Nobita's Time Heist

Jin Guo stopped walking.

As soon as he stopped, the massive, somewhat bloated procession also halted. A group of nobles in brocade robes stood in the corridor, each with a different expression, each harboring their own calculations. Having spent his entire life navigating the treacherous waters of officialdom, Jin Guo naturally understood that these people intended to use him as a pawn to carry out the unfinished palace coup. What they said was indeed reasonable; Snemis's side had never been so lacking in fighting power as it was now. Two thousand men, armed and charging in, would be absolutely impossible for Jing Lu to stop alone.

The question is, what happens after you succeed?

Having acquired a city, he eliminated his political rival Snemis, the only one capable of managing wartime logistics. Then... when the Silver Swordsman and Jatos return, what will become of him? Will he, in a fit of rage, cut off his own head and use it as a football?

“We can take Jinglu and the entire city hostage and only execute Snemis,” another nobleman suggested. “Even if we break off relations, as long as Jinglu is in our hands, he won’t dare to make any rash moves. When the time is right, we can announce to the citizens that this Silver Swordsman is an imposter. Those fools outside are too stupid; they will believe whatever we say.”

"That's just how the world is. Only the victors are remembered, while the losers... no matter what kind of mud is thrown at them, they just have to suffer."

"No matter what, Lord Golden Fruit, you must make a decision quickly!"

……

Tick-tock, tick-tock, time keeps passing by.

Jin Guo was the most senior member of this group, and he knew full well that what they said was true. To stage a coup d'état of supreme power, three conditions had to be met: a smiling face, ruthless action, and thorough preparation. Now, the Silver Swordsman was wary of him; a smiling face was no longer effective, and there was little to prepare. Judging from the circumstances, the optimal time to act had passed. If he had to proceed, only ruthless action remained.

We must be ruthless, absolutely ruthless.

He turned his head, looking at the room with a fanatical intensity. Perhaps by now, that young man named Tekkaski had quickly sorted out the situation and was preparing to attack them. Perhaps, even after the Silver Swordsman returned, they still wouldn't be able to escape their fate and face retribution. Perhaps…

Too many possibilities flashed before his eyes, and he bit his dry lips, almost giving an order.

Until he saw the steel Mustang lying in front of the library door.

It is said to be the mount of the Silver Swordsman, its body made of steel, impervious to blades and spears, and it gallops across the battlefield like lightning. Intelligence intercepted from the front lines revealed that many soldiers witnessed its power—it gallops like a meteor, rampaging and crashing, its body spewing forth wind and thunder, unstoppable by anyone.

The iron horse lay there quietly, without making a sound, like an unconscious, dead object.

“…Ah!” In that instant, a trace of lingering fear flashed in Jin Guo’s eyes. He suddenly realized that he actually knew nothing about the Silver Swordsman’s abilities.

Can such an opponent really be threatened?

"This matter... let's discuss it again later..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"spear--!!"

Jatos shouted, and immediately a servant came running up to him with a spear as long as two men. He lowered himself slightly, scooped it up with one hand, and spurred his horse forward, the steed neighing and leaping out of the trench, carrying the warrior on a spirited run-up. As the horseshoes struck the ground, Jatos regulated his breathing, and with only the strength of one arm, he lifted the spear steadily, keeping his upper body still, assuming the throwing stance of a javelin thrower.

The helmet would obstruct his vision, so he removed it before mounting the horse, letting the wind lash his forehead.

wind.

direction.

speed.

Everything was exactly as calculated.

"what--!!"

With a powerful thrust of his arm and a twist of his body, using the speed of his warhorse, he hurled the spear! The spear trembled in the air, piercing the wing of one of the two-legged wyverns, causing it to let out a mournful cry and spray a spray of blood through the air. Like a shot-down bird, it streaked across the ground, leaving a trail of dragon blood.

"Alright, lads... you all saw that, right? There's nothing to be afraid of! They're made of flesh and blood too. As long as you find the right method, killing them is as easy as killing chickens!" Having accomplished the feat of slaying a dragon single-handedly, Jatos drew his longsword from its sheath and raised it high above his head. "You were brought out by me, and I will bring you back safely!"

"Charge!!"

It must be said, witnessing this scene on the front lines was incredibly inspiring. Jatos had done everything he could, single-handedly slaying a wyvern and boosting his side's morale to its peak. Encouraged by this, the new recruits who had come to build fortifications also mustered their courage and charged out.

