enough to produce such a massive thing the conventional way, so we could only do it in an alternative manner." Carol, who had been appointed as the chief engineer, held his umbrella as he looked down and observed his work. He said, "Now the entire port and anywhere less than five hundred meters from it are within the radiation range of the alchemy reactions.

"An alchemical reactor of such a gigantic size would cost as much as half the national treasury and would take more than ten years to manufacture. "Furthermore, it can only be used once, as it would be destroyed in the process, and it has to be recycled as waste after that. The whole process requires more than a hundred alchemists to collaborate, using up countless materials and funds. "We do not have so much capital and time to waste.

"It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be blessed with such favorable conditions, Captain Igor, we must keep everything simple. "

"This is considered simple?" Igor was shocked.

He squatted on the edge of the cliff, then lay down to look at the huge workshop more closely.

Under the cover of the heat-insulating felt cloths, the workshop was like a monster of a gray-black color lying on the harbor of refuge, crawling and rolling around in gluey motions, convulsing in the rain as if it was alive, but also abhorrently ugly.

So ugly that it looked terrifying.

Five days ago, the musicians of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith removed the entire harbor of refuge, then built a dam at the estuary, turning whole entire port into an enclosed, bowl-like structure.

The 'bowl' was covered, and only a warm murky stream of water spewed out steadily from the dam. The turbid water containing alchemical elixirs and toxic metals exuded a pungent stench, staining the black ocean water white.

The hull was being manufactured in it.

As the organization that had inherited the legacy of the Religious Court of Inquiry, developing various methods to utilize demons was almost instinctual to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Plus, many demons themselves were excellent raw materials. With such a precious resource like the Mountain of Nomadism, they couldn't possibly let it rot and spoil.

The development plan, which seemed budget-conscious to most, was considered imprudent by the old devils of the Court who had gotten used to being thrifty.

If the Congregation had a complete industrial system and enough supporting resources, they definitely wouldn't agree to such insanity of wasting the huge piece of precious material on a goddamn ship.

"In some sense, it cannot be considered a ship at all." Carol said, "We are just utilizing the resources at hand to as best we can, leveraging the molecular activeness of the Mountain of Nomadism's flesh to grow it into a ship.

"If we have enough resources and time, it's even possible to create a ship that can fly in the sky forever, occupying the sky like the winged people... Damn, those bastards not only monopolize the resources of the star belt, but also deny us access to the deep sky..."

"For me, having a boat in itself is more than enough, Mr. Carol," Igor interrupted.

He sniffed the pungent smell coming from the workshop, looking intoxicated. "I don't give a sh*t about whether it's alive or dead, or whether it's the child of catastrophes. I'm happy as long as it is a ship and I can sail it. Of course, it'll be even better if it can take down a legendary warship in one go."

He wanted to witness the process in the core of the workshop, but it was a pity as there was no way he could get close to it.

The interior of the workshop had been transformed into a petri dish that was super enormous in size. A dense forest consisting of large quantity of fungi toxic to humans grew in it. Lethal toxic gases and corrosive alchemical materials were everywhere.

Such was the most suitable environment to cultivate artificial flesh.

Beneath the cover of the gray-black felt cloth, the sea water had been transformed into a viscous culture medium of dark yellow. Innumerable muscles and organs of a tender red color floated within like seaweed, growing slowly...

Except for the musicians who were cultivating them and the engineers wearing three layers of protective clothing each, no ordinary creature could survive in that environment.

Even from a long distance, one could still smell the rich scent of blood spreading constantly.

Within the past few weeks, the smell of blood had attracted a large number of the vile spawn of the sea.

The endless demons that swarmed towards the port had all become the practice targets of the organists, their bodies contributing to the building of the ship as raw materials or cultivation media.

The organists, carefully selected by Maxwell, were undisputed elites, each of them fitting the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith's requirements for newcomers perfectly — although they had impure faiths and questionable pasts.

But during such a critical period, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith naturally wouldn't concern themselves with the rules of the past pedantically — In fact, only the young men whose minds were preoccupied with glory and the conquest of the east might have trouble accepting the fact that the rules could be bent. As for the older men, they all had no trouble with seeing which way the wind was blowing. Shi Dong had even told Ye Qingxuan all the secrets of the old Religious Court of Inquiry, and he couldn't care less about such rules.

They only cared about the fundamental purpose, and apart from that, the end would justify the means.

As long as the Religious Court of Inquiry could be re-established, the glory of the olden days restored and the long-cherished wish to conquer the east realized, they wouldn't think twice even if the price was that they must assassinate the Pope.

Among the organists brought along by Ye Qingxuan, the majority would be trained to become the new generation of the Witch Hammer in the next few months.

The rest were aged men whose paths had been fixed and were almost irreversible. For them, rather than to spend their lives doing a half-ass job as a member of the Witch Hammer or as a purifier, it would be better to continue along their own path. So, they chose to quit after taking part in certain courses.

The results of the short-term training course of the Congregation were remarkable.

In the short span of a few days, most of the organists who had had combat experience, or had been knights even, had mastered the main techniques and skills that would originally require one to two years to learn. Although they were still lacking in certain aspects, what they needed was just the accumulation of experience over the years.

In the past few days, the outcome of the fights against the vile spawn of the sea had made the old men who took time off their schedules to check on the progress laugh with glee. The new generation of the Witch Hammer was in embryo. Unfortunately, the progress of the musicians was still slow — although they were provided with a lot of purifying movements and esoteric music theory, those of them whose sound of heart movements had formed already had their own style of music. While they could still learn the techniques of the Religious Court of Inquiry, the learning process was much lower in terms of efficiency as compared to the purifiers who were cultivated from a young age.

Regarding this, the old devils were willing to let nature take its own course.

Musicians take a long time to cultivate, as music is not something that can be learned all at once — even express musicians, whom orthodox musicians look down upon, require three months of training.

Presently, in addition to guiding more than ten musicians, who had yet to enter the level of Resonance, to switch to learning purifying music theory, the old devil in charge of the training, who still bore a youthful appearance, had started hatching a plan involving Ye Qingxuan... The relationship between Ye Qingxuan and Maxwell was obviously no secret. When Maxwell dies, as the reserve sword-bearer, Ye Qingxuan will be the first heir to his inheritance. I wonder if Anglo's Royal Academy of Music would mind having a new department then?

If Maxwell knew that a member of Ye Qingxuan's relief troops was looking forward to his death before even arriving at Avalon, surely his expression would be very interesting?

Boom!

Another dull bang came from the depths of the stronghold.

Igor and Carol were stunned for a moment. They turned and looked at the stronghold.

The fortress was shrouded in moonlight of an indeterminable source, making it seem ethereal and illusory all the more, almost as if it was dissipating. From the depths of the stronghold came loud bangs and roars one after another, but it seemed a long distance away from them, and they could only heard the dull echoes.

"Something went wrong again?" Igor sighed and said, "What the hell is happening in the advanced training course?"

Carol couldn't help but gave a wry smile.

He replied, "To tell the truth, I'm curious as well."