Chapter 253: Chapter 252: Upending the Natural Order
The more advanced the technology, the harder it is to become a qualified warrior. Although Li Qingsong had no firsthand experience with this, he was well aware of the difficulty of training a qualified warrior through simulations using the Blutuk People as a data source.
It was basically no less difficult than training a research scholar.
The scenario found in primitive civilizations—where one could become a qualified warrior simply through sufficient physical strength and tedious training—was completely impossible for a civilization at this level.
Even with the Blutuk People, under his patronage, the ratio of front-line warriors to the total population could barely reach 1:1500 when benchmarked against average human capabilities.
From this perspective, the excellence of the Harville Civilization was beyond doubt.
But…
‘The ratio of my front-line soldiers to my total population isn’t 1:2000, 1:1000, or even the 1-to-a-few-hundred that would be unimaginable for a normal civilization. It’s… one-to-one!’
‘Every single Clone, regardless of his role, can instantly become a qualified warrior when the need arises. He can immediately sit in the control chair of a command base and seamlessly integrate into the entire combat system!’
‘And they don’t need any training. Tens of millions of Clones can instantly share a single mind and act in perfect unison!’
Right now, the 800,000 Manned Warships under the remote control of the Clones moved as if they possessed a single, unified will. Their coordination was flawless, their synergy perfect.
With superior numbers and more cohesive coordination, Li Qingsong was holding his ground, even though the Harville Civilization’s warships had better performance and their unmanned combat AI was slightly superior to the Wukong AI.
Speaking of the Wukong AI, Li Qingsong felt a bit resigned at the moment.
It couldn’t be helped. Since advancing to a Strong Core Civilization, Li Qingsong had never had a period of abundant resources. As a result, he hadn’t been able to put the Wukong AI through practical combat training or feed it more real-world battle data, so its growth had slowed.
There was nothing Li Qingsong could do about it lagging slightly behind its opponent now.
Tens of millions of kilometers away, inside a giant Space-Air Carrier that Li Qingsong had specially converted into a battlefield command base, Clones sat in rows of intelligent cockpits, helmets on and eyes shut tight.
Connected via neural chips, the brains of these Clones were under Li Qingsong’s real-time control while also being linked to a massive Super-distance Communication base.
The intent originating from these Clones’ brains was thus transmitted in real-time to the manned ships on the front lines.
At the same time, numerous sensors on the manned ships, along with countless spy and probe satellites, relayed every piece of battlefield intelligence back in real time. Under Li Qingsong’s unified distribution, this data was fed into different brains for processing, which ultimately formed decisions that were sent back to the front.
The twenty million front-line Clones in the intelligent cockpits, together with over a hundred million second-line Clones in the rest areas, formed this battlefield intelligence network, operating at high speed under Li Qingsong’s unified command.
In the vast control hall, a Clone would occasionally remove his helmet. Pale-faced and with vacant eyes, as if completely drained, he would stagger to his feet and head for the rest area, falling asleep the moment he lay down, not even sparing a thought for food.
Their minds and bodies were so exhausted that they could do nothing but rest.
Some Clones even died abruptly in their intelligent cockpits mid-battle, too suddenly for any medical intervention.
The life-monitoring system would then sound an alarm, and a logistics Clone would arrive to remove the body for disposal.
Whenever an intelligent cockpit became vacant, another Clone would immediately rush over to take his place, continuing to contribute his intelligence to the battlefield.
Everything was orderly—busy, but not chaotic.
Similar scenes were unfolding simultaneously on three planets within this Interstellar System.
In tens of thousands of intelligent command bases spread across the surfaces of these planets, deep underground, and in space, similar scenes played out. Within control halls that could each hold hundreds of people, Harville Warriors sat in intelligent cockpits specially designed for their slender frames. These warriors, who had earned their seats through centuries of study and training, also had their eyes tightly closed, connected to their own intelligent combat system by chips.
Compared to Li Qingsong’s intelligent command bases, the Harvillers’ bases had more personnel and a greater variety of functional areas.
In the strategy section, numerous staff officers worked furiously, analyzing the current state of the battlefield and formulating the next phase of the battle plan. In the command section, the commander of each sub-base maintained constant contact with his superiors, receiving their directives while adjusting his own unit’s operational plans.
Outside the vast intelligent control centers, countless Harville Warriors bustled about.
Warriors who had completed their regulated four-hour combat shifts were granted a temporary break. They required various foods and drinks to calm their nerves and soothe their bodies, as well as a variety of recreational areas to relax and unwind.
Amidst this constant flow of personnel, the collective intelligence of the Harville Warriors was likewise transmitted via their Super-distance Communication bases to the warships on the front line, where they fought to repel the enemy’s assault and inflict as much damage as possible.
By this point, countless unmanned combat installations had been destroyed on the battlefield. Combined, both sides had lost at least ten thousand manned combat ships.
But the strange thing was, despite the fierce battle and the staggering losses, not a single sentient being had yet died.
This was true for both Li Qingsong’s forces and the Harville Civilization.
This was the nature of warfare for higher-level civilizations, a method that transcended that of an Electroweak Civilization.
Li Qingsong knew this model was closer to the true essence of war.
War wasn’t just about fighting; it was about logistics, a civilization’s industrial might, and its technological foundation!
Yet at this moment, Li Qingsong could clearly feel that he was being suppressed in the very area he took most pride in: industrial strength.
On the battlefield, the 800,000 warships on Li Qingsong’s side had now been reduced to 750,000.
And the enemy’s warship count… was still 400,000!
Not a single ship short!
It wasn’t that Li Qingsong hadn’t destroyed any of the enemy’s warships. In fact, despite the performance disparity, he had managed to destroy about ten thousand enemy warships thanks to his superior numbers and more cohesive coordination.
But for every ten thousand he destroyed, the enemy immediately replenished ten thousand! Their numbers remained at their peak of 400,000, not a single ship short!
Li Qingsong felt a strange sense of humiliation.
“My very existence is already modeled after a ‘Celestial Calamity’ civilization.”
“You could probably call me… a Cloning Calamity!”
“And now, you—a conventional, intelligent civilization—are managing to out-produce me, a Cloning Calamity? Good. That’s just great…”