Chapter 216: History of Aerospace Development on Ceylon
Chapter 216: History of Aerospace Development on Ceylon
About a hundred years ago, Ceylon Planet saw its first steam engine built. That was also when the “World Vortex” reversed for the second time, shifting history from ancient eras into the modern age.
Unlike slow Earth, the steam engine immediately caught the attention of monarchs across major nations. In just ten years, a steam-powered storm swept across the Central Continent. With the primitive steam engine undergoing several revolutions, the entire planet entered industrial civilization.
The reason steam technology advanced so explosively on Ceylon Planet was entirely due to the World Vortex’ reversal. Before the great Vortex reversed, the planet’s elemental forces were extremely weak, making it an age of magic decline.
Back then, ancient deities had either fallen, slept, or remained confined to their divine domains, unable to affect the Mortal World. Monsters lurking deep in ancient forests, like the deities, were weakened. They had just enough strength for self-preservation and kept a low profile, rarely causing trouble openly or seeking certain death. Ability Users, while immensely stronger than ordinary people, were few in number. Though they held high status, they couldn’t steer the course of events. As for ancient races like Elves and Dwarves, they were as common as humans, rarely producing Ability Users. That era belonged to human kingdoms.
When the World Vortex began to reverse, energy elements gradually increased. Old Gods awakened, new gods were born, other races regained their ancient powers, monster populations in the mountains exploded, and more Ability Users refused to obey. The status of mortal empires became precarious. To bridge the gap with supernatural beings, mortals had only one path: mastering the power called “science.”
To maintain their status, mortals embraced science, starting with the steam engine. Gunpowder bombs, firearms, and missiles were invented one after another. Thus began the era of rebellion when mortals could gun down Ability Users, and armies could bombard mages.
Sadly, the golden age didn’t last. Could Ability Users not master the same technology? No one was foolish enough to ignore it—Ability Users with beneficial brain mutations were smarter than average people. Though already powerful, they never hesitated to arm themselves with even more advanced equipment.
Thus, more violent and cruel inventions followed: mana-powered guns, magic cannons, magic-powered airships, and others created by Ability Users.
Just as humans built steam mechas to counter supernatural beings, magic-powered mechas were born!
After several shifts in the continent’s political landscape, it moved out of agricultural civilization into the industrial age. Ancient empires fell, replaced by republics and federations. An age of equality arrived, where Ability Users used technology to kick out emperors and rise to the top.
Then, whole scientific systems blossomed: physical alchemy, chemical alchemy, necromancy biology, and more. Anything Earth had developed appeared on Ceylon. But, influenced by its ancient magical civilization, Ceylon’s “tech tree” veered wildly off course—physics, chemistry, and biology all twisted into bizarre “black technology.”
Watered by the super “Golden Kela” fermented over ten thousand magical years, this crooked tech tree grew explosively like the Yellow River flooding its banks.
About thirty years ago, the world’s first crude rocket took off, carrying a battered magic satellite into space. Humanity entered the space age—an era where reaching space required no mountain climb, only human effort!
Due to different cultural foundations, Ceylon’s satellites differed greatly from Earth’s. Crucially, they had no electronic communication systems—no computers! These flying chunks of metal couldn’t monitor the ground or enable satellite communication. Though the Observation Tower’s “Starlight” could relay signals globally, Ceylon lacked anything like computers! Though Bio-brains matched computer power and could decode Starlight signals, these high-end items could never become widespread. They were too rare, controlled only by major powers.
A certain joker in the Zero Ring once proposed a discarded plan: mass-produce low-level Bio-brains until every household had “a small brain floating in a fish tank!” Once every home had one, each neighborhood could install a “medium-sized brain in an aquarium,” each district a “giant brain in a shipping container,” and each city a “super-brain in a water cube.” Then, link the nation, the continent, the whole world together into a rival to the “Starlight Network”: a global “Bio-brainwave Network” that covered the planet. Let these disgusting brains infest every corner!
Never mind the astronomical cost—just imagine cute elementary schoolchildren needing to carry jars of creepy pulsating brains, then connect brain tendrils to their nervous systems to enter virtual classrooms. The thought gave mortal parents constant goosebumps. What kind of sick nightmare vision was that? Naturally, the plan got scrapped.
