(Planet Nemo, Ten Days Later)
Ten days passed in the blink of an eye on Planet Nemo, as finally the Cult engineers managed to set up and deploy the planetary shield, its translucent do of light shimring faintly across the skies like a second horizon.
With the shield’s activation ca the assurance that Nemo was no longer a vulnerable husk, but a fortified world— a bastion against the Yu Clan or any other predator bold enough to covet it.
The defensive installations followed swiftly, for the Cult wasted no ti in making certain that their victory was not a fleeting one.
Rows of mana cannons were erected upon the ridges, their cores humming with restrained energy as engineers calibrated the flow of circuits, while batteries of surface-to-air missiles were dug into camouflaged pits, their warheads gleaming faintly under the glow of maintenance spells.
Turrets were fixed into place along the key arteries of the military bases, each one capable of tearing through enemy frigates or destroyer ships attempting atmospheric breach, while fresh foundations were already being poured for bunkers, fortresses, and observation towers that would, in ti, weave Nemo into the sa iron web that now shielded the Cult’s other core holdings.
It was a sight that brought a asure of relief to the weary Dragon Army, for each bolt locked into place, each shield rune carved into steel, was proof that their sacrifices had not been wasted, that Nemo would stand defended long after the last pyre of their comrades had burned cold.
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Beyond stone and steel, the negotiations with the Yu Clan had also reached their conclusion, though they were no less brutal in their own way.
The prisoners of war, seven million in number, had been paraded, counted, and bargained over like currency, until finally a price was fixed at three thousand MP per head.
It was a sum that stung the pride of the Yu but not enough for them to abandon their kin, and it was a sum that poured like liquid gold into the coffers of the Cult, enough to not only replenish the losses of battle but to bankroll the expansion of the Dragon Army for campaigns yet to co.
Among the camps, the soldiers who had fought in the trenches whispered at the settlent figure, their voices caught between disbelief and awe— for they realized that their desperate defense had not only saved their own lives but had delivered their faction one of the richest single gains in living mory.
What had begun as a bloody gamble had ended in triumph, and though the Yu Clan would certainly plot revenge, for now the Cult had extracted every possible ounce of profit from their failure.
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Finally, inside the rich mana veins of Nemo, the extraction of mana crystals had begun once more, for the mana mines long abandoned during the chaos of planetary conquest were reopened, their sealed shafts echoing again with the sound of picks, drills, and spellwork.
Leo, in a stroke of brilliant negotiation, understood that the Cult needed to enlist the help of the Planet Nemo locals to run and maintain the mining equipnt for now, and hence, instead of antagonizing them, he struck a deal with them instead.
Ten percent of all revenue generated was promised to the locals, which signalled a 4 percent increase from the six percent granted to them under the Su Regi.
To so, it seed laughable— after all what was four percent against the pride of their ancestry? And their deep rooted hatred for the Evil Cult?
Yet for many of Nemo’s workers, that sliver was enough to make the difference between sustenance and abundance, as the allure of monetary gains was too large to just walk away.
Not all accepted, of course, for bitterness against the Cult ran deep, and for such people, Leo kept the doors to exit the planet open, as he offered them no resistance if they wanted to leave.
However, they could not take any resource wealth of the planet away with them and had to leave without a single spatial storage artifact on themselves.
Of-course, with the planet currently sealed off, they could not leave imdiately, however, once shuttle services resud, they were free to leave, to seek new hos in other Su-controlled territories, or to live rootless among the stars.
But for those who stayed, life had already begun to normalize under the new Cult banner— and amongst them the perception of the Cult had already begun to change, as they saw their new rulers not as marauding fiends the universe painted them to be, but rulers that were no harsher than the ones who had fled.
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Thus, in the span of ten short days, Nemo had transford from a battlefield drenched in smoke and blood into a fortress of steel and order, its mines breathing again, its skies shielded, its streets crawling with the machinery of construction.
The scars of war remained etched upon its soil, but already the seeds of permanence had been sown, for the Dragon Army did not co as scavengers who struck and left— they ca to hold, to fortify, and to turn a captured husk into the cornerstone of a growing empire.
For the Cult, the victory of Planet Nemo was an extrely important strategic milestone, as it solved for them the imnse mana crystal shortage that it currently faced.
The veins of Nemo were deep and abundant, and though their yield would not rival the richest cores of the Great Clans, they were steady and pure, and in ti that steadiness was sure to ripple across the entire Cult.
Factories that once rationed their mana output could now run longer shifts, artisans could attempt higher-grade enchantnts without fear of shortages, and the Dragon Army itself could train recruits with fewer constraints, their ships and carriers no longer needing to ration core fuel.
Slowly but surely, the energy of Nemo would not only sustain the Cult, but uplift its industry, its soldiers, and its people, making the victory here echo across every world that bore their banner.
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