Andresha looked at her sovereign with a trace of astonishnt.
At first, she did not perceive anything unusual in Emperor Rosetta’s words—because nearly any Typhon aristocrat who grasped the situation and understood the changes in the Empire over the years could see that war between Typhon and Anzu was inevitable. However, she quickly realized that Rosetta’s words had a deeper aning beyond that.
Gawain Cecil would ultimately beco an enemy of Typhon.
Rosetta Augustus had always regarded Anzu as prey, but now, within the prey, erged another hunter, equally ravenous.
"Your Majesty, since that’s the case, why cooperate with him?"
"There are many forms of warfare, and ’collaboration’ is one of them," Rosetta calmly stated. "In this cooperation, the Empire can gain significant benefits. The Cecil Clan holds sothing we urgently need, but at the sa ti, we have sothing they urgently need... We plot against them, and they plot against us."
Andresha bowed her head slightly, contemplating the deeper aning within the Emperor’s words.
"The ’magical industry’ created by the Cecil Clan is changing the operational rules of society. I can’t yet see what it will ultimately beco, but I can sense that the current order, built on land and agriculture, will soon be broken by factories and machines. In this field, the Cecil Clan is already ahead of us, but they have their advantages, and we have ours," Rosetta continued. "Send this vehicle back to the Empire, to the Imperial Construction Association, and disassemble it, no matter the cost, we must understand how it operates. We may not be able to build sothing better for now, but at least we should create one that runs just like it."
"Also, inform Duke Ferdinand Wendell to convene the Palace Advisor and assess the national production and demand for iron ore, magic-conducting materials, as well as food and cotton, to plan the initial transport routes.
"Organize scholars in the fields of machinery and magic guide technology. From now on, let them work and live alongside road construction workers, preparing to beco ’workers.’ The Cecil Clan likely won’t allow our mages and scholars to participate in the technical aspects of building ’railways,’ but they can’t avoid hiring workers.
"Draft an order for , instruct Duke Sevin to comnce preparations for a ’bank’...
"Order the council to evaluate all risks of these matters..."
Risk... the term flashed through Andresha’s mind, while she morized every order from Emperor Rosetta.
The great sun was hidden behind the chaotic, turbid clouds, and the light leaking from the clouds gradually approached the western horizon. The sky swiftly darkened as the lamps in the camp lit up one after another, the bright magic crystal lamps emitting a steady glow, making this small camp seem like a beacon in the chaos, its brilliance intertwining with the majestic grandeur of the great walls.
Rosetta Augustus returned to his palace, quietly sitting on a high-backed chair, surrounded by reports and data regarding factories, roads, and cotton production.
As the night deepened, the Emperor glanced at the sky outside the window, then leaned back slightly on the chair, closing his eyes for a brief rest.
Boundless, tranquil darkness seed to envelop his senses and mind in an instant.
Rosetta Augustus opened his eyes to find himself standing inside a magnificent, luxurious palace.
This palace was the epito of beauty, with soaring columns and a grand do. All the walls and ceilings were adorned with exquisite paintings and colorful patterns, narrow pointed windows in rich Typhon style were embedded into the walls, with intricate patterns on the crystal glass of the windows.
A vast hall unfolded before Rosetta. The hall seed capable of accommodating a thousand people for a ball—yet, in reality, the entire palace was devoid of people.
An unspeakable deathly silence enveloped this splendid yet empty structure. No attendants, no guards, not a single human figure; only faint, twilight-like light shining through the high, narrow windows, casting alternating light and shadows in the palace hall.
Rosetta quietly observed this empty palace of dreams, his expression calm and indifferent. After a brief mont of stillness, he stepped forward.
As he stepped forward, countless low, vague murmurs and whispers suddenly echoed from all directions, their source unknown.
These omnipresent sounds conjured fragnted, overlapping conversations, laughter and frolic, blending with suppressed weeping and shrill screams. It was as if the once-empty palace was suddenly brimming with invisible visitors or occupants, wandering through the empty corridors and hallways, chatting, laughing, scolding, and crying around Rosetta Augustus—yet Rosetta continued forward quietly, as if ignoring all the auditory interference.
Finally, within the chaotic murmurs and whispers, a clear whisper erged, hoarse and low, reaching the Typhon Emperor’s ears: "...Ah... you’ve co again... so unyielding..."
Rosetta kept walking, and as he stepped forward, the vast hall silently shattered, revealing a deep, endless corridor in front of him, its destination unknown. This hallway also had narrow windows flanking either side, twilight casting through them onto the opposite wall, light and shadow intertwining, displaying portrait after portrait that hung silently on the walls.
Rosetta saw his older brother, his father, his uncle...
Each individual who inherited the bloodline of the Augustus Clan and had departed from this world was hanging there, watching him through those cold oil paintings with indifferent eyes.