Yet Sizar felt it was a pity! He’d once firmly believed becoming a Necromancer held immense promise. Just cracking skulls open, scooping out brains, and making shoddy “jarred brains” could make him rich. Package them in purple crystal bottles, and he’d make a killing—easily a multi-millionaire! He’d even thought of the ad slogan: “No gifts this festival! No gifts! If gifting, only give ‘Brain Crystals’!”
Ahem, digressing! All this proves the two worlds’ cultures differed, so their developmental paths naturally diverged. With electricity undeveloped, Ceylon had no computers or networks—making satellites kind of pointless. But humans back then didn’t know. They just thought blasting things into space was insanely cool!
Scientific research is directionless until countless failed attempts uncover the right path. That’s why truly bizarre inventions always pop up during discovery.
Way back after the first satellite launched, scientists everywhere were euphoric! In ancient times, the stars were unreachable; everyone dreamed of ascending. Reality was cold: neither mortals nor flying Ability Users easily pierced the atmosphere into space. The sole accessible spot—Spiral Mountain—belonged entirely to the Observation Tower. Designated a forbidden zone, only a select few might ever approach it.
Looking back, the Observation Tower remained powerful yet secretive, always barring the mountaintop. Nobody knew what lay beyond. People assumed the Tower guarded access because it harvested extraterrestrial secrets for itself.
When rockets became reality, major groups, nations—everyone started developing satellites to grab cosmic advantages. Thus began the roaring space age: satellites of every make, model, and function kept launching skyward from every faction.
What rewards did they get? Who knew. But if everyone jumped on the bandwagon, why not join? So even the Observation Tower began tossing satellites into orbit from the mountaintop.
Statistics showed: within ten years, the Ceylon Continent launched over a hundred seventy satellites—counting those thrown by the Tower!
This frenzy lasted until a decade ago—when people finally realized: space is vast, satellites are tiny, too many glitches plague them, our tech is too primitive, and all the money brought nothing close to expected returns.
The world is huge—why stare at dead space? Even dull places like the Underworld could develop afterlife real estate! Urged by shady conglomerates, a new “Underworld property boom” began! Wealthy folk bought postmortem villas; even the poor wanted apartments—so if their soul survived death, they wouldn’t drift homeless.
“Lead the pack: dominate everywhere! Being a ghost starts with property!” went a Central Territory Netherworld ad. Sadly, the North Netherworld was too chaotic to seize the moment.
Ahem, drifting again! Gradually, enthusiasm for space cooled. The cosmic junk? Let it float till we’re inspired to fund new wealth-seeking projects?
While others lost interest in space, the Observation Tower never did. Since antiquity perched at Spiral Mountain’s peak, they knew the stars longer than anybody. Now satellites opened countless possibilities—innumerable experiments to run, secrets to uncover.
But now near-Earth orbit was clogged with metal hunks hurled by every nation, mega-corp, and faction, blocking vital paths! Though tempted, the Tower hesitated to simply blow them away with magic cannons—they were strictly neutral. What to do?
The Tower now hosted over fifty satellites; the remaining hundred fifty-plus belonged to others. Of those, only a few still operated: The Zero Ring and other biotech companies experimented with space farming and orbital vegetable growth; groups like the Original Sin Syndicate and Super High Pressure tested privately developed space weapons; deities hoping to stay trendy spent fortunes launching satellites that periodically flung alloy autobiographies into outer space. Most satellites, however, were idle—some barely maintained, most dormant, many outright derelict.
Seeing this waste pained the Tower. So the Continental Space Agency formed! All satellite owners—organizations or individuals—were invited. The agency goal: “Maximize satellite utilization and profits for everyone!” They didn’t care about the first half. The second won unanimous support! After years of debate, the Star Network Project took shape!
The Observation Tower turned its Spiral Mountain base into a space station and hub—connecting to satellites, resupplying them, and cutting needless costs. Simultaneously, it redesigned the orbits of all two-hundred-plus satellites. Thus emerged a new, collision-free network squeezing every asset dry—running experiments aimed mostly at profits, science second.
Before this project, satellites had to plunge homewards to reload equipment, then relaunch—a massive drain. Now they docked directly at Spiral Mountain for quick repairs, then returned to orbit.
With the Tower onboard, even dormant or dead satellites revived. But that was just Stage One. Star Network hosted countless co-op ventures—joint super-projects spanning multiple factions thought impossible before, since each group clung to its territory without crossing others.
Today was different! Profit united them. Previously unthinkable schemes got tabled. Multiple groups pooled expertise, shared tech, overcame bottlenecks, then tackled mission after mission once labeled impossible.