The Astral Express sailed steadily through the boundless sea of stars, its destination a blue planet marked on the star charts as “Kara.” According to Himeko and Welt, this planet was renowned for its abundant resources and its reputation as an excellent supply point.
For the train, which had just “acquired” a brand-new cargo carriage, it was the perfect location for its first large-scale resupply mission.
The atmosphere on the train remained somewhat delicate these past few days, but it had eased considerably compared to the initial tension.
Mercy still spent most of her time in the corner of the parlor car, but she no longer just sat quietly.
Occasionally, she would help wipe down the coffee table or attempt (under Pom-Pom’s nervous watch) to water the potted plants in the carriage, even though the concept of an energy body watering plants was a bit abstract.
She had even used the knowledge she’d gained from the information terminal to successfully repair a faulty circuit in Himeko’s coffee machine.
This earned her a slightly less scrutinizing look from Himeko, replaced by something more difficult to read.
A Lord Ravager who could fight, repair things, and voluntarily do chores?
The image was deeply incongruous.
Finally, they arrived at Kara.
Through the massive windows of the parlor car, they could see a planet as beautiful as a sapphire, its surface covered in vast oceans and lush green continents.
Freighters shuttled through its orbit like busy worker bees, a testament to its prosperity.
“Preparing to land, pom!” Pom-Pom’s voice came through the speakers.
“This stop is Kara’s Third Spaceport.
Estimated duration: standard resupply cycle.
Passengers who wish to disembark, please prepare, pom!” The airtight hatch slowly opened, and the air of an alien world, slightly humid and carrying the scent of vegetation, flowed into the carriage.
Mercy walked curiously to the doorway and looked outside.
Just then, Pom-Pom came trotting over on his short legs, holding a brand new white card embossed with the Astral Express emblem.
“Here you go, Passenger Mercy, pom,” Pom-Pom said, handing her the card.
His small face wore a mixture of solemnity and lingering nervousness.
“This is a temporary Nameless identity credential, pom!
At train stops, this will grant you basic conveniences and trust, pom!” Mercy took the card in surprise.
It was smooth and warm to the touch, carrying a faint energy of the Trailblaze.
“Conductor Pom-Pom, you…
you trust me now?” Pom-Pom’s ears twitched.
He crossed his arms and tried to look serious.
“Pom-Pom is the conductor, and must take responsibility for all passengers, pom!
Even though your aura is still very…
very that…
you helped the train recover its cargo carriage, you’ve been well-behaved these past few days, and you even fixed Passenger Himeko’s coffee machine, pom!
And also…” He paused, his round eyes shining with a light that belonged to the Astral Express, a light of inclusivity and resolve.
“We don’t ask where you come from, we don’t ask about your past.
As long as you follow the principles of the Trailblaze, and carry a heart of exploration and goodwill, the doors of the train are always open, pom!
That is the spirit of the ‘Trailblaze,’ and the promise we Nameless share, pom!” We don’t ask where you come from.
We don’t ask about your past.
Mercy held the small card in her hand, feeling it grow warm against her palm.
Those simple words carried an unimaginable power and breadth of spirit.
They knew full well that she harbored the power of Destruction within her.
They knew her identity was mysterious and extremely dangerous.
And yet, they were still willing to extend a measure of basic trust and acceptance.
This warmth of a “home” stood in stark, poignant contrast to the memory of her home on Radiant Star, devoured by destruction.
“Thank you, Conductor Pom-Pom.” Mercy tucked the card away carefully, her voice a little choked.
“Alright, pom.
Passenger Welt will be handling the procurement list this time.
Passenger Mercy, if you have any thoughts on sorting and storing supplies, you can go with him and take a look, pom,” Pom-Pom arranged.
“Remember, don’t cause any trouble, pom!” “I’ll be on my best behavior!” Mercy nodded firmly.
And so, following behind Welt Yang, Mercy set foot on an unfamiliar planet for the first time in her new identity as a (temporary) Nameless.
Kara’s Third Spaceport was busy and orderly.
Under its massive dome, all kinds of spacecraft were docked in designated areas.
Loading and unloading robots bustled back and forth.
Merchants and travelers from different star systems formed a bustling stream of people.
The air was thick with the mingled scents of fuel, spices, and various unknown cargoes.
Welt Yang was clearly familiar with the place.
He led Mercy through the crowd, heading straight for the port’s massive material distribution center.
His goal was to purchase enough basic supplies, spare parts, and some specialty interstellar foods to fill the new cargo carriage.
“Our budget is limited, so we need to spend carefully,” Welt said, glancing at his electronic list.
“We’ll focus on supplies that are durable, high-energy, and practical.
Feel free to offer any suggestions…” He trailed off, noticing that Mercy’s gaze was not on the rows of goods, but on the edge of the distribution area, where workers were manually moving heavy cargo in the dock zone.
The scene there was a stark contrast to the high-tech atmosphere of the main spaceport.
Lines of workers, simply dressed, moved like industrious ants.
They carried cargo crates far larger than their own bodies, trudging up steep gangways and ramps between freighters and warehouses.
Heavy footsteps thudded against the metal floors.
Sweat dripped from their bronzed skin, leaving small damp marks on the dusty ground.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat, rust, and exhaustion.
Most of them wore expressionless faces, their eyes numb, as if long accustomed to this endless, physically draining labor.
Every breath came with a heavy gasp.
Every step was a silent struggle against gravity.