The one closest to him was his eldest son, who had died young.
The young man frozen in the fra looked at Rosetta and suddenly spoke: "Father... will you ever stop to rest?"
Yet Rosetta’s footsteps did not halt; he continued moving forward.
The low whisper echoed again: "Both sides of this path are death, and the end of this path is also death..."
Rosetta gradually moved deeper into the corridor, with the surrounding light dimming further. The portraits on either side began to grow older, more faded, more distant and indifferent. Those Augustus ancestors from more ancient tis seed to gaze malevolently at the Typhon Emperor who was walking down the corridor, while the low whisper persistently continued:
"...Why not stop and rest for a while; there’s no need to challenge the unattainable...
"The truth is painful... better to leave it behind; sotis, living in ignorance is a mortal’s blessing...
"Those Augustus ancestors before you, they were as stubborn as you, but what were their outcos? Not a single one succeeded; they all went mad, utterly mad... you weren’t ant to see it, but since you have, it’s better to accept this curse calmly..."
At the corridor’s end, all that maddening whispering and murmuring abruptly vanished. Rosetta quietly raised his head, looking at the portraits hanging at the end of the hallway.
This marked the beginning of Augustus as the ruler of Typhon, the origin of this ancient family—those early Augustus mbers who had perished with the Gondor Empire had vanished over ti, leaving no image in this "palace" despite so nas passing down.
In the dim, indistinct lighting, Rosetta saw several portraits: Roland Augustus, Betromond Augustus, Talia Augustus...
At the end of these parallel portraits, he saw the place for Beltira Augustus. However, the center of the dark fra seed enveloped in a layer of lingering shadow, completely obscuring the visage of the saint who had been active seven hundred years ago.
Rosetta looked calmly at the painting for a mont, then withdrew his gaze, breaking the silence for the first ti: "Is Beltira Augustus really still alive?"
From the depths of the empty palace, no response ca to his question.
Rosetta seed unsurprised by this outco, rely displaying a slight mocking smile as he turned to leave.
That whispering voice resounded again: "Why haven’t you gone mad yet?"
Rosetta’s footsteps paused slightly, his voice deep: "We possess a resilience beyond your imagination."
The palace began to shake violently, as if the dream was about to end.
Rosetta looked up, watching the deep, long corridors continuously crumble, stones and bricks falling, while behind him, in the unknown depths of darkness, a distant whisper turned into a remote sigh: "Alas..."
That sigh seed to contain endless regret and helplessness, quite different from the previous whispers of madness and malice.
The final supporting structure of the entire palace also completely disintegrated after that sigh, turning into nothingness.
After the walls completely collapsed, the scene outside the palace appeared before Rosetta’s eyes. He saw a city, a city rapidly collapsing amidst an apocalyptic upheaval. Countless towering towers and majestic walls disintegrated in the violent shaking, the earth opened up into a terrifyingly large chasm, and an entire city seed to be swallowed by the earth in an instant. Amidst the continuously collapsing scenes, deep within the earth, the last thing he saw was a transparent do, within which floated an indescribable aggloration of starlight...
...
The giant sun rose and set, day and night alternated, stars shifted.
Ancient constellations gazed upon this world like gods, watching the passage of ti, observing the bustling of mortals.
The Frost Throne Constellation passed over the zenith of the sky, winter began to release its final power in the last month of this season, cold winds howled, the earth froze.
With the support of engineering machinery and various advanced technologies, the "sub-tower" managed by the Cecil Peak Base completed its main structure a month ahead of schedule, and a series of "purification devices" extending north from the sub-tower also finished the main construction. After this, the installation and debugging of a series of subsequent magical devices beca the main work content for the mage technicians.
Technical exchanges between the Silver Empire and the Cecil Principality finally entered the right track. After initial adjustnts and minor project tests, the elven mage located in the southern part of the continent and the human magic energy researchers in the northern part established a preliminary mutual understanding. The Cecil Principality and Silver Empire set up more signal relay towers and enhancent devices within their controlled areas, under a more stable, more efficient communication environnt, researchers from both races began a series of technical exchanges and cooperation projects through remote communication spanning the entire continent.
In the year 738 of Anzu, on the 35th day of the Cold Month, Gawain received magic web communication from Aunt Heidi.
"The envoy dispatched by Typhon has arrived at Cecil Castle," the elegant and composed Grand Governor of the Principality reported seriously in the holographic projection, "according to your orders, they will be arranged to visit the operation of the Magic Train Eastern Line the next day."
"They’ve finally arrived... But it’s understandable, considering how important this project is, Rosetta Augustus and his think tank must have assessed countless tis before making the final decision," Gawain sat behind his desk, hearing the unique whistle of heavy transport vehicles outside the window. A batch of rocks, soil, and non-human monster specins collected from the wasteland had just been loaded, ready for delivery to Cecil Castle’s research departnt. "How’s the state of the Principality?"