But he knew very well that most of these young men would be left here forever in the face of the surging tide of half-dragons.

He was powerless to do anything about it.

"God, does such a thing truly exist in this world?"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"【Restored Ray】————!!"

A beam of light descended from the clouds and shone upon the half-dragon.

Amidst their painful howls, their scales fell off one by one.

Chapter 410: Greatness needs no words

"what……"

Jatos stared at the scene before him, his limited vocabulary once again being challenged. He had naturally heard that these terrifying half-dragons were transformed by the Scarlet God in some way, but they had long since lost their human appearance and cognition, becoming nothing more than pure killing machines.

On a real battlefield, even a moment's hesitation when facing a half-dragon can have irreversible consequences. Their claws and teeth are no joke; a single hit will essentially render the target incapacitated.

Long years of fighting had extinguished his empathy, so much so that when these half-dragons bathed in beams of light roared in pain, writhed, and shed their scales, he felt a startled unease.

It's like a race that was originally inhuman suddenly becoming human...that feeling.

"Lord Jatos, that is..."

The soldiers pointed to the sky, dumbfounded, as if they had seen something completely incomprehensible. The warrior, clad in silver robes, could somehow move freely through the air, and the wyverns were like lame horses, unable to keep up with him at all. He could also draw his sword and fight them while sweeping the ground with that magical light source.

"Entanglement" might not be the most accurate description; a flash of silver light was all it took for him to slice through the dragon's body with his sword, emerging from the other side as easily as cutting a birthday cake. The creatures attempted to attack with fireballs, but the fireballs, upon striking the silver armor, melted and vanished as if made of snowflakes. In moments, the dragon scourge in the sky was cleared. The remaining few bipedal dragons, realizing the situation, tucked their tails between their legs and fled from the airspace.

“That sword is…” Jatos narrowed his eyes, staring at the divine sword in Nobita’s hand, a sword that could cut through iron like mud and seemed to be constructed of silver light, and murmured, “No, how is it possible… A mythical figure from five hundred years ago, actually…”

Despite his efforts to convince himself, he still respectfully dismounted to greet Da Xiong when he landed from the sky.

"Just as I expected, only half-dragons can be restored to humans. Those dragons were probably created by her using some strange species." Da Xiong put the restoration ray back into his pocket and looked at the people lying on the ground, naked and in pain as if they were drowning. His eyes showed pity. "From human to dragon, and then from dragon back to human, this process must not have been easy."

"You...you really are..."

"Yes, that's right, Gian." Nobita nodded and gave him a friendly smile. "I'm back."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Hiss...wait a minute, I'm still a little out of it." Snemis hadn't expected that just one nap would lead to such a complete reversal of events. He instinctively reached for the pipe he always carried in his pocket, only to realize that Nobita had already taken it. He could only smile wryly, "Before I passed out, I was facing internal and external troubles and didn't know what to do. And now, all the problems are solved. This is really..."

I thought about it again and again, but I still couldn't bring myself to say the word "unbelievable".

"The fact that half-dragons can turn back into humans is good news for us. Whether it's for city defense or offense, we need to recruit soldiers from the populace, so the more the better. But... the city's food reserves are only so limited. With more people, there are more mouths to feed, which is a problem we can't avoid."

“As for this, Snemis, you’ll see for yourself.” Tekasky wrote down the newly added refugee numbers on a piece of paper and said with a smile, “Our Silver Swordsman is not just a brute who only knows how to swing a sword.”

……

Silver Swordsman.

Snemis's impression of him was simply that of the guy who rushed into his room just before he was about to die and forced him to drink a bottle of tranquilizers. He looked somewhat familiar, seemed to be a slow-paced person, and Snemis thought he had dreamed of him before, but that was a very, very long time ago.

To be honest, he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. Kingo Izganda was a formidable opponent; even until the moment he lost consciousness, he was still at a disadvantage in their covert battle. Because he was in the open, while Kingo was in the shadows, he had a hundred ways to discard him after he had served his purpose, while he could only silently endure it, unable to resist. Snemis had mentally prepared himself—no matter how this war ended, he would most likely die in the reckoning; he only hoped to do what needed to be done before he breathed his last. At most, he could hope that Jatos, who held military power, would return and avenge him.

