Chapter 31: Ninth Fortress

It was already 10 p.m. when An He stepped out of the office. She and Ide had talked for a full four hours.

Before coming, An He had asked Asta for an hour’s leave. Now, as she left the office and the Central District, she stood on the central avenue, gazing up at the night sky.

Few people in this world ever looked up at the night sky. It was usually shrouded in a thick layer of fog, the projected light hazy and blurred, making everything seem even more desolate and lonely.

But tonight, An He felt, it was just right.

She walked slowly along the silent main road, treading the glow of the night lights.

For most of those four hours, it had been Ide doing the talking.

Something Su Ling had said must have struck a chord with Ide. She recounted the history of the Thirteen Fortresses to An He—some of which An He had heard in brief during Asta’s theory classes, but not clearly.

These events had happened long before Ide was born. Ide’s grandmother had told them to her mother, her mother had passed them on to her, and now Ide was sharing them with An He.

Ide explained that the thirteen remaining fortresses on this wasteland had formed only after prolonged struggles and reorganizations—resource scarcity inevitably led to such outcomes, and they had been prepared for it. You couldn’t expect all women to be gentle and kind. They would show goodwill to their own clans, but they would also fight fiercely for power and resources. Of course, unlike the old era, defeat belonged to them, and victory belonged to them too.

Ide patiently outlined the resources controlled by each of the Thirteen Fortresses, their strengths and weaknesses, and which ones had longstanding ties with the Ninth Fortress.

In Ide’s telling, An He frequently heard two fortress names: the Third Fortress, which produced salt, and the Seventh Fortress, which controlled gasoline. These were the two that had agreed to join Ide against the enemy.

Both ranked in the middle in overall strength, and their leaders had decent relations with Ide. But an alliance was still an alliance, driven by interests. Ide’s tone made it clear she wasn’t counting on them entirely.

She remained the “Wolf King” who wanted to control the situation and trusted in her own strength.

After laying out the big picture, Ide turned to the Ninth Fortress’s past.

That was when An He learned that all five founders of the Ninth Fortress had come from the First Fortress. They had preserved some precious legacies from Ivyen City—the original name of the Mother City—like dual-female or single-female reproductive technology, neural signal monitoring tech, and mechanical engineering. At the same time, they had abandoned the First Fortress’s class structure. Over the following years, they gathered defectors from various fortresses and held onto this land amid contests and development. Among those original five was a doctor surnamed Su, an elder in Su Ling’s family.

Of course, those people had long since turned to stardust, silently and eternally guarding the Ninth Fortress.

They talked about more besides.

Ide said that few in this generation knew there was a vast world beyond the Thirteen Fortresses—possibly even more habitable places, like other continents or islands. But Ide had no idea what the ocean looked like.

An He realized then that most people on this land had never seen the sea. Ancient texts and books mentioned the word, but some sights couldn’t be imagined without seeing them.

In Ide’s description, the ocean was something like a blue wasteland.

But the Thirteen Fortresses hadn’t expanded outward. Beyond this wasteland lay only the Strong Radiation Zone, shrouded in black fog.

Forty or fifty years ago, exploration teams had ventured out to find new survival resources and expand territory. But without exception, the teams’ vital signs vanished.

No one attempted such futile efforts anymore.

In that conversation, the map in An He’s mind finally filled in piece by piece.

Finally, Ide gave An He a chance to discuss defense and offense plans.

Ide’s goals saw subtle adjustments. They decided to create maximum deterrence with minimal manpower.

In the coming days, Ide would meet with key Thorn Lamp members to plan, but no one knew the real scheme until implementation.

The night grew colder with dew. An He wandered alone for a bit, sorting the information in her mind, before returning to her dorm alone.

Over the next half month, An He trained intensively.

She knew scheming and intrigue lurked in the shadows. The dead infiltrator likely had alerted the First Fortress, so she needed to seize every moment.

The Ninth Fortress’s firepower reinforcements proceeded apace. Defenses were set within a twenty-li radius.

Ide’s alliance plans kept shifting.

Two more fortresses joined the alliance, but like group projects, some charged ahead while others slacked off. Ide didn’t care how much effort her allies put in—that was for later. What she needed now was the title, the bluff to intimidate, to make the First Fortress hesitate first.

This five-to-one standoff actually brought a stretch of quiet to the wasteland. No one dared make the first rash move.

In this situation, An He gained more training opportunities. She pushed herself relentlessly, growing fast—physical training by day, theory review by night.

Once her strength, speed, and endurance met Asta’s standards, An He dove into shooting courses and Nestsoul tactics.

A month later, she could summon her Nestsoul fluidly. Her conviction and mindset had leaped qualitatively, unrecognizable from a month prior. Indeed, sensing a Nestsoul was like sensing one’s muscles—control was key. Now, Raven’s coverage extended to a one-kilometer diameter.

Asta said An He’s Nestsoul was great not just for scouting but for air strikes. With suitable weapons for it to carry, dropping them from above made for perfectly flexible bombers. So An He and Asta brainstormed many Nestsoul tactics.

An He’s Innate Talent ranged twenty meters, sustainable for over ten minutes—per Lola’s tests, for reference only.

Real combat varied.

The good news: As An He’s control over her muscles and body strengthened, her mental power stabilized, no longer fluctuating.

The downside: Her mental power was only C-grade. If Ide hadn’t witnessed An He’s excellent combat performance, she would have ranked her below Heidi and stuck her in logistics.

Fortunately, the result came late.