"Everything is stable, the last batch of exiled knights in the northern parts has surrendered, all border regions and key city areas have the magic detection and sensing devices established and activated. According to the plan, next, we will extend the sensing devices to villages and towns."
Gawain sighed slightly.
Thus, the current stage of social security in the Cecil Principality was finally complete.
The so-called "magic detection and sensing devices" were special facilities developed by Kal and set by the Administrative Office. Its idea ca from the ancient Gondor Empire, and its technology was a blend of contemporary "Magic Detection Spell" and magic web communication technology. Its greatest function was to detect all spell-casting activity within its range and imdiately send an alert. Supervisors at the Administrative Office’s security departnt can see the alerting node location from the city model and quickly identify unauthorized spell activities.
Of course, this system wasn’t intended to prohibit transcendents from casting spells—by carrying a special "Spellcaster Permit," and relying on the magic symbol array within the permit, transcendents could cast spells normally. This permit must be obtained from the Administrative Office and requires regular inspections, magic symbol updates, and qualification assessnts. Therefore, transcendents within Cecil must be registered—there was so resistance at the initial implentation of this system, but due to the substantial results of the Unification War, nearly ninety percent of transcendents in the southern borders were under the Principality’s control, and those not regulated were few. Eventually, it was smoothly implented.
This system had been laying since mid-last year, and now it was finally taking shape.
The effective managent of all transcendents sounded futuristic, but this idea wasn’t advanced at all.
Not ntioning the Gondor Empire a thousand years ago, just beyond the country’s borders, Typhon already achieved registration and professional managent of transcendents years ago. Their special "Engineering Mage" team is clear proof.
Typhon utilized nurous mage towers and a large number of loyal Royal Mages to register and sense most of the city area’s transcendents and established many training facilities to cultivate more loyal and obedient "dedicated spellcasters" to the Empire’s orders. This thod was costly, but relying on a strong "Monetary Ability," Typhon finally achieved it all.
Anzu was already a step behind in this respect, so Gawain had to compensate for the latecor disadvantage through more advanced technologies and systems. At least within the Principality, he must achieve more effective control over the transcendents.
Of course, those facilities and systems surely had flaws; there would always be those who exploit loopholes and find ways to hide magic fluctuations. High-level or legendary hero transcendents might rely on their powerful abilities to shield from the monitoring of magical sensing devices; cracking and anti-cracking, surveillance and anti-surveillance, this confrontation would never end. But regardless, as long as the new managent thod had so effect, the southern borders would be a bit safer. At the very least, those trying to infiltrate and perform evil rites anyti, anywhere wouldn’t find it so easy to sneak in now.
From now on, evil cult followers operating in the southern borders, whether they were Eternal Sleepers or Oblivion, would face the situation where chanting a spell would lead to being handcuffed to a radiator by law enforcent.
...
Hanging up the communication, Aunt Heidi stretched her spine vigorously, moving her slightly sore neck.
Outside, the cold wind was howling, the snow from two days ago still pressed down on the rooftops of several buildings, crystal-clear icicles hung down from the window eaves, showcasing the cold outside.
A slight stream of warm air flowed along the ventilation ducts, blowing out from the air circulation openings on both sides of the office, maintaining a comfortable temperature in the office. Even in this cold weather, the room temperature was cozy enough to induce drowsiness.
In fact, Rebecca had already fallen asleep on the nearby sofa.
Aunt Heidi glanced at her niece sleeping soundly, shaking her head involuntarily.
"...She ca to chat with the ancestor, but fell asleep before the communication connected..."
She muttered a couple of sentences but didn’t wake Rebecca up, nor did she look to bla anything.
She knew Rebecca was indeed very tired recently—for the technical exchange with the Silver Empire, for organizing and preparing a series of new projects, this simple-minded girl hadn’t rested well for half a month.
This child needed a good sleep.
Aunt Heidi found a blanket from next door and gently covered Rebecca with it, which made her involuntarily think of when the latter was little—this restless girl was always a master at kicking blankets. Even with two maids watching, they often couldn’t keep up with Rebecca’s kicking speed...
Seemingly sensing sothing, Rebecca, lying on the sofa, slightly arched her body, muttering indistinctly: "...Ancestor... I will understand... the elf’s magic symbols..."
Muttering, she suddenly smiled foolishly in her sleep, as if she received praise in her dreams.
Aunt Heidi watched Rebecca’s movents, a slight smile appearing on her face before she stood up, her gaze passing over the calendar hanging on the wall not far away.
Cold Month, 35th day.
Winter would end in 25 days.
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