Chapter 1079: Chapter 1078: Saying Hello

Amber’s wild imagination was, of course, just wild imagination. After this half-elf finished her rambling, Gawain glanced at this shame of all creatures with a faint smile: "So, tell me, what do you think about the things you heard today?"

"The things I heard today?" Amber stuck out her tongue immediately, huddling her neck as she mumbled to herself, "I just feel like everything I heard today is lethal... In any other setting or identity, I’d be silenced immediately..."

Gawain maintained a semi-smiling expression while watching this half-elf until her demeanor grew increasingly awkward, and she could no longer feign ignorance. Finally, she had to speak in a small voice: "Actually, I’ve long suspected that the identity of the ’Wanderer from Outer Realm’ is not entirely a bluff..."

"I knew you sensed something," Gawain’s lips curled up, "Of course, you would have sensed something."

Amber stared steadily at Gawain, and a few seconds later, her expression relaxed. Her usual carefree demeanor returned, and she revealed a smug smile: "Of course—I am the most well-informed person on the entire northern continent."

"If my Minister of Intelligence couldn’t piece together the truth from multiple angles of information, then the imperial intelligence system would clearly face its biggest crisis," Gawain sighed lightly, as if a burden was suddenly lifted from his heart, leaving him feeling somewhat relieved, yet also curious, "However... do you think Aunt Heidi and Rebecca have noticed this?"

Amber tilted her head, then looked up towards the distant sunset, allowing the pale golden clouds to reflect in her amber-colored eyes: "I guess... from the day you stepped out of the tomb, they never really cared whether you were Gawain Cecil or not. And now, this question becomes even more meaningless."

Gawain looked at this half-elf with some surprise, knowing that beneath her rough exterior lay a very sharp mind. However, he never expected that she had already considered such a profound question—Amber’s response seemed to remind him of something, and he appeared thoughtful before finally dismissing all his musings with a smile.

Everything familiar to Gawain Cecil had already faded away, and only a handful of people had survived through the seven hundred years. For those active in this era, all they needed was to recognize the Gawain of today.

This question indeed holds no meaning.

"Speaking of which, you didn’t mention the matter of the God of Nature to that empress," Amber commented upon observing Gawain’s changing expression, suddenly voicing a reminder from beside him, "Aren’t you planning to tell? If the elves want to join the theocracy Authority Council, this matter will have to be brought to the table sooner or later—at least for a figure like the Silver Empress, who holds dual power in theocracy and sovereignty, she will sooner or later come into contact with the core of the defied Plan and will inevitably learn about Amoen’s existence."

"Yes, eventually, but now is not the right time," Gawain nodded, "At least not before the elves officially join our plan, and not before confirming that Queen Belsetia can unify and control all upper echelons of the Elven Empire’s will. Their governance system has been in operation for over ten thousand years, and their royal court has developed into a colossal entity difficult for outsiders to fully comprehend. Even the mighty Silver Empress may not be able to control it all."

Pausing here, he spoke again, his voice calm and slow: "It’s not that I don’t trust Belsetia, but this matter involves gods, and the elves... Over the past three thousand years, they have made numerous attempts to bring gods back into this world."

"Yes, the existence of Amoen, the Giant Stag, if it were to spread among the common people of the Silver Empire, might cause a huge disturbance," Amber pondered, agreeing and letting out a sigh, "Even without clues, they’ve managed to create several ’divine prototypes,’ and now with clues, they might produce a ’Resurrection of the Ancestor God’ within a year. It’s even possible those old folks still alive might leverage their prestige to coerce public opinion, forcing the royal family to welcome back a true god... The Silver Empress may not be able to withstand such pressure."

"That is precisely my concern," Gawain nodded, saying, "After all, Belsetia mentioned that five centuries ago, she had to eradicate a mystic group attempting to summon a deity—for humans, five centuries might seem long, but for elves, it’s just ’merely five centuries.’

Amber opened her mouth to say more but unexpectedly closed it again—she glanced at a corner of the street, where the High-ranked Order Messenger Sonia was coming this way.

