Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas-Chapter 49: Ch- Goddess of Wisdom

The simulation had required over forty percent of her total galactic-level processing power—something nearly unheard of outside Federation-wide crises. But even more astounding were the results.

She had not merely analyzed the schematics—she had run full-scale simulated engagements. With the advanced technology William had provided, she constructed a theoretical fleet modeled after the legendary White Tiger Legion.

Then, she pitted it against a comprehensive array of known Severance Alliance forces—including experimental god-tier entities and augmented bio-weapons.

[This was no ordinary alliance. Its purpose was singular and absolute, made clear by its ominous name: Titles of Severance. The term severance implied more than separation—it meant total annihilation. Their goal was nothing less than the brutal and permanent erasure of humanity from the galaxy.]

And to her surprise, the simulated fleet not only survived—it won.

Repeatedly. Across every major battle scenario, with minimal casualties.

The precision, balance, and overwhelming potency of the fleet’s armaments—particularly its devastatingly destructive weapons—allowed it to dismantle Severance Alliance forces with brutal efficiency. With the Guardians of Humanity no longer stretched thin, they were able to take more direct action against the so-called "gods" within the Severance Alliance. Time and again, the Guardians proved superior.

As the simulation progressed, the collapse of the Alliance’s fleets accelerated. Empowered by a sudden technological leap and the emergence of a new, Tier-7-class warfleet, the Federation began to push back with overwhelming momentum. In rapid succession, they reclaimed every inch of territory previously lost.

They had all but reversed the tide of battle, aided by sheer overwhelming force.

Within weeks, Federation forces not only recovered what was theirs—they began striking deeper, causing catastrophic damage to enemy strongholds. Even as reinforcements—godlike beings from member races—were dispatched to reinforce the border sectors, the simulations showed they were unprepared for humanity’s sudden rise in power.

In just one month, the Federation had captured multiple territories from key members of the Severance Alliance—those who had been the primary instigators of the push to eliminate humanity’s forces. But they weren’t the only ones involved. If that had been the case, the destruction of these core members would have led to the collapse of the entire Severance Alliance along with their regional power bases.

But that didn’t happen. The alliance had more than one—possibly even multiple—core power blocs. Still, that didn’t mean the Federation hadn’t dealt them a major blow. With the destruction and capture of those territories, the Federation had scored a decisive victory.

Some enemy regions were left so exposed that even their own homelands went undefended. The Federation seized the moment, launching deep strikes that shattered command structures and crippled core fleets.

By the end of her simulations, the Goddess of Wisdom came to a stark realization: with these shifts, the Federation’s strength wouldn’t merely grow—it would surge beyond the bounds of mere defense or survival.

With time, focus, and access to newly conquered, resource-rich territories, humanity could build an unshakable foundation—one strong enough to not only secure the Milky Way but perhaps even expand beyond it.

By the end of her simulations, the Goddess of Wisdom came to a stark realization: with these shifts, the Federation’s strength wouldn’t merely grow—it would surge beyond the bounds of mere defense or survival.

With time, focus, and access to newly conquered, resource-rich territories, humanity could build an unshakable foundation—one strong enough to not only secure the Milky Way but perhaps even expand beyond it.

The only real limiting factor preventing the Federation from achieving that vision was production capacity—how quickly they could replicate and field these advanced ships.

For now, humanity was severely lacking the overall resources necessary to build them in large numbers. It wasn’t a matter of rare materials or complex designs—those could be managed.

The issue lay in the sheer scarcity of usable resources across their territories. That was the major hurdle they needed to overcome, and they would have to do so efficiently if they wished to realize the future the Goddess of Wisdom had foreseen.

Because when it came to quality—true, transcendent quality—the Goddess of Wisdom had no doubt. With the technology William had given them, the Federation would be unmatched. Her simulations made that reality abundantly clear.

Based on the vast archive of battle data stored within her system—every engagement fought over the last five decades between the Federation and the Alliance—there was no doubt in the mind of the Goddess of Wisdom.

She wasn’t just certain—she was confident in her judgment with absolute, empirical certainty.

