Working in the Black Hidden Village Has Pushed Me to My Limit. Part 1

It was like a colossal serpent forged from steel, its metallic scales glinting in the dim light…

That was the impression that struck me upon seeing the completed marvel before my eyes.

Enormous boxes, each one as large as four or five cargo beds of a covered wagon, merged together, connected in a sinuous line… The boxes at the front and rear were streamlined, their curves reminiscent of a living creature’s head. It was as if a two-headed snake had been given mechanical life…

However, this creation did not move with the sluggish crawl of a serpent bound to the earth. It was more akin to an arrow in flight! It soared through the vast network of caves that Keaton had painstakingly woven beneath the Land of Death, propelled like a projectile launched from a siege engine.

Yes… This entity relied not on legs or wheels for locomotion. Instead, it harnessed the power of electromagnetism… Once its passengers were safely ensconced within and the cave sealed, that power would suffuse the space… and with a single pulse, it would be expelled, propelling the vessel forward.

Indeed, the true nature of this steel serpent was that of a vehicle. Its name was the Linear Rail. It served as the feet for all of us, traversing the subterranean depths of the Land of Death at a speed that defied belief.

And what a speed it was! This marvel could carry us from one end of the Land of Death to the other, a distance vast enough to encompass an entire country in less than an hour. The inhabitants of other lands could scarcely imagine that such a creation was weaving its way through the tunnels beneath that forsaken territory.

The process of constructing this underground network had been nothing short of spectacular. Keaton had linked together the automatic construction units, each one as large as a small fortress, in a configuration reminiscent of a queen ant’s abdomen… As he advanced, his drill bit chomping through the earth, these units followed in his wake, automatically constructing the tunnels that would house the Linear Rail.

The pace of their progress rivalled that of a galloping steed. Through the feed from our drones, I witnessed the awe-inspiring sight of the freshly bored tunnels being reinforced and shaped by a plethora of specialized machines mere moments after they were hollowed out. It was a scene that evoked an eerie fascination.

I owed Keaton a profound debt of gratitude for his tireless efforts. His mechanical body, impervious to exhaustion, had allowed him to labour ceaselessly on the tunnel’s construction, toiling through both day and night.

The Linear Rail we had constructed under the “Mamiya” would link us to the underground resource extraction bases that Keaton had also established across the Land of Death, as well as to the undersea base still under construction.

But let us set aside the topic of the undersea base for now. That particular marvel was to be introduced in tandem with “Toku”, one of the three major modules charged with overseeing the “Sea” and serving as the overall supervisor of that domain.

The purpose of these subterranean bases was exactly as their name implied: to mine the untapped resources that lay buried in the far-flung corners of the Land of Death. Up until now, we had been greedily consuming the stockpiles of resources housed within the “Mamiya”, but we knew that such profligacy could not continue indefinitely. No matter how vast the bounty bequeathed to us by our forebears, it would inevitably run dry if we persisted in our unrestrained usage. It was imperative that we not only consume but also replenish.

And the sheer scope and variety of the resources required for that endeavor was staggering. Metals both familiar and precious—iron, copper, silver, gold—were only the beginning… There were also substances I had never encountered before, such as aluminum, petroleum… and the enigmatic ore known as Resonium, which was said to form the very hull of the “Mamiya”.

Extracting these coveted materials was the raison d’etre of our underground bases. Much like the “Mamiya” herself, nearly every facet of their operation was fully automated. Indeed, it was the “Mamiya” who commanded them from afar, manipulating them as easily as one might send instructions through a handheld device.

Drills akin to Keaton’s own appendage worked in concert with robotic hands and a host of sophisticated processing equipment, delving deep into the earth to extract the precious resources and refine them into optimal form within the base’s confines… From there, the fruits of their labours would be transported back to the hidden village via the Linear Rail, just as we humans were… before ultimately making their way into the eager grasp of the “Mamiya”.

At present, a dozen of these subterranean facilities had been established across the Land of Death, operating in a carefully coordinated rotation. What I found truly astonishing was the realization that even with such an extensive network of mining infrastructure at our disposal, we had yet to acquire all of the resource types our endeavours demanded. Alas, the rapacious appetites of our ancestors knew no bounds. In the most literal sense, they had delved into the very building blocks of creation, seeking to bend every substance imaginable to their will and harness them for their own ends.

And therein lay our most daunting challenge: to unravel the arcane secrets left behind by those who came before us and master the operation of the facilities they had so painstakingly constructed. For even the most sophisticated automation was not an absolute; there would always be critical junctures where human judgment was required.

It went without saying that the new slave recruits and elf girls, as well as Banho and I, had not fully learned the intricacies of this technology. Therefore, we took turns using the Linear Rail to visit each base, attending daily training sessions under Eve’s tutelage.

Of course, this arrangement meant that not all bases could operate at full capacity simultaneously. As mentioned earlier, only one base was active per day, following a carefully planned rotation. Each base took its turn, extracting resources while also serving as a classroom for our ongoing education.

It was a frustrating reality, but we knew that any misstep could prove disastrous. We were still in the early stages, sowing the seeds of our future… If every single slave, down to the lowest, could be trained to harness the awe-inspiring technology of the “Mamiya”… The potential benefits were beyond imagining.

Incidentally, I held out hope that some of the individuals who had fallen in with Ooga’s Mohawk Underlings might find a path to redemption through this process. As for Ooga herself? I had already written her off as a lost cause. It was best not to dwell on her fate.

Even so… The fact that I now had the luxury of contemplating such matters was a testament to the successful completion of these underground bases and the Linear Rail network that connected them. And for that, I owed an immense debt of gratitude to Keaton’s unwavering dedication.

Keaton… One of the three preeminent human-type modules that formed the pride of the “Mamiya”, entrusted with dominion over the “Land”. From the very beginning, I had been filled with nothing but gratitude towards him, not least for his role in creating the spring and verdant areas that served as the foundation of our hidden village. If I were ever to pen an autobiography, I had no doubt that the chapters devoted to him would be extensive.

Thus, on that fateful day, as I conversed with Kamiya in the hangar where she had just completed repairs on her right arm, I found myself utterly stunned by the words that emerged from Keaton’s mouth upon his return from his latest expansion efforts on the Linear Rail network…

“Hey, Master.”

“Oh, Keaton! Did you come to get some necessary equipment? Anyway, good job!”

As I gazed up at his towering form with a smile, he uttered a phrase that sent a chill down my spine:

“I want to pass away in a blaze of glory…”

“Keaton!?”

My shocked outcry echoed through the hangar, reverberating off the metal walls with an almost accusatory tone.