To minimize the chances of Jin Guo, he locked himself in the Great Archives, reducing all contact with the outside world.

But... at this moment, having merely slept for ten hours in the Great Archives, he stepped out again and became the victor of this battle. Those nobles who had previously sneered at him and mocked him for being merely a "viscount" now bowed their heads in silence and quickly walked past him.

Kinggo himself wisely adopted the demeanor befitting a loser, closing his doors to visitors, handing over the command of all his private troops to Snemis, and declaring that from now on, he would have the final say in everything within the capital. He also claimed to be old, deaf, and senile, and feigned illness to stay home, hoping only for a safe landing.

A person.

The appearance of just one person completely severed the treacherous undercurrents within the city.

"Silver Swordsman, Nobinia,..."

The sunlight outside was so bright it was almost blinding. Snemis squinted, looking at the statue that stood directly in front of the kingdom. Despite enduring wind, frost, rain, and snow, it still stood—the very image of the Silver Swordsman drawing his sword and pointing it at the rising sun. It had stood on the main road leading to the palace for five hundred years, so much so that most people took it for granted and never gave it a second thought.

Will he once again save this kingdom from the brink of collapse?

……

Upon entering the palace and seeing the rice growing in the magnificent halls, Snemis was astonished, as if witnessing a divine miracle.

Vast expanses of golden rice paddies stretched as far as the eye could see, growing from marble tiles that should have been devoid of life, their grains plump and full. He couldn't believe it was real. He reached out to touch them, completely overwhelmed by their heavy weight, and unconsciously burst out laughing.

Compared to the golden palace, this golden rice field is far more beautiful.

"Ha...enough...enough! That's enough!" Snemis was overjoyed, letting out a long breath, almost bursting into tears. "So much rice, once husked and stored, is enough for both rations and military supplies!"

"Hey! Suneo—" In a rice paddy not far away, Nobita was harvesting rice with other people. When he saw an acquaintance, he waved his hands happily and called out to him from afar.

At this moment, he was no longer clad in silver armor and robes, and the silver sword he held in his hand was no longer the one that commanded respect across the world, but an ordinary sickle. In his right hand, he held a handful of freshly harvested golden rice ears. Da Xiong's feet were soaked in mud, and his face was covered in grime mixed with sweat, making him look filthy.

But Snemis felt that he was far more handsome now than the statue he had seen when he entered.

"What an amazing person!" he exclaimed from the bottom of his heart.

Chapter 411: My Watch Ends Here

"This is a fast-growing rice variety from the [Fun Farm Combo]. Simply put, it's an improved variety that can be planted and grown quickly. Its advantage is that it's plentiful and filling, satisfying the needs of most people. As for the disadvantages... well, I haven't seen any yet."

It is said that "with grain in hand, one has no fear in mind." With enough grain, Snimis stood tall and looked around as he spoke, as if he was ready to confront anyone who disagreed with him.

Of course, given the current situation, no one will give him that chance...

"The newly admitted people still have some PTSD about going to the battlefield, so let's arrange for them to grow these rice crops for now. Providing a stable food supply for the front lines is also a contribution."

"Speaking of which, thanks to these extra manpower, the defensive fortifications outside the city walls are almost complete. The next step is to have the soldiers stationed there, and we must gradually expand the defensive line outwards. Only in this way can we gain more initiative in the next attack."

……

The council chamber was shrunk to almost nothing, consisting only of Snimis and his cronies. Just like in Civilization VI, food directly affected population, and population directly impacted productivity. With Nobita's seemingly insanely continuous food production, the Last City possessed near-infinite productivity. Forget about external fortifications; as long as there was enough food, what did it matter if the walls were completely renovated inside and out?

Everyone was discussing excitedly, as if all the problems had been solved. Da Xiong didn't try to dampen their spirits; he just sat aside and listened with a smile as they reported their good news one by one.

These days of being besieged by the enemy have been so difficult and depressing that even the slightest glimmer of hope is worth celebrating.

However, just as Nobita had predicted, the only one who remained sober did not fall into the frenzied celebration.

"Gentlemen, I apologize for interrupting you, but the essence of the problem remains unresolved," Tekaski said in a deep voice. "Even if we build thicker walls and strengthen our defenses, it will only provide temporary relief. The Kingdom of Lumilia is still under siege, and we are like a tortoise, retreating into its increasingly hard shell. The natural disasters have merely left on their own; to return to our former lives, high walls and deep fortifications are not enough."

