Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1298 - 1297: Bitter Winter Has Arrived


Chapter 1298: Chapter 1297: Bitter Winter Has Arrived

A series of pleasant sounds like wind chimes came from the neural link, and Belsetia, seated on the Sovereignty Chair, slowly opened her eyes.

The vast control hall was rather inactive at the moment. The Sacred Stars Temple, currently in low-power cruising mode, was slowly returning from the border region of the Highmountain Kingdom. Amidst the graceful supporting structures with faint golden arcs at the hall’s edge, gentle light streams were slowly flowing, and among the low mechanical vibrations, one could occasionally hear a slight humming from certain systems.

Belsetia could hear the deeper "echoes" of this temple, those echoes sounding slow and gentle, through the neural links directly connected to the fortress core, rather than the sounds audible to human ears.

Since Master Vilanya and the astrologers conducted an inspection of the Sacred Stars Temple and replaced the thoroughly failed ancient systems with new energy arrays, this ancient Sky Fortress, which had weathered countless years of storms, finally escaped its continuous countdown to decay and collapse. The overwhelmed power source got a chance to catch a breath, and the chronically overloaded anti-gravity engine array saw improvements after receiving auxiliary power. In Belsetia’s memory, this was almost the most soothing low hum she had heard from the fortress since taking her seat on the Sovereignty Chair through the neural link.

But she knew this relief was only temporary... The Sacred Stars Temple was too old, and the problems it faced could not be solved merely by replacing some energy arrays and engines; Magic Guide Technology was useful but not omnipotent.

The technicians bought some time for the Sky Fortress—just time. Eventually, the elves must find a truly lasting solution.

But that is not something to consider right now.

Belsetia gently rubbed her forehead, allowing her perception, somewhat "misplaced" due to long-term connection to the temple systems, to gradually recover, and she looked at the handmaiden Elaine standing next to her: "The time is about right—dismiss the irrelevant personnel."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Handmaiden Elaine responded softly, then turned and gestured to the attendants below the throne platform and the Royal Guards beyond the inner ring. The personnel receiving the order immediately saluted the Sovereignty Chair, then filed out in order. In a brief moment, the vast control hall was left with only the Silver Empress on the throne and handmaiden Elaine, along with a bunch of automatically operating fortress monitoring systems.

"Main control rights transferred to autonomous mode, continue slow-speed cruising." Belsetia instructed the control system of the Sacred Stars Temple in her mind, then gently tapped the armrest of the throne with her fingers. A neural cable connected to the throne lit up, the lighting of the control hall dimmed, the windows quietly closed and locked, and in the next second, the floor in front of the throne slid open with a slight friction sound, and a communications device, resembling a crystal altar, rose from it.

The device activated, the crystal array at its top quickly brightened, releasing two beams to form a clear Magic Projection in mid-air. The images of Gawain Cecil and Emperor Rosetta Augustus appeared in the projection.

"Good, the meeting begins as scheduled," Gawain glanced at the two figures before him, sitting in his study while the images of Belsetia and Rosetta sat opposite him. Except for slight light fluctuations at the edge of the projection, it was almost indistinguishable from a face-to-face conversation, "Good afternoon to both of you."

The three imperial leaders exchanged greetings, then without much small talk, the slender, black-haired, black-eyed Rosetta Augustus spoke directly: "I heard you personally explored the War God’s Divine Realm and boarded an ancient spaceship heading deep into ’The Deep Sea,’ returning to this world two days later. Now you have convened this meeting at the first opportunity... What did you discover?"

"That ship is a legacy left by the Voyager, belonging to an ancient watch system known as the ’Sentinel,’" Gawain said openly. The matter of the Voyager was once confidential information solely held by the Cecil Empire, but with the formation of the alliance and changes in global dynamics, especially faced with the approaching common threats to mortal nations, this information is now disclosed among Alliance Member States. Each country, depending on its weight, holds varying degrees of information about the Voyager, and among the three empires, this information is shared at the highest standard, "I suppose the warning ’Beware of the Sentinel’ is not unfamiliar to you—yes, that ’Sentinel.’

