Chapter 37 — ILK Chapter 37

Deep-Fried Rice Balls

As a Guide, Sang Ye was required to board the flagship warship along with two other Guides to ensure her safety. Mu An was the exception; he and Wu Huansheng were inseparable. Even when requested otherwise, he would simply state: "There is no place safer than by General Wu Huansheng’s side."

The other two Guides were the only ones the base could currently deploy: one was a silver-haired woman with natural wrinkles at the corners of her eyes but a tall, upright posture—she looked kind and approachable. The other looked even younger than Sang Ye, with a baby face and a petite frame, yet a gaze full of resolve.

The Sentinels remaining at the base bore a heavy responsibility and could not leave their posts, so there weren't many people there to see the fleet off. Except for Wu Jianing, who was being held by a robot nanny. Accustomed to partings, she waved vigorously at her parents, though even the toughest child looked a bit pitiful at this moment.

There was also an unexpected figure standing not far away: Jiang Sili. As a key figure responsible for overseeing rioting Sentinels and guarding the base, he could not accompany the main force to the Snow Mountain. He stood tall as usual, but his expression was desolate. He stared fixedly at a specific spot on the flagship's porthole, seemingly bidding a silent farewell to someone.

When Sang Ye snapped out of her thoughts, she had already boarded the main cabin. She looked toward the direction Jiang Sili was staring; Asu Ment was inconspicuously withdrawing her gaze from the window. The elderly Guide sat across from Asu Ment, smiling gently and warmly.

Once everyone was seated, the hatch doors began to close in sequence. There were ten minutes left.

"Is that...?" It was the elderly Guide who spoke up, pointing. "Look outside."

Sang Ye leaned forward slightly to look. A streak of gold-red light, trailing flames, flashed by. A figure leaped several times and reached the flagship, sliding through the hatch just before it sealed shut—like a nimble, giant bird, graceful and swift. The person landed on the cabin floor without making a sound, then stood up leisurely.

Asu Ment glanced at him but said nothing. Initially, Lin Changli’s presence might have made her position awkward, but after all these years, she no longer cared. Aside from causing trouble that made her job harder, Lin Changli showed no sign of interfering with her management of Black Tower; he simply existed as a highly destructive "wealthy idler." She had long since learned to turn a blind eye to his coming and going as he pleased—sometimes even piloting a warship openly out of the system.

There were many empty seats in the cabin. Lin Changli chose a spot neither too close nor too far from Sang Ye, sitting directly across from her.

The atmosphere in the flagship was calm and collected, but the other fleets were in an uproar.

"Is that the Marshal?"

"It’s him! I saw his spiritual form!"

"Taking flight without relying on a spiritual form or machinery... only the Marshal can do that."

Murmurs continued, though there were certainly voices of doubt. The previous suppression of the Snow Mountain tribes had been led by Lin Changli personally, yet only two or three months later, the tribes were rioting again. Was this not a failure on his part? On the other hand, someone countered: "What was he supposed to do? Kill them all?"

Amidst the noise, Wu Huansheng and Mu An exchanged a look but joined no discussion. Amidst the clamor, the warships took off one by one.

…

"Let me out," the little Phoenix was clamoring again.

Lin Changli sneered in his mind: In your dreams. Let you out? Where to? Is this warship big enough to hold you?

"I can shrink!" The Phoenix was indignant, soaring through his mental landscape and setting fires everywhere.

"Heh," Lin Changli sneered again, not trusting it for a second.

"Besides, I can fly! I can fly in space! I'm not a weakling human like you."

"Stop making a mess. I'm not spending mental energy to rebuild your landscape. If you keep acting up, you'll be sleeping on scorched earth from now on," Lin Changli ignored it. "Why are other people's spiritual forms not nearly as troublesome as you?"

"How can you say I'm making a mess? You're the one making a mess!" The Phoenix, though annoyed, finally settled down. "I am a projection of your subconscious. Even if you changed spiritual forms, it would be the same—unless you changed your personality."

Spiritual forms often display traits different from their masters, representing a side of the subconscious or "the person the master wishes to be." A master who is bold and uninhibited might have a sensitive, reserved spiritual form; a master who is restrained and polite might have one that is reckless and unrestrained.

Lin Changli shut up and couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sang Ye, sitting across from him, didn't miss this inexplicable eye-roll.