“As long as the Scarlet Goddess exists, her curse will not end. In the entire Kingdom of Lumilia, there will still be more dragons than humans. Our living space will be compressed to the limit. Even if we suppress the conflicts for now, one day, this capital city will not be able to accommodate so many people. At that time, it will trigger the next phase of riots.”

"All our efforts will be in vain!"

A few words were met with silence from the crowd.

Lies don't hurt, truth is the knife.

Fortunately, everyone here is on their side, so they aren't too devastated by the truth. The fact is, their small victories are utterly insignificant compared to the bigger picture. At most, they've managed to keep things afloat.

"So, should we organize an expedition?" Jatos sighed, as if something was choking him, leaving him listless. "Given the current situation, drawing top fighters from the army would be a huge blow to our strength. We're already lucky to have wiped out the surrounding dragon scourge. The Crimson God doesn't need to come out; he can stay in Andrew City in the central region..."

"Wait a minute?" Nobita seemed to have heard something unbelievable. "You guys have always known where Scarlet God is?"

He had fought in several modern wars, and in modern warfare, knowing each other's base coordinates was an incredible thing. But then he remembered that this was a world without long-range firepower; it was impossible for someone to sit at home and have a missile fly in from the sky. To take down the Crimson Goddess, he would have to organize an army to subdue her. Along the way, even eating horse tails would require logistics, and once they actually arrived, humanity's basic tactics would be completely ineffective against her.

Thinking about it this way, the suspicious looks on everyone's faces became understandable.

“Okay, what I mean is, tell me the location of that city of Andrew…” Da Xiong gripped the hilt of the silver sword, took a deep breath, and a resolute glint flashed in his eyes. “It’s time to settle things with her.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The city of Andrew was deathly silent; not a sound of life could be heard. The castle stood tall beneath the dark, heavy clouds. The scales of reptiles hissed against the city's buildings, like snakes flicking their tongues. Dragons circled overhead, their wings slicing through the air with a constant, sharp whistling sound, like the urgent whistling of pigeons, bringing an indescribable sense of oppression.

All living beings that can breathe have been transformed into the same kind as the Scarlet Goddess, serving as her eyes and ears.

This ancient castle, once built for nobles, has now been effortlessly taken over by her. In a dark room, the girl's eyes suddenly opened, and in the darkness, a faint pinkish glow flickered, like two clusters of fire.

“After we’ve dragged the whole world into our plan, he’s finally come along. Congratulations, congratulations.” Jaqen Helma, a man who was now somewhat unfamiliar to her, leaned against the cold brick wall in a rather stylish pose and applauded her. “You finally have the chance to personally grind him to dust. How does it feel?”

"..." The girl's head tilted at an inhuman angle, making a crisp sound like celery being snapped. Soon, it had twisted nearly 270 degrees, staring at him from a strange angle.

Is it... over?

“Ah, we came together because of mutual benefit. Now that we’ve used each other to achieve our goals, it’s time to part ways.” Jia Kun stretched and looked up at the honey-colored sky, saying leisurely, “I’ll probably watch you eat him alive before I leave.”

What exactly do you want?

The girl's tone was somewhat stiff; even at this moment, she still couldn't fully grasp Jaqen's motives. "The end of the world?"

"Well, how should I put it... that's just a byproduct. The destruction of the phenomenal world represents the rebirth of the spiritual world. Disrupting the established timeline, triggering a sufficiently large and disruptive spacetime turbulence, and then spreading spirituality throughout the world—you see, how selfless I am." Jia Kun's laughter contained a hint of self-deprecation, but it couldn't hide his madness.

"Spirit, nature?"

"When do you think is the best time to plant a tree?"

"..." The girl had never planted a tree before, nor did she understand the profound meaning behind this question.

“The best time was ten years ago. The second best time is now.” Jia Kun’s tone was uncertain, and he muttered with his eyes half-closed, “The saplings I planted in the past have all been uprooted by him, not a single one is left.”

"But the sapling I plant 'now' is destined to grow into a towering tree, until it shades out the entire sky!"

He opened his arms as if to embrace that dreamlike spiritual world.

"At that time, the spiritual tide will fill every corner of the world, and my watch will remain..."

"And so it ends."