"It seems that you have finished your conversation with our King," Sonia said with a slight bow of courtesy, arriving in front of Gawain. She was certainly very curious about the content of the conversation with the Silver Empress over the past half-day, but she showed no signs of curiosity or inquiry, "Do you need me to accompany you to continue touring the rest of the town?"

"No need, you can head over to Rebecca—she needs someone watching over her more than me," Gawain replied, his gaze directed towards a particular place within the town, "As for me... I still have to visit some other friends. Don’t worry, Soldrin is also among the guards; he’s a good guide here."

Sonia glanced at Gawain and Amber, showing no doubt on her face, just taking a half step back: "In that case, I will take my leave."

The figure of the High-ranked Order Messenger slowly faded into the distance, and the attendants and guards who were on standby nearby also received Amber’s signal. Two Magic-guided Vehicles nimbly arrived beside Gawain; as the door of one vehicle opened, Soldrin emerged from the passenger seat, smiling at Gawain: "Did the negotiation with Her Majesty the Empress go smoothly?"

"Not exactly as expected, but just as smoothly as hoped," Gawain smiled and nodded, casually asking, "The Typhon Empire delegates should have arrived by now, right?"

"Yes, news just came in from the envoy’s residency. A Typhon envoy has arrived carrying the imperial seal of Augustus—Emperor Rosetta Augustus invites you to meet in Meeting Room 7 of Jade Hall."

"Hmm, that was something we had discussed beforehand," Gawain said, already having anticipated this. He turned his head to Amber, saying, "Get in the car; it looks like we won’t be having any free time in the next few days."

...

The pleasantly cool scent carried by the adequately magical-driven breeze swept over the southern lands’ flora, spreading an agreeable fragrance. The dim glow of dusk slanted into the garden, casting across the path flanked by bushy shrubbery through a breach in the distant high walls, leaving what seemed like a trail forged of light. Bugs flitted along the trajectory, leaving behind sparkles like fallen dust motes.

All of this made the little garden appear more tranquil than ever.

The tea on the table had grown cold once more, but Belsetia did not ask the maid to replace it with fresh tea. Instead, she idly stirred the amber liquid with a teaspoon, which shimmered golden-red in the sunlight, and casually asked: "Which direction did they head in?"

"Towards the direction of the Jade Hall," Handmaiden Elaine replied with a bow, "Moreover, the Typhon vehicles are also parked in the vacant lot behind the Jade Hall—they seem to be planning a closed-door negotiation before the official meeting."

"Is that so..." Belsetia seemed somewhat unconcerned, "Who knows what they plan to discuss."

"Would you like me to investigate?" another high-ranking handmaiden bent down, cautiously inquiring.

"No," Belsetia replied without hesitation, "We don’t need to engage in such minor acts; there’s no benefit, only added risk. Whatever consensus Cecil and Typhon reach in the negotiation, the results will manifest soon enough."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The garden fell silent once more, and the tea in the cup slowly reverted to stillness amidst its rotation. Queen Belsetia seemed to savor the rare tranquility and peace until a few minutes later, she suddenly broke the silence: "Yilian, after seeing Uncle Gawain again... what are your thoughts?"

The high-ranked handmaiden named Yilian thought for a moment, then replied with her head slightly bowed: "Everything is as I remember it, I’m glad to see him in good health now. Your Majesty, did you notice anything amiss?"

Belsetia raised her eyelids, but before she spoke, footsteps suddenly came from the direction of the garden entrance. An attendant appeared at the end of the path, holding an exquisite wooden box. After receiving permission, the attendant approached Queen Belsetia and placed the box on the white round table: "Your Majesty, the Cecil envoy just delivered a gift from His Majesty Gawain Cecil for you."

Yilian stepped forward and opened the wooden box, but it was not filled with precious rarities; instead, it was a box of assorted snacks.

Belsetia quietly gazed at the colorful pastries within the box, and finally, a hint of a smile surfaced on her calm expression as she lightly sighed and spoke as if to herself: "There’s nothing amiss, Yilian."

...