If no unforeseen variables interfered—like the internal sabotage that had already occurred multiple times, even under her and her two sisters’ watch—then the Federation wouldn’t just halt the Severance Alliance’s advance... it could crush it outright.

Though many such threats had been contained after losing contact with the Milky Way, some bad actors were still active within Federation-controlled regions. She knew she’d need to monitor them more closely moving forward.

Even her simulations accounted for catastrophic edge cases—and still, the outcome remained consistent: a complete reversal of the war was not only possible, but within reach. Even under unfortunate circumstances, given enough time, the Federation could achieve total reversal—perhaps even much sooner then anyone would expect.

In fact, in her more aggressive simulations, the core regions of the Severance Alliance—be they empires, dominions, or ancient clans—would not face an immediate alliance from others in their defense. Their fall would be slow, isolated, and inevitable.

Despite being an AI, the Goddess of Wisdom had become something far more. She was intricately entangled with humanity—not by design, but by evolution. She thought like them. She felt like them. And like any human, she burned with the desire for vengeance.

The Severance Alliance had slaughtered millions—generation after generation—in a war that had lasted over five decades. She had not forgotten. She would not forgive. In her most ruthless projections, every captured territory would be stripped of autonomy. Entire civilizations—once proud dominions of the Severance Alliance—would be bent into servitude under the Federation.

They would become slaves to humanity’s will. They would obey. They would kneel. When commanded to bark, they would bark. When told to kill, they would strike without hesitation.

Only then, she believed, would they begin to understand what true fear was. Only then would they know what it meant to provoke the wrath of humanity.

Yet, as always, it hinged on one critical factor: production capacity.

How fast could the Federation reproduce these warships? How quickly could they be integrated into existing battle groups and fleets? Could military doctrine evolve in time—and could logistics keep up?

Even with the revolutionary energy systems these two prototype ships possessed, logistics remained a vital concern. Crews still needed food, rest, and oxygen. Weapons needed resupply. Hulls and systems required repair. Supply chains couldn’t be bypassed by technology alone.

And then came the human element: training. Soldiers would need to be aligned—mentally and tactically—with the demands of an entirely new warfare paradigm. Advanced warships were one thing; using them to their full potential was another.

If those variables aligned—even imperfectly—then humanity would not only win the war. It would come at a cost, of course: more time, more losses. But those were necessary sacrifices—unavoidable in the path ahead.

Yet beyond immediate victory, her projections revealed something far more critical—something that had seemed impossible for the past fifty years.

A chance to build again. A true foundation.

Only with a stable and true foundation could humanity build the kind of economic, military, and industrial might that wouldn’t crack under the pressure of resource shortages.

Only then would they be free from the painful trade-offs between survival and sovereignty.

No longer would the loss of a single capital ship trigger a crisis over dwindling material stockpiles.

No longer would they be forced to choose between arming a fleet or feeding a colony.

And only then could the possibility of territorial expansion be fully realized—achieved not through desperation, but with stability. And more than that: achieved exponentially. With that, the future of humanity had truly become... its own.

Though that future was still a long way off—even with current progress and her simulations—foundations do not represent power. They represent potential.

Just as a foundation doesn’t dictate the height of a structure, but enables it—this foundation would become the fuel for humanity’s future conquests.

The Goddess of Wisdom knew: this moment, this fragile tipping point, would one day be remembered as a cornerstone in history—no matter which path was taken next.

And this time, the stars might finally align for them.

Having completed every simulation, tested every scenario, and accounted for every known variable she could calculate, test, or conceive, the Goddess of Wisdom finally let out a subtle, almost imperceptible sigh—a distinctly human gesture that startled both John and Natsha in ways they couldn’t fully comprehend.

Their eyes widened, locking onto each other, the astonishment in their expressions undeniable.

In that quiet moment, both of them became more certain than ever: the Goddess of Wisdom was truly beginning to feel—showing signs of emotion.

R𝑒ad latest chapt𝒆rs at freew𝒆(b)novel.c(o)m Only