After eliminating the Everchosen, Duanmu Huai's operations in the novice village could finally come to an end.
He didn't tell Karl and the others about sealing the shattered Chaos rift. After all, even if the Chaos Gods could no longer directly interfere with this planet, they could still stir up trouble through their mortal followers. Since they no longer had the means to create Old One–level warp gates, the Chaos Daemons could no longer physically manifest on this world. At most, they could manipulate mortals into doing their bidding—which meant it was still better to keep everyone vigilant.
As for the Guardians, Duanmu Huai sent them back to their home star system. They had contributed greatly in this battle. After all, defeating the Chaos army with ordinary troops alone would have been far too difficult. But the Guardians, armed with light energy, were another matter entirely.
With that matter settled, Duanmu Huai turned his focus toward consolidating his Fragment World.
Normally, an Inquisitor player would occupy a planet and establish a recruitment base there. But Duanmu Huai didn't need to—he had the Fragment World, which meant he could effectively travel the universe with an entire world in tow. The advantage was obvious: if you moved the temple, no one could burn it down. He never had to worry about being backstabbed at home. The disadvantage, of course, was that if his fleet were ever destroyed, his Fragment World would also be lost.
Another issue was that Soulwalker players like him could never plan out a fixed development route.
In Star Sea Online, civilizations evolved in a rational, geographical order. A player landing on a new planet would progress step by step—from tribal to ancient, modern, and then advanced civilization—gradually exploring outward. It was like leveling in an MMORPG: you had to cross level 10 monster zones before reaching level 20 zones.
But Soulwalkers were like cosmic nomads, drifting from one system to another, encountering all kinds of civilizations, unable to maintain a consistent evolutionary path.
The advantage, however, was that development in the Fragment World progressed far faster. For example, the STEM Knowledge Crystals that An obtained would have taken other players generations of missions to acquire on their home planets—Duanmu Huai just snatched them up during a side job.
Still, you can't become fat in one bite.
In the end, progress had to be made step by step.
More importantly, Duanmu Huai's current concern was his army. He could handle bosses on his own, but to wipe out the Chaos legions, he needed capable troops. In this last battle, aside from the Guardians he borrowed, the rest of his forces were composed of the warriors under the command of the Night Watchers.
Unfortunately… the news he received from the Night Watchers was not good.
"You're saying—they're unfit?"
Duanmu Huai sat in his chair, staring at the kneeling Night Watcher before him. The latter nodded solemnly.
"Yes, my lord. According to our observations, the souls you recruited from other worlds do not possess sufficient qualifications to serve as true warriors."
"I recall only souls who pass the Night Watchers' trials are eligible to join the Inquisition."
Because the Inquisition was still newly formed, Duanmu Huai hadn't had time to establish formal procedures. So, he lazily copied the Night Watchers' old recruitment system and let them handle the screening.
"A trial is only a trial," the Night Watcher shook his head. "As you know, becoming a Night Watcher is not simply a matter of passing an assessment. One must also undergo long years of battle against daemons. War itself is the final test."
"They've all fought plenty of battles," Duanmu Huai said, recalling the many conflicts back in Skyrim.
"With respect, the wars they've fought are… too low-level. Such experience is meaningless—worse, it can become a liability."
"That's… true."
Playing in Bronze rank too long, you'll never make it to Silver.
"Therefore, if we want these recruits to become true Inquisition soldiers, they need long-term, high-intensity combat training."
"And this world's wars aren't enough, are they?"
The Night Watcher was silent but shook his head slightly. Duanmu Huai understood immediately. The Inquisition's gear utterly outclassed the medieval technology of this world. They didn't need tactics or strategies—just swing the weapon and crush everything. That might work against human enemies or low-level monsters, but against interstellar threats, that kind of experience was useless.
"So what we need," Duanmu Huai mused, tapping the table, "is a planet locked in high-intensity warfare—dangerous enough for training, but not so bad that they get wiped out instantly…"
He frowned. Finding such a place wasn't easy.
"I understand. I'll think on it and see if there's a suitable world."
The Night Watcher bowed deeply before turning and leaving.