As more and more envoys from various nations gathered at the elf outpost on the border of the wasteland, the focus of the entire mortal world was directed towards the northeastern side of the great walls, while far away in the imperial capital city at the foot of the Dark Mountain Range, the Cecil Palace seemed quieter than usual.

The master of the Palace and the most lively Princess Veronica had both left, Aunt Heidi was busy half the time in the Administrative Office, and during the days of the master’s absence, there were no visitors coming to pay respects—within this vast house, seven to eighty percent of the noise was suddenly reduced, rendering every corridor and room seemingly less vibrant.

But Betty didn’t mind these quiet days—of course, she also didn’t oppose the noise of days gone by.

Heels tapped crisply against the marble floor, producing a series of clear sounds, and Betty walked briskly through the spacious corridor. Attendants and maids passed by her side, halting respectfully to greet and salute the maidservant supervisor. Betty always responded politely to each individual and most of the time could even call them by name.

These years of reading and study have improved her mind considerably.

As attendants and maids departed, Betty could hear their low whispers, and occasionally, snippets of their words would float into her ears—most of them talked about His Majesty’s current outing or discussed the news in the newspapers, or spoke of the meeting occurring a thousand miles away. Although they spent most of their time in the great mansion, when they conversed fiercely, it was as if they were personally accompanying the King on campaigns in the arena of negotiation.

Betty couldn’t keep up with their thoughts, but seeing everyone so spirited, her mood brightened considerably.

After completing her daily routine patrol, the "trusted maidservant of the emperor" exhaled lightly. She raised her head to find she had reached the end of a corridor, and a door inlaid with brass magic symbols stood before her, with two fully armed royal guards dutifully on guard.

She approached the door, and the guards bowed their heads to greet her with a smile: "Good evening, Miss Betty."

"Good evening," Betty replied politely, peeking towards the door, "No unusual happenings inside, I presume?"

One guard immediately stood straight: "None, everything is normal."

"Alright, I need to go inside to check," Betty said.

"Certainly," the guards promptly stepped aside and opened the door, "Please do."

Betty nodded, thanked them, and passed through the guards, entering the heavy door adorned with brass magic symbols—

Behind the door was a spacious and bright room, almost devoid of any furnishings, yet with numerous rune triggers neatly laid out on the floor and walls. These runes emitted a faint glow, making the entire room seem shrouded in a mist-like aura. The room’s ceiling also featured independent ventilation ducts, from which clean and temperature-controlled air flowed, maintaining a very comfortable and warm temperature.

The heavy door closed behind her, and Betty raised her eyes to the center of the room: there was a special platform with grooves, and a giant spherical object, measuring two meters high and emanating a soft golden light, stood quietly on the platform.

This was the "guest" His Majesty specifically instructed to take care of.

Betty gathered herself, walked around the gigantic "egg" twice to ensure it was still intact, and then checked a nearby holographic projection displaying words and symbols to confirm the room’s temperature control and charging devices were functioning properly—she didn’t actually understand how these complex advanced setups worked, but having completed all courses in the Common Academy and even a small portion of advanced courses in the Imperial Academy, she was more than capable of interpreting the reports on the holographic display.

After completing all these routine inspection tasks, the maidservant exhaled, then returned to the giant egg, somehow now holding a piece of white soft cloth—she breathed upon a spot on the egg’s surface and began carefully buffing the shell with the soft cloth.

The sound of "squeak squeak" emitted as the cloth brushed against the smooth eggshell, resonating in the room.

Soon, the giant egg became increasingly polished and bright under Betty’s care, its surface faintly reflecting her image.

The maidservant felt satisfied with her work, stepped back to observe her masterpiece, and nodded with a smile, before frowning slightly as if pondering something seriously.

They called this an "egg," yet it seemed not merely an egg. Princess Rebecca mentioned it was an important guest, and His Majesty reminded to care for this "guest" attentively... Since it’s a guest, wouldn’t it be appropriate to greet?

Betty pondered seriously and finally made a decision; she straightened her maid dress’s skirt and pleats, then solemnly bowed towards the giant egg: "Hello, my name is Betty."

"Hello, my name is Enya," the egg politely replied.

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