Chapter 10: This Isn’t A Kidnapping

Following the custom of young people in Meteorite Town, at this moment one should draw a cross on their chest, praise God, having finally found the radiant light of redemption in life. Then, they would casually pluck a rose from the mayor’s flower garden and say while whistling, “Beauty, shall we acquaint ourselves?”

However, given the circumstances now—with swirling snowstorms howling across the sky—

Wen Luan decisively grabbed a clump of accumulated snow and smacked it directly onto his forehead.

The hard lump of snow jolted him awake instantly; its icy chill dispelled the unbearable heat he had felt just moments ago. When he looked up again, the figure in the distance had once more covered his face with his thick cloak, leaving only a pair of golden eyes visible—as keenly observant as before, fixed intently on Wen Luan.

What a truly unfortunate encounter—a misstep in time, place, and object alike!

Picking up the alloy longsword lying beside the corpse, Wen Luan slowly retreated until the wind-driven snow filled the space between them. As both figures blurred into indistinct shadows, Wen Luan hesitated no longer and turned to flee without looking back.

Though such encounters may be enticing, he thought, preserving one’s life takes precedence.

To traverse the harsh frozen plain where biting winds raged unchecked—to avoid being devoured by hungry wolves, attacked by refugee bands, or succumbing to hypothermia—could anyone who managed these trials possibly be ordinary? Even if their martial prowess was lacking, there was undoubtedly a high-tech weapon within reach at all times.

Therefore, don’t blame him for having lustful intentions but lacking the courage to act on them; at first glance, that beauty was clearly not someone he could subdue.

Engaging in a physical struggle amidst this icy landscape? The challenge level was simply too high—and besides—damn it, that person was male! Even though Wen Luan lived in a relatively open society, he had never considered the possibility of cross-gender solutions for his physiological needs.

Keeping a wary eye on the situation behind him, he noticed his pursuer hadn’t followed up. Relieved, Wen Luan let out a sigh and took a detour to continue addressing his dinner problem.

Watching as Wen Luan disappeared into the wind and snow, the figure who had remained standing motionless slowly shifted one foot forward.

Snowflakes and shards of ice cascaded down from the cloak with a soft rustling sound.

The pale lips curved slightly, forming a hint of a mocking arc. The cloaked individual muttered to himself, “Exiled criminals? Or perhaps new recruits undergoing the army’s cold plain survival training this term? Andros, I need the list of all exiles and soldiers who entered the Silent Frozen Plain this winter.”

A peculiar buzzing noise emanated from beside him, followed by the projection of a virtual image within the swirling storm.

In the hazy white glow, the silhouette of a black-armored knight gradually solidified.

Holding a pitch-black heavy sword, standing three meters tall, clad in cold-hard armor—only a pair of blue-glowing electronic eyes were visible on its helmet. Upon appearing, it bowed deeply, exuding an aura of sharp intensity throughout its entire being:

“Lord Cyrus, I am merely your mecha, not your photobrain. For research inquiries, please consult someone else.”

Underneath the cloak, a person felt a surge of exasperation at this response. After a moment, they said, “… You can connect to any institution on Deep Blue; could you replicate some information for me?”

“That is not my duty, Your Excellency,” the black-armored knight replied firmly. “My sole responsibility is to protect you, fight for you, and engage alongside you. Even with your highest authority, I will not accept additional commands—especially those involving abuse of power or misuse of public duties!”

The golden-eyed figure’s gaze twitched slightly before silently changing the subject:

“Have you found Xi’er yet?”

“Search confirmed: ahead, on the Frozen Plain.”

“Just now, Xi’er suddenly powered up autonomously, forcefully breached Andumari City’s defense shield, and arrived here on the plain. Why exactly did he do that?”

“Incapable of answering,” the black-armored knight responded in his stiff, mechanical voice. “Xi’er has rejected communication requests.”

“Hm?”

“The reason given was ‘system undergoing self-inspection.'”

“Is that so?” The man draped in a cloak nodded slowly. “It seems there must have been some error. Then let us return. Andros, I believe once Xi’er completes his self-inspection, he will come back on his own.”

“Order acknowledged.” The knight dropped to one knee, deeply bowing his head while resting his broadsword before him. “Short-range spatial jump, initiate.”

In the next instant, both the black-armored knight and the figure shrouded in a cloak transformed into fragmented shadows and vanished simultaneously.

Four hours later, Wen Luan, huddled in his stone cave, sighed wistfully as he gazed at the wall where he marked the days. The sky was pitch-black; it was impossible to discern the time without any reference points. He could only guess based on intuition—this winter had just begun, with many long, arduous months still ahead.