Mercy stood there quietly, her blue eyes reflecting the powerful yet oppressive scene.
A feeling she had thought long abandoned by the Path of Destruction began to creep up from the depths of her heart, like tiny vines.
It was a feeling called “compassion.” Destruction meant an end.
It meant the complete erasure of all struggle and suffering.
In a sense, for these lives enduring such crushing labor, destruction might seem like liberation…
No.
That was wrong.
A gentle yet resilient figure suddenly appeared in her mind.
It was her mother.
If her mother were here, seeing this scene, what would she do?
She would feel heartache.
She would want to do something to help, to soothe these weary souls.
She would use her warm smile and her devout hymns to the Harmony, to tell people that unity and mutual aid could lighten their burdens.
In her previous life, Mercy had grown up an orphan, with an empty space in her heart where a mother’s love should have been.
After transmigrating, Emily had filled that void completely with her unreserved, gentle, and powerful love.
Her mother had taught her to protect, to be kind, to hold onto hope even in the face of despair, and to play the melody of harmony.
This softness, nurtured by a mother’s love, had not vanished when she became a Lord Ravager.
It had merely been buried deeper.
Now, witnessing this real and heavy suffering, it broke through the surface.
Almost unconsciously, she took a few steps forward, closer to the noisy, weary docks.
Welt Yang frowned slightly but did not stop her.
He simply kept a more vigilant watch on their surroundings, while also observing Mercy’s actions.
He wondered what this Lord Ravager was planning.
Mercy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if recalling something, as if gathering herself.
Then, softly, she began to hum in a voice that was ethereal and warm.
It was not in any language she knew.
It felt more like an instinctive chant flowing from her bloodline, from her very soul.
The melody was ancient and melodious, carrying a soothing power, like a clear mountain stream quietly flowing through the noisy dock.
At first, the faint song was almost drowned out by the roar of machinery and the laborers’ heavy breathing.
But gradually, something strange began to happen.
The workers closest to Mercy felt the change first.
Their legs, which had felt as heavy as lead, seemed to be infused with a warm current, growing lighter.
Their burning throats and aching arms felt as if they had been cooled by a clear spring, their exhaustion noticeably receding.
Their spirits, nearly crushed by the weight of their labor, seemed to be gently lifted by a tender hand, gathering a new sliver of strength.
They looked up in surprise, searching for the source of this strange change.
Then they saw her, the blue-haired girl standing not far away, eyes closed, humming softly.
A faint, barely perceptible halo seemed to surround her.
The pair of pure white wing-like halos behind her head trembled slightly with the song, radiating an aura of peace.
The song spread outward like ripples.
More and more workers stopped in their tracks.
They felt a long-lost surge of strength and renewed spirit rising within them.
The numbness in their eyes began to fade, replaced by a glimmer of light.
Their heavy breathing grew steadier.
Even their movements became more coordinated and powerful as they carried their loads.
The oppressive, weary atmosphere of the dock shifted subtly, gaining a sense of harmony and cohesion that was hard to put into words.
They exchanged glances, not fully understanding what was happening, but their faces showed a mixture of confusion and gratitude.
Their gazes converged on the singing girl.
Behind Mercy, Welt’s inner shock was beyond words.
He felt it clearly.
The power in that song was not the violence of Destruction, but the power of the Path of Harmony.
That unique wave that could coordinate individuals, strengthen collectives, and soothe the soul.
A Lord Ravager, wielding the power of Harmony?
It was an absurd sight that seemed to overturn the very laws of the universe.
How could two almost opposing Paths, Destruction and Harmony, exist in one person?
A name buried deep in the Interastral Peace Corporation’s classified archives suddenly flashed through Welt’s mind.
Celenova.
That mysterious, rarely-seen female Lord Ravager of unknown power.
There were vague, unsubstantiated rumors that Celenova’s power seemed different from the pure destruction of other Lord Ravagers, possessing some kind of…
“coordinating” trait.
But this had always been dismissed as nonsense.
Could it be…
that this seemingly harmless girl (if one ignored her stuck-in-the-smokestack incident and near-planetary destruction), who even felt compassion for dock workers, was somehow connected to Celenova?!
Welt gripped his cane tightly, his gaze behind his glasses growing deep and grave.
Mercy’s identity seemed far more complex and astonishing than he had imagined.
The song gradually faded.
Mercy opened her eyes.
Before her were the grateful and puzzled gazes of the dock workers, and their noticeably lighter, more coordinated movements.
She was also a little surprised.
She had only followed her heart’s impulse, and the effect had been so pronounced.
Was this the combination of her Halovian bloodline and the power of Harmony?
She turned around and met Welt’s unreadable gaze.
“I…” Mercy opened her mouth to explain, but didn’t know where to begin.
Welt was silent for a moment.
Finally, he adjusted his glasses, and his tone returned to its usual calm, though with a hint of barely noticeable scrutiny.
“…Let’s finish the procurement first.
Our ‘new warehouse’ is still empty.” He paused, then added, his voice low, almost as if speaking to himself, but loud enough for Mercy to hear: “It seems…
our warehouse can hold more than we imagined.” Not just supplies.
But secrets.
And possibilities.
Mercy nodded.
She cast one last glance at the workers, who had briefly gained a moment of respite because of her, then turned and followed Welt.
The dark-gold core of Destruction rotated silently within her, but a sliver of light from the Harmony had quietly kindled deep in her soul.