Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste-Chapter 939 - 160

As the Northern Fleet slowly descended upon the floating city port, the entire dock was set abuzz.

This aerial port, personally designed by Perfikot, was finally receiving its first officially docked floating battleships.

The steel giants' steam engines rumbled deeply, and massive anchor chains slowly dropped under the pull of mechanical devices.

The Northern Territory insignia painted on the side of the ship gleamed brightly in the desert sunlight, while sailors on the deck busily secured the mooring ropes.

The port's automated loading and unloading systems operated at full capacity for the first time, with mechanical arms precisely aligning with the supply ports of the battleships.

Perfikot stood on the observation deck, gripping the railing with one hand while quickly flipping through the port operation data displayed on the terminal with the other.

Today, she deliberately donned formal attire to project the imperial regent's majesty, to welcome the fleet, and to inspect the state of the floating battleship she had designed after its long journey.

Although Perfikot conducted numerous tests on the floating battleships back in the Northern Territory, at the time, there were indeed no conditions for long-range tests.

Now that it could be addressed, it was as if a missing piece was finally in place.

"Arriving a few days later than estimated, it seems that the Northern Territory navigators still need more navigational training," she said without lifting her head, her voice betraying no emotions.

As the gangway had just stabilized, Perfikot was already striding confidently to the front of the berth.

Her dark blue dress subtly swayed with her movements, her silver-lined cloak gently fluttered in the dry desert wind.

The captain's military boots had just stepped onto the gangway's first step when he saw the imperial regent already standing before him.

"Take me to see your engine room first." Perfikot raised her hand to interrupt the captain's pending formal report, "Other reports can wait."

As she spoke, she tilted her head slightly, allowing silver-white strands of hair to slide from her shoulder, shimmering with a metallic luster under the dim engine room lights.

At that moment, the imperial ruler's aura of authority seemed to quietly fade away, replaced by a near-childlike eagerness — reminiscent of the young alchemist who first created a steam core in the Northern Territory laboratory.

The engine room was filled with the heavy smell of oil and metal, and the steam pipes occasionally hissed with pressure relief, like giant mechanical serpents murmuring in their sleep.

The crew members busy with routine checks hastily lined up, and a young sailor, in his panic, wiped his face with an oily sleeve, smudging more grease across it.

An old sergeant with greying temples nervously rubbed his hands, rough palms still stained with uncleared lubricant, "Noble lady, your dress is precious, you shouldn't tread this dirty place! We cannot afford to soil your attire."

Saying so, his gaze unconsciously shifted to Perfikot's embroidered dark blue gown, reportedly worth half the maintenance cost of their entire battleship for six months.

Upon hearing this, Perfikot looked down at her priceless uniform's hem and scanned the coal and oil-stained floors around her. In everyone's stunned gaze, she calmly drew a Golden Touching Rod from her waist, with a soft "snap," the rod traced a graceful arc in her palm.

With a flash of blue light, her luxurious gown instantly transformed into a set of deep brown engineer attire, including a neatly cut high-collared jacket and cargo pants equipped with numerous practical pockets.

Even her gem-encrusted hair adornments vanished, replaced by a uniquely designed alchemical goggles, its various tinted lenses subtly rotating within the frame, emitting a faint "click" sound.

"Now it's fine." She inserted the Golden Touching Rod back into her waist holster, taking the navigation log offered by the captain with a quick swipe of her fingers across its pages, "Take me to the main drive shaft. The navigation log indicates an anomaly with the third thruster's vibration, and I need to confirm whether the gear assembly is at fault."

The captain opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say more, but ultimately could only gesture invitingly.

The metal stairs of the engine room echoed clearly beneath Perfikot's custom engineer boot soles, her agile form quickly vanishing into the complex mechanical structures, leaving behind a group of wide-eyed crew members and the old sergeant.

He stared blankly at his greasy sleeve, as if contemplating whether to find a Golden Touching Rod to try it himself.

Perfikot traversed the narrow maintenance passage to the third thruster compartment, her alchemical goggles automatically switching to high-magnification mode.

She ran her hand over the steam turbine's casing, her fingertips sensing the faint vibrations on the metal surface.

"The alignment of the drive shaft is off," she suddenly spoke, her voice especially clear within the enclosed cabin, her finger pausing near the main bearing mount, pointing here and saying, "The vibration frequency here does not synchronize with the power output end."

The captain was about to explain, but he saw her already removing her goggles, retrieving a slender resonance probe from her tool belt.

The moment the probe tip touched the bearing mount, it emitted a distinctive buzzing sound.

Perfikot closed her eyes to listen, gradually furrowing her brow, "The viscosity of the bearing lubricant is off; did you not follow the maintenance protocols?"

She signaled the mechanician accompanying her to open the maintenance panel.