Seeing her mental power grade, An He stayed calm. It was unremarkable—maybe a good thing for future missions.

A new training round began. Asta overhauled An He’s plan: more time on survival skills, stealth techniques, stress training. The high-pressure schedule and tense atmosphere honed her mental resilience perfectly.

One day, walking back to the dorms with Asta, An He’s hand brushed Asta’s icy mechanical prosthetic leg. Su Ling’s words flashed in her mind. Does Asta ever feel lost too? This resolute red-haired woman showed almost no vulnerability.

But the stronger they were, the harder it was to spot mental issues—even for themselves.

“Teacher.” An He slowed. “Do you play the harmonica in your dorm? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”

“You can’t play in the dorm. It disturbs others.” Asta’s reply was textbook.

“I see.” An He looked thoughtful.

Heidi carved crafts before bed. What did Asta do? An He imagined her staring blankly for long stretches.

An He stopped at 801’s door, watching Asta pull out her key to say goodbye. She thought: “When I moved in, Heidi said she’d take me to your dorm, but training got in the way. I still haven’t been.” An He asked, “Can I see your dorm?”

“Sure.” Asta agreed readily. “If you’re bored, bring Heidi.”

Great idea. An He knocked on Heidi’s door. The three ended up in Asta’s room, munching Heidi’s hoarded apple and sweet potato dries.

Asta’s room was spotless. She was meticulously orderly; furniture sat exactly as when she moved in, bedding folded perfectly.

But not entirely cold. She’d been with Thorn Lamp sixteen years. Though clutter was scarce, life traces abounded—the bedframe lighter where she sat up each morning to lower her legs to the floor. Her path from door to desk to bed had polished the concrete smooth. You could tell at a glance how she moved daily.

On her desk sat Heidi’s gift: an iron craft figurine. And a special box for her harmonica.

An He noted every detail. They devoured the snacks, chatting and laughing. Mostly Heidi recounting old fun times, Asta rebutting, An He gasping or laughing as they bickered. Heidi was busy; such gatherings were rare lately.

A joyful night.

Before leaving, An He stood by the window, overlooking the fortress bathed in cool glow. She turned to Asta: “Teacher, how about I request from the commander tomorrow—we three patrol? Me, you, and Heidi.”

Asta froze. “What nonsense?”

“Just patrol—no issue.” An He said. “Thorn Lamp has three routes; we’ll take the shortest. Bone Eaters haven’t neared the fortress lately. We won’t even leave the vehicle.”

She leaned on the windowsill: “Coming?”

An He caught the spark in Asta’s eyes—not obvious, like a sudden light surge, but her sharp gaze seized it.

“You’re concerned about the war too, right Teacher?” An He tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “Tensions are high; more hands help. Teacher, we need you.”

Asta didn’t respond, but Heidi lunged, hugging her: “Yes! If the commander okays, I’ll shift my schedule! Come with us, Asta!”

After a long pause, Asta nodded.

…

Ide quickly approved An He’s request. She arched a brow at An He across the desk: “Your idea? Or Professor Su’s suggestion?”

An He tilted her head, puzzled: “Why Professor Su? It’s mine.”

“Good.” Ide’s gaze approved. “Don’t go far… Protect Asta.”

“Got it.” An He turned to leave.

Before she reached the door, Ide called her back. The bold commander scratched her forehead awkwardly, muttering reluctantly: “Oh, and don’t be obvious. Don’t let her notice you’re protecting her.”

An He smiled faintly. Ide’s awkwardness was cute. She replied loudly: “Understood, Commander.”

Ide worried too much.

Asta might need care, but not protection.

An He geared up. A month since her last proper mission. Her kit was fuller now, including a gun she knew how to use. Shooting accuracy wasn’t great, but with Shatterblade Time, she had extra aiming time.

Today, though, weapons wouldn’t see much action.

They took the nearest patrol route, skirting Iron Wall eastward, never more than a kilometer from it. Utterly safe.

Heidi drove her junker only she could handle. The three returned to the wasteland.

As if a lifetime had passed.

Asta sat properly in the passenger seat, scarf slightly loosened, inhaling the wasteland’s scorched scent. No combat today, so her usual low ponytail of red hair hung loose, dancing in the wind like a vibrant, living river—rushing, flowing, endless.

An He sat in the back seat, her arm propped on the window sill, quietly taking in the scene.

A raven perched on the vehicle’s frame.

Up front, the two women chatted about their past missions—mostly Heidi chattering excitedly while Asta listened intently. Heidi even patiently explained the current defenses across the Wasteland. Their vehicle skirted around traps, following a specific route at a steady speed.

Ravens occasionally alighted on the car to rest.

As they passed the southeast sector, An He touched the skin on her left arm.

Applying to venture beyond the walls today wasn’t just about strengthening camaraderie and providing psychological healing—An He had another purpose. Last night, Gu Xianqing had invaded her dream and told her she’d found an old machine capable of reading chips.

But that machine couldn’t be brought into the Ninth Fortress yet, and An He couldn’t use it personally.

So, without a sound, she slipped the two chips pinched between her fingertips into the raven’s beak. The raven spread its wings and flew off silently. It will head to the agreed spot and tuck the chips beneath a stone.

The raven is smart. And so am I. She’d already made the arrangement with Gu Xianqing: “Check them out for me first, then tell me what you find in my dreams.”

Dreams are so damn convenient, An He thought. She’d never imagined the day would come when she’d be grateful for those dreams she’d once despised beyond measure.