The snow wolf meat within the cave barely sufficed for six more days’ worth of rations.

The frigid climate froze their food solid, turning it into icy lumps. When Wen Luan ate, even his tongue seemed numb from the cold. With each morsel split by his alloy knife, he struggled to tear through the frozen flesh with his teeth. After swallowing, he couldn’t even taste what he’d consumed.

Having gone hungry for two days straight, then consuming raw meat again now, Wen Luan’s stomach rebelled against this treatment. Half-reclining on a blanket made from wolf fur, he weakly rubbed his abdomen, feeling utterly drained.

By all rights, common sense dictated that he should have died long ago from acute enteritis after eating moss and raw rabbit meat earlier.

Even Wen Luan himself marveled at how fortuitously lucky he’d been thus far.

“How am I supposed to survive six whole months without moss?” Wen Luan thought with a headache-inducing ponder. Before this, he had eaten moss every day, its bitterness nearly driving him insane—but now that there was truly no more moss to eat, he couldn’t help but worry about vitamin deficiencies. Forced to consume meat exclusively all day, he feared developing strange ailments.

He wished so fervently that Deep Blue’s claim about lost individuals were true.

Oh God, he prayed, let me wake up and return to Meteorite Town… Even if it means going three consecutive months without pay, I’d gladly spend each day at church offering devout prayers—it wouldn’t be a problem!

Wen Luan rubbed his stomach and closed his eyes, drifting off hazily.

Just as sleep began to envelop him, a sudden deafening roar shattered the silence—

Boom!

The frigid wind made Wen Luan jump in place. With horror, he gazed upon the pitch-black sky—indeed, the stone cave ceiling had vanished entirely. Collapsed ice rocks tumbled to either side, rendering their shelter utterly ruined. This cavern, once protected by three bends from the harsh winds, slightly warmer than the Frozen Plain outside—it now lay completely destroyed.

Wen Luan trembled with rage.

Without the advantages afforded by terrain, even after the polar night passed, rich moss would never again grow within the fissures of these caves. His very livelihood and future had been irreparably shattered!

A towering figure emerged amidst the swirling snowstorm.

With a knightly lance adorned with feather-patterned silver shafts, the figure swept across violently, scattering debris around Wen Luan. In an instant, a ten-meter-wide clearing materialized around him, leaving nothing but emptiness.

“Xi’er?! What is this bastard machine trying to accomplish?”

Wen Luan raged furiously, cursing, “I’ll dismantle you!”

As one might expect, these were merely words spoken in his berserk state; he didn’t even know the basic structure of mechs, let alone how to disassemble Xi’er.

The silver-armored knight thrust its long spear deeply into the ice layer. With hand on chest and body bent forward, it stood there—the silhouette of its long silvery hair drifting beside its handsome, expressionless face—as it announced, “System self-check complete. Thought module reassembly and upgrade successful. Awaiting instructions.”

Upon hearing Wen Luan’s angry curse, the electronic eyes flickered once before straightening up. Suddenly, light radiated brilliantly from every part of its body.

Wen Luan—uh, feeling quite uneasy—he took a step back.

Facing a future intelligent mech with combat power and strength off the charts, he thought, it would be abnormal not to feel apprehensive!

“Command acknowledged,” Xi’er muttered to itself. “Initiating language analysis and conversion process.”

“Dismantle?” Xi’er repeated. “To break me down into fragments? Understood. Initiating Xi’er at eighty percent capacity.”

The silver-armored knight’s eyes snapped open, the blue screens shifting to red. This transformation instantly cast an aura of evil over its previously handsome demeanor. Its voice resonated with such force that it shattered falling snowflakes mid-air:

“Autonomous form, decompose!”

In an instant, the knight’s entire body seemed to explode, dispersing into countless white metallic pieces that now floated suspended in the air.

The gale swept Wen Luan back repeatedly; he couldn’t help but raise his arm to shield his forehead, trying to discern the situation amidst the intense light.

“Ah!”

Those metallic chunks hurtled towards him like shooting stars. In Wen Luan’s pupils, several dark shadows streaked across as they pierced through his vision. Petrified, he shrank down instinctively, attempting to evade this terrifying barrage of flying projectiles.

Clack!

The metal pieces halted mere centimeters before Wen Luan, then swiftly reassembled themselves.

In just a few seconds, a silver fuselage-shaped airship no longer than five meters appeared, perfectly encapsulating Wen Luan within its confines.