"Ugh… such a pain," Duanmu Huai muttered. Finding the right world would be difficult, but doing nothing wasn't an option either.
Forget it. I'll deal with it later.
He rose from his chair and decided to put the matter aside for now.
"Olgis."
"What is it, Master?"
"Come take a walk with me in the Holy City."
Ever since Olgis had merged with the Simulacrum Tear, Duanmu Huai often brought her along on outings. However, Olgis seemed to dislike her new body. According to her, its sensory feedback was too vivid—not ideal for combat. Which made sense: when she'd been a puppet, losing a hand or arm meant nothing. But now that she had nerves that felt pain, things were different.
Worse, she now had to deal with annoying sensations like heat and cold. Before, she didn't care what she wore; now she needed light clothes for the summer and warm coats for the winter. Olgis complained that her "new feature set" was nothing but trouble.
Still, there were benefits—like being able to enjoy food. Despite having human senses, she was still technically a puppet, which meant she could eat things that would kill ordinary people.
For instance, Olgis could eat pufferfish without fear of poisoning.
Duanmu Huai was curious about how the Simulacrum Tear had fused with her in the first place, but not even Ranni could explain it. Speaking of which, the witch was still buried in her studies, rarely leaving her room. Whenever Duanmu Huai checked in, he'd find Ranni sitting at her desk—two hands flipping through a book while the other two scribbled notes on parchment.
Well, having four hands did have its advantages.
Whenever he had downtime, Duanmu Huai liked to stroll through the Holy City.
To him, this place had become something of a vacation retreat. Every visit calmed his mind—watching the bustling streets, the shimmering lakes, the forests and grasslands, all the fairy-tale harmony and beauty—it soothed even his battle-hardened heart. The locals knew him well by now, so he didn't have to worry about trouble.
And every time he came, he made a point to visit the Doll District.
"This place is getting livelier by the day."
He couldn't help but marvel at the sight. After the incident with the Frost King's summoning, the Doll District had been deserted for a while. But it eventually bounced back—and that revival had much to do with him. After all, Duanmu Huai had placed massive orders with the local dollmakers. Now, the city's first automated doll production factory was under construction.
It was one of the loopholes he'd found in Imperial law. He didn't need to create true artificial intelligences; a simple automated factory would do.
Like modern assembly lines for chips or cars—robotic arms performing repetitive assembly tasks. They had nothing to do with AI, yet they greatly increased productivity.
To Inquisitor players, the Imperial AI ban was the very definition of overreaction. Because one AI rebellion happened, they banned AI entirely?
Come on—put a few mechanical arms on an assembly line, what are they gonna do, rebel?
What, are the arms gonna grow legs and run away?
Ridiculous.
"Yo, kid! Long time no see!"
As Duanmu Huai and Olgis stepped into the factory, a booming voice rang out. Looking ahead, he saw a familiar short, stocky engineer waving at him. It was none other than Buddy, the master dollmaker.
"Long time no see, Mr. Buddy," Duanmu Huai greeted with a nod before glancing up at the production line.
"How's everything running?"
"Not bad at all! We still don't understand some of it, but I gotta say—this idea's brilliant!"
Buddy grinned, tapping a wrench against the nearby machine.
"Just adding a few arms and having them follow a preset sequence—it's boosted doll production to a ridiculous speed! I can't believe I never thought of this before!"
"It's not too late to start now," Duanmu Huai replied. "So, how's the project progressing?"
"Pretty good. A lot of crafters agreed to let their designs be mass-produced. Though some still complain that dolls made this way have no soul…"
No shit. That's the whole point. A doll with a soul would be a disaster.
Duanmu Huai rolled his eyes silently.
"So, what did you need me for?"
"Well, it's a bit of a small issue…"
Duanmu Huai glanced toward Olgis, then back at Buddy.
"I want you to… make me another mount."
"…Huh? What happened to the Metal Dracolich I made for you?"
"…It broke."
"…What?! What the hell did you just say?!"
Buddy's roar was so loud it drowned out the rumbling of the factory, booming like thunder.
(End of Chapter)