Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas
Chapter 60: Ch 60 William-2

Chapter 60: Ch 60 William-2

But it wasn’t a joke. It was real. It was the truth.

While some remained skeptical, they all believed it—because the source was undeniably reliable. Anything presented before the Federation Council was first verified by the Goddess of Wisdom herself. So, as unbelievable as it seemed, they accepted it as truth.

After all, for many—if not all—it had always been a given that the destructive power of Divine Pilots surpassed everything else. Not even the Federation’s dreadnought-grade warships or their colossal cannons were considered equal.

And yet... here they were. Watching undeniable evidence that a single warship had demonstrated power clearly greater than that of even Divine Pilots—at least in terms of raw destructive capability.

So yes, their skepticism had been justified. Because what they were witnessing wasn’t just a powerful ship.

It was as if reality itself was shifting.

And they weren’t the only ones shaken to their very core.

The Divine Pilots—those considered the pinnacle of destructive power in the galaxy—glanced at one another, their eyes slightly widened in surprise. The footage had struck a nerve. If the Federation ever got its hands on the technology behind that warship, their own relevance could be called into question.

Despite this troubling thought, none of them voiced concern or challenged the Goddess. Instead, they waited in tense silence, their expressions solemn, letting the discussion unfold.

They knew they couldn’t interfere directly—nor would they do so indirectly—but deep down, each of them silently hoped the Goddess wouldn’t forget them. Nor should she attempt to crush their relevance to humanity in any form.

Though they were concerned, they were also somewhat relieved—for while adapting a ship like that might indirectly harm them in the long term, in the short term, it would benefit them in more than one way.

The Celestial Designers, meanwhile, were no different in their shock—but their reaction diverged in one clear way: they were excited. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.

They were already envisioning the possibilities—of studying this ship, reverse-engineering every component, uncovering the secrets behind its staggering destructive capability. To them, it was a treasure trove of knowledge waiting to be unlocked.

Even the Grand Admirals were not immune to the ship’s impact. If anything, they were the most visibly thrilled.

After watching the footage, something within them stirred—a spark of understanding, of ambition. They kept their thoughts to themselves for now, refusing to jump to conclusions, but it was clear: something had begun to click.

And they knew, in just a few more minutes, everything would be made absolutely clear.

And indeed, John continued once the video had ended and the chamber had finally settled down.

"After the battle," he said, his voice steady, "Admiral Kevin managed to speak directly with the man who commands the dreadnought—the ship he calls Ragnarök."

He paused, turning slightly to glance at one of the Divine Pilots.

Estonia.

Estonia.

Her brow lifted at the mention of the ship’s name, surprise flickering in her eyes. After all, her own mech was named Ragnarök as well. She couldn’t help but curl her lips into a small smile and mutter under her breath, "That person is... interesting."

John noticed her reaction and simply shook his head with a faint smirk before continuing.

"The man’s name is William Valehart," he said. "He wasn’t alone. He was accompanied by a woman—identity unknown. She never introduced herself, though Kevin did note in his report that the two seemed... close."

The council leaned forward as John’s voice took on more weight.

"William expressed a desire to become a citizen of our Federation... and requested to join us as—"

He trailed off momentarily, glancing across the chamber as anticipation grew.

"—as a contributor. To show his sincerity, he offered two gifts to the Federation—complete technological blueprints of two different Tier-7 warships. Two entirely distinct classifications."

The moment the words left his mouth, a wave of shocked gasps rippled through the chamber. Several council members almost leapt to their feet in astonishment, their expressions a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and raw ambition.

But John remained composed and pressed on.

"When I later met William in the Nova Star System, I spoke with him personally. I asked questions—many questions. He answered each one clearly, directly. At the end of our conversation, he handed me a full blueprint... including detailed specifications and capabilities of both ships."

He paused for breath.

But what he didn’t realize—what none of them had openly said—was that, by this point, no one was listening to his questions or William’s answers. They were all thinking the same thing.