Gawain recounted everything he witnessed in the depths of The Deep Sea, the intelligence he obtained at the Sentinel Base, and his observations and speculations about that ship’s peculiar situation. In face of a global crisis, there was no need to conceal this information, explaining the urgency of the situation could help allies on the same front muster enough strength.

During Gawain’s narration, Rosetta and Belsetia maintained a serious and solemn expression almost throughout. Their brows were tightly furrowed, listening intently. Occasionally, they would interrupt with queries until Gawain’s narrative concluded, and silence returned to the communication system. Belsetia broke the silence first: "So the ’Mysterious Cubes’ recently salvaged by sea demons from The Deep Blue Webway are likely the signal for the Sentinel’s action?"

"If before, we were merely suspecting the wasteland cultists’ activities being related to The Deep Blue Webway, now we can almost confirm the ’Sentinel’ is behind it," Gawain nodded and said, "Those cubes it deploys are likely some kind of Magic control devices, and a large number of such devices will form a vast system within The Deep Blue Webway. Once that thing takes shape, the Sentinel and its controlled cultists will almost grasp the lifeblood of our planet—their danger needs no emphasis from me."

Rosetta Augustus looked at Gawain: "What is your idea regarding this?"

"Mobilize all available forces to the foot of the great walls; now is no time to continue conserving strength. Once the border defense line is completed, immediately advance all forward bases into the wastelands, establish beachheads in the polluted areas, and start searching for traces of those cultists. Concurrently... try to establish contact with the center of the wastelands."

"Establish contact with the center of the wastelands?" Belsetia couldn’t help but furrow her brow. Gawain’s last sentence clearly caught her attention, "What could be there..."

Gawain’s gaze slowly swept over the Silver Empress and Typhon Emperor. After a few moments of silence, he spoke slowly in a deep voice: "The last legion of the ancient Gondor Empire... still holds steadfast in the ruins of the Well of Deep Blue. They will become our most steadfast allies when countering the wastelands."

Belsetia’s eyes widened in an instant, and she instinctively looked at Rosetta Augustus, only to see a similar shocked expression on the face of this always serious middle-aged human. It took ten full seconds before Rosetta spoke: "I’ve lost count of the times you’ve shocked me, my Majesty Gawain—how many secrets are you still hiding?"

"There are plenty of secrets, Augustus, who doesn’t have secrets?" Gawain spread his hands and said, "But ultimately, the secrets we bear should serve the world’s safety and the survival of all mortals. Right now, we’re facing the world’s biggest security concern."

Queen Belsetia calmly watched the holographic projection of Gawain, then slightly adjusted her posture, leaning her upper body forward: "I agree with this statement."

...

Bitter winter has arrived, the icy winds dominate the towering mountains of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range. Along with the expansion of snow belts around key peaks, the city at the foot of the Bitter Winter Castle walls gradually merges with this icy world. In the wind and snow, the land protected by the Wilder Clan for hundreds of years is now enveloped in pure white — a landscape Victoria Wilder is most familiar with, having grown up in Bitter Winter Castle.

She stands on the tallest terrace of Bitter Winter Castle, letting the cold wind whistle past her. Snow is blown from the tall sentinel towers, fluttering outside the terrace. She turns to look at the elderly man standing beside her, a rare smile appearing on her face, "These mountains and the vast plains and valleys beyond them are the Wilder Clan’s protected lands — of course, with the establishment of the Cecil Empire, the new order is beginning to take hold. The old land nobility system has dissolved on this land, and now these northern mountains belong to all people living here. The administration of this land falls under the Empire-authorized Administrative Office, and as one of the Empire’s three Grand Governors, I’ve returned the ownership of all northern lands, except Bitter Winter Castle."

Modir Wilder goes to the terrace edge, carefully craning his neck to look down. He sees the city built along the slopes extending in his view, smoke rising from the city, with a faintly glowing giant barrier covering all inhabited areas. He knows he should have seen this scenery before, yet as he searches through his memories, he can’t find any trace of it.