"..."

"..."

Their eyes met, and the air filled with awkwardness. Sang Ye finally couldn't hold back. She leaned forward and whispered, "Are you... actually sick?"

No one in the cabin missed the question. A strange silence filled the air. Lin Changli was at a disadvantage; he couldn't exactly explain that he was arguing with his spiritual form—that would sound even more insane.

"What did you do?" the Phoenix started chirping again. "How are you so bad at this? How did you piss her off without saying a single word?"

Lin Changli remained expressionless. He didn't want to make any more expressions, nor did he want to acknowledge it.

The speed of a warship was incomparable to a transport truck. A truck might take a week to reach the Snow Mountain Base, but the warships arrived directly above it in just two hours. While the flagship stayed in the center, the Sentinels on the other ships prepared to land.

The Snow Mountain Base had lost all contact two days ago. The communication systems were destroyed. The last message received was from Major General Keliu’s private terminal: Snow Mountain tribes rebelled. Base lost. Abandoning base, retreating into the mountains. After that, silence.

Major General Keliu had followed Asu Ment through countless battles and was her most trusted subordinate. The fleet established a magnetic field covering thousands of kilometers; all communications within this range would be captured, facilitating military coordination.

Asu Ment stood up and issued the order: "Vanguard, land. Watch for traps."

She came with fierce intent and no desire for negotiation. The base had to be retaken; otherwise, the ships would have no energy resupply or landing space.

The fleet used special coating to stay hidden in the heavy snow. Several figures leaped from the hatches, wearing black wing-suits, landing like ghosts around the base before advancing. From Sang Ye’s perspective, once the Sentinels hit the snow, even their black silhouettes vanished.

"If the vanguard can't retake the base successfully..." the baby-faced Guide looked toward Asu Ment with worry.

The tall, blonde woman didn't hesitate: "If we cannot retake it with minimal cost, then we bombard the sub-base and level it. As long as we occupy the ore vein, we have energy and can rebuild."

Twenty minutes later, a report came through the channel: "General, the base is empty."

The tribes hadn't occupied it. Before retreating, Keliu had taken all supplies. Finding nothing to loot, the tribes had trashed the base in spite and returned to their lands.

The fleet landed. The vanguard set out again to inspect the nearby mines. Within the covered network, distress signals from retreating Sentinels began to trickle in. Some were physically okay, but their mental states were on the verge of collapse. However, many Sentinels sent no word at all, their fates unknown. Some managed to send messages saying they were immobilized and could not return. They were scattered across the mountain; they had to be rescued, but skirmishes along the way were inevitable.

In this situation, Mental Recovery Agents would be of little use without a Guide's channeling. Agents were like tea or black coffee—a temporary boost. True recovery required proper "sleep," which meant mental channeling.

But this fleet had brought a special Guide.

Sang Ye, under the expectant gaze of the crew, pondered what high-energy foods she could make in a short time. Historically, foods that satisfy high energy demands are high in oil, sugar, and fat.

For the staple, she used the freshly made Instant Rice Balls. Additionally, she used fine sugar and butter to make Meat Floss Bread. The bread was high in sugar and stuffed with red bean paste for extra glucose and plant nutrients.

Making meat floss was simple: tenderloin cubes blanched with aromatics and steamed until cooked. After slicing, she pounded them with a rolling pin until fluffy. In a pan greased with lard, she added soy sauce, chicken essence, and thirteen-spice, stir-frying over low heat. To get the perfect "fluff," she used a robot's blade-arm in a small box to spin-cut the meat, quickly creating a golden, cotton-like texture.

The bread was shaped into triangles, sliced open, and stuffed with thick red bean paste before being baked. Soon, the makeshift "kitchen" was filled with a sweet aroma, and mental energy surged into the main hall. As the Sentinels cleaned the trashed base, they were suddenly washed over by the fragrance and energy, their spirits lifting instantly.

Sang Ye packed the kits in a ratio of two rice balls, one bread, and three bottles of lemon water. Although the robot’s containers were insulated, the Snow Mountain was harsh; she couldn't guarantee the food would still be hot at its destination. But having food was better than having nothing. Even if it froze into a block, a high-rank Sentinel could handle it.

As the demand outpaced her, the other two Guides came over to help. Fortunately, it wasn't hard to learn. Presentation didn't matter—utility did.