Two Tier-7 ships. Two complete blueprints. Now in the hands... of Grand Admiral John.

What John didn’t realize was that most in the chamber weren’t truly listening to the details of his conversation with William. Their minds were fixated on one thing: the Tier-7 warships and the full blueprints now in his possession. That fact alone consumed their thoughts.

Still, while they may not have paid attention to all his words, they did listen closely when he began outlining the capabilities of the two Tier-7 ships. And it was during this explanation that a certain phrase stood out—one that sparked both controversy and realization.

According to the performance data, the two Tier-7 warships—though incredibly advanced—were still far outclassed by William’s personal vessel, the Ragnarök. That revelation sent a ripple of conflicting emotions across the room.

Some were disheartened.

Chief among them were the Celestial Designers. They had hoped—desperately—to get their hands on that ship, the Ragnarök itself. But with that hope dashed, their disappointment was clear.

Yet their eyes still gleamed at the mention of the Tier-7 blueprints. In their minds, it was like receiving a treasure trove—two warships, yes, but within them, countless new technologies and breakthroughs to study. It was as if they had paid for two things and received a dozen in return... even though they hadn’t paid at all.

Meanwhile, the ones who felt a wave of relief were the Divine Pilots.

The Federation wouldn’t be mass-producing Ragnarök anytime soon. Their supremacy—at least for now—remained intact. But that relief was short-lived.

For among the eighteen Divine Pilots, an unspoken urgency began to rise. A shared understanding settled in their hearts.

They had to move forward—evolve—or risk being left behind.

Because no matter how divine their titles or how revered they were in human society, the world—or at least the Federation—was bound to change with William becoming one of them, for it was clear that he possessed more than just Tier-7 technologies.

Technology would soon begin to catch up to them—for they had already witnessed one such instance with the ship named Ragnarök, which had already surpassed them.

And if they remained as they were, stagnant and proud, the very concept of divinity that once surrounded them would begin to fade. And with it... so would their importance.

But despite their earlier unease, the Divine Pilots sighed in relief—luck, it seemed, was still on their side.

Ever since arriving in this galaxy, they had felt a subtle but undeniable change. The red particles that permeated this part of space... they weren’t ordinary. They felt almost magical. Slowly, steadily, these particles had been strengthening them—enhancing their power in ways they couldn’t fully explain.

And now, they could sense it clearly: through this red energy, a path forward was beginning to form. If they were right, they might break past their current limits sooner than expected.

So while they remained wary, they were no longer overwhelmed by fear. Not yet.

Meanwhile, a different kind of energy was rising among the rest of the council.

Excitement.

The capabilities of the two Tier-7 warships—now fully in their possession—were staggering. And though the blueprints had been a gift, everyone in the chamber understood the significance.

These weren’t ordinary ships.

They had been given by a man who commanded a vessel powerful enough to surpass even the Divine Pilots—at least, based on the footage they had all just witnessed.

And while the ships were undoubtedly powerful, what truly mattered—perhaps even more than their combat capabilities—was their research value.

By acquiring these blueprints, the Federation wasn’t just gaining access to two Tier-7 warships—technological marvels they couldn’t have developed on their own for decades—but to an entire ecosystem of advanced systems, subsystems, and engineering principles intricately woven into their design.

The benefits extended far beyond the hulls and weapons.

The benefits extended far beyond the hulls and weapons.

If fully studied and reverse-engineered, these vessels could act as a technological catalyst—potentially propelling the Federation toward Tier-7 civilization status within a matter of years, not centuries.

And once those systems were mastered, the Federation wouldn’t be limited to mere replication. No—innovation would follow. Engineers and scientists might find ways to refine, optimize, or even surpass the original designs. A single breakthrough could lead to ten more.

So they wouldn’t stagnate at all with their powers—and with the Celestial Designer at the helm, progress was inevitable, likely to accelerate faster than anyone could have anticipated.