So in the end, he can only shake his head, abandoning meaningless recollections, and curiously asks, "But you seem to still be responsible for managing some parts of this place?"

"It’s part of my work as a Grand Governor. Every Grand Governor is responsible for an ’Directly Governed Province’ that serves as the Empire’s industrial and military focus," Victoria explains, "My authority to issue orders in the northern central province comes from the Empire’s authorization, rather than any inherent authority over these lands — in fact, the next northern Grand Governor might not even bear the name ’Wilder,’ and what my family heir can inherit from me, besides the title, is merely the castle and other family assets under your feet."

Modir had never dealt with matters at this level, at least not in his memories. Listening to Victoria’s explanation, he is both curious and surprised, reflecting for a moment before saying seriously, "Does your heir have no objection to such matters?"

"We’ve had honest and in-depth conversations, he has no objections," Victoria says seriously as well, "In fact, Fendil is an exceptionally talented young man. He possesses a young person’s unique sharp thinking and acceptance capacity, understands the necessity of the new order well, and is eager to embrace His Majesty’s new policies — you might not know yet? He entered the Imperial Academy to study long ago, graduating with excellent grades from the Officer Division, and has now proactively requested to go to the southern wasteland border, preparing to take his first step as a soldier there."

The duchess, who always maintains a cold face in front of outsiders, speaks with a slight smile on her face, "I believe he will earn his place in the Empire through his own abilities, rather than inheriting anything from me other than titles and the castle... This is also the path he has chosen for himself."

She stops here, continuing slowly after several seconds in contemplation, "It actually isn’t easy for those remnants of nobility who survived the upheaval to accept such changes, even if they’ve decided to stand on the ’right side.’ When it comes to some things, for certain people, it’s even harder than death. But if a family like the Wilders stands out first, truly embracing His Majesty’s decisions, then things will become much simpler, at least... we can greatly reduce the number of people hanging from the flagpoles."

"...That’s great," Modir thinks for a moment and says, "I mean the current order is great — in Northport, I’ve interacted with the local Administrative Office and procedures. I’ve also dealt with nobles across various regions before, the contrast between the two is evident. Some outdated things do indeed need to be replaced by new ones, and that’s perfectly understandable."

Victoria quietly looks at her ancestor for a moment upon hearing this, then speaks with a slightly peculiar tone, "Actually, just now I was worried you’d be angry — when I mentioned those ’new orders,’ such as the land and power I relinquished, like the changes in the Wilder Clan nowadays... I thought you might resent the ’decline’ of the family under my hands."

Modir is taken aback, a somewhat complex expression appearing on his face. He turns back to look at the distant mountains and the smoke rising in the city within them, finally responding after a long silence, "I understand your point, but... I don’t feel anything. This giant castle, those mountains and snow, and the ’antiques’ you’ve shown me — you said many things there I even used back in the days? Yet I still don’t have much impression. I only remember my name, remember the origin of this surname, but my connection to this land... seems to have completely been segmented to ’another place.’ Sorry, Victoria, my answer can only disappoint you."

"No, please don’t say that," Victoria immediately says, "I mean nothing else, I just hope you can be a bit happier here. If you’re struggling to remember impressions of this place, you can simply treat it as a comfortable resting place — every door here remains open for you, even if you don’t remember them."

"I’m glad you say that," Modir smiles, "Actually, I’m already quite happy living here, Victoria. The wilderness doesn’t have such nice rooms — and although I still don’t recall living here before, I’ve found things I like here nonetheless, like yesterday’s dinner soup you said was a northern traditional dish, what’s it called..."

"Mosaik Stew."

"Oh, right, that mixed stew, I like that taste."

"Alright, I’ll instruct the kitchen to make it again for today’s dinner."

"Excellent," Modir says with a smile, "I think I can start by considering this mixed stew and begin treating this place as ’home’ again."

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