“…”

Wen Luan slowly lifted his head, gazing at the metal cabin wall before him.

“Please move your feet slightly,” Xi’er’s voice chimed in. “There’s still part of the floor in the lower deck that hasn’t fully closed.”

Wen Luan glanced at the ice beneath his feet but remained unmoved. Suddenly, the entire airship gave a lurch. Losing his balance, Wen Luan reached out to steady himself against the cabin wall. Outside, the abandoned knight’s long spear clattered into fragments of metal shards with a resounding bang. These whirled into the airship through the gap, instantly filling the lower deck. Within moments, these shards had transformed the empty interior of the airship into a functional cockpit complete with instrument panels, screens, and metal seats.

Before Wen Luan could process what was happening, the airship let out a whoosh and soared directly into the sky.

—Who wouldn’t believe this is not a Transformers sequel?!

“What exactly are you trying to do? This is kidnapping!” Wen Luan crawled up, shouting angrily.

“Kidnapping? I deny it; I’m merely on my way,” Xi’er said earnestly as his virtual image appeared on the airship screen. “In the lost population records of Deep Blue, I discovered information about you. You use English, but your name originates from another ancient forgotten civilization.”

The words “Wen Luan” flashed in Chinese characters on the screen. Xi’er extended his hand, and green data streams reformed into a thick stack of documents upon it. He stated solemnly, “Based on these records, you have been stranded on Deep Blue for over a month. Conclusion: There’s a possibility you may remain here forever. Considering your current environment, situation, conditions, along with Deep Blue’s efforts to recover its lost population, I have devised a survival plan tailored specifically for you.”

Wen Luan felt utterly helpless. “Yes, indeed I am part of the lost population,” he conceded. “But that means there’s no way I could possibly be the holder of Raymond Gaeton. So just hurry up and return me home!”

Xi’er pushed his helmet back with one finger, wearing a serious expression. “Please refrain from questioning my IQ settings!”

“… “

“Although this is my first activation since being manufactured, I use energy wave patterns to detect targets, which is more reliable than eyesight.” In the virtual image, Xi’er waved his hand, and two curved lines appeared. Then, without any gap, they overlapped perfectly. “This matches the life signature data recorded in the core module for the holder of Raymond Gaeton.”

Wen Luan stared speechlessly.

Heavens above, where exactly did this colossal misunderstanding come from?

“It’s clearly a perfect match,” Xi’er said firmly.

Xi’er bowed once again as a sign of respect. With a subsequent authoritative wave of his hand, the diagram comparing curve patterns vanished from the screen. A map reappeared instead, with several bright spots visible on it.

“Here, this is Deep Blue’s capital city, Meredith City, and beyond its borders lies the Silent Frozen Plain…” Xi’er pointed at a specific location on the map—the clear boundary between ocean and frozen plain—”We must cross the plain to reach this place.”

“The civilian interstellar port. From here, we can find an opportunity to leave Deep Blue altogether.”

“… Why should I leave Deep Blue?” Wen Luan asked deliberately; truthfully, this plan was actually tempting him greatly.

“For your identity sake, my master,” Xi’er stated methodically. “You might be killed by the research institute, and then Raymond Gaeton could be assigned to another government official with real power. No one would feel secure knowing that the highest technology of the White Whale Galaxy was entrusted to someone classified as missing population.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Wen Luan’s forehead.

“The most advanced technology—why does it sound like you’re praising yourself?”

“Denial.” The silver-armored knight shook his head firmly. “Deep Blue possesses mechs equal to or even higher than my rank.”

Wen Luan fell silent.

“But fewer than five are currently operational,” Xi’er continued sternly. “Among them is Andros, which surpasses me in rank. According to the data, it belongs to Cyrus, the prime minister of the kingdom. In all my performance metrics, only intelligence exceeds Andros’. As the holder of Raymond Gaeton, you possess the highest authority over myself. However, I am unaware of the original settings for other mechs, so—”

The silvery airship swiftly flew low amidst the swirling snowstorm.

“Flee with me, my master,” Xi’er urged. “Our enemy is the entire kingdom!”

“Wait!” Isn’t this just hastening my demise by starving me back in the ice cave? At least there, no nation would hunt me! Wen Luan realized that this wasn’t abduction at all—he’d been kidnapped by an entire kingdom’s mech instead!

“Wait?” Oh right, recalling a phrase from the lost civilization of his master’s name—”know thyself and know thy enemy.” “Allow me to brief you on the situation regarding the kingdom!”

Completely floored, Wen Luan remained speechless…