"We've already sent the Sea Beast No. 2 War Platform along the route it left behind to search for it. But the only route information it left us covered the Maitreya Sea. We have no way of knowing what lies in deeper waters. They're a dark, unknown region—the edge of the world, forever beyond our reach."
A Tidal Elf murmured.
Each Tidal Elf was so tiny. From an insect's perspective, even humans were enormous creatures they could never hope to resist, let alone the Deep Sea Giants in the nearly boundless ocean, or the endless sea that had given birth to them.
It seemed they would never be able to explore the so-called edge of the world.
"It's been so long. Even at a normal rate of energy consumption, Sea Beast No. 3 must be close to running out of power. I'm afraid there's no hope for them."
A Tidal Elf sighed.
It was pessimistic, but its pessimism was based on rational analysis. This was the possibility most likely to be true.
Although the Tidal Civilization had never suffered the disaster of a Sea Beast-class combat platform crashing, let alone witnessed one, it only took a little logical thought to realize that such a platform wasn't indestructible.
A pessimism innate to the Tidal Elves began to spread.
Compared with the food chain of this world, they were simply too fragile, too small, too limited. They were like seedlings born in a greenhouse.
"Yes. The odds of Sea Beast No. 2 surviving are far too slim. We should draw up a plan as quickly as possible and build a third Sea Beast-class combat platform as soon as we can. We must get all three platforms operating again to ensure Ningjing Bay's safety. We stake our honor on this—we must never let