A figure draped in a black robe flew over from the direction of Shadow Marsh, landing on the Typhon checkpoint. Imdiately, soldiers and stationed officers approached to inquire about this Mage’s purpose—Mages who master flight spells are not the sa as those mass-trained "combat Mages." They co from the Royal Mage Association, having received systematic education and years of honing, usually stationed at communication Towers or branches of the Mage Association, and when such a person cos personally, it’s clearly for an important matter.
"You should have stopped that train just now!" The black-robed Mage landed, looking ruefully at the magic train that had already crossed the border—it hadn’t entered full acceleration but was gliding along the tracks. Yet the border was like an invisible wall; once crossed, no matter how slow the train moved, it was beyond the Typhon people’s ability to catch it. "Damn it... there might be people secretly crossing the border on that train!"
The knight stationed at the sentry post widened his eyes, promptly glancing back in the train’s direction before turning back: "We already checked, the train only carries listed goods and registered crew mbers."
"Did you check it yourself?"
Facing the Mage’s stern gaze, the young Typhon officer was unfearing, he stood tall: "I checked it myself, the soldiers checked it once, and I checked it again myself."
"...Alright, let’s hope you didn’t make a mistake," the Mage sighed, "Listen, orders have co from Aldernon..."
...
The train stopped at the Cecil checkpoint, and soldiers began inspecting the cargo according to regulations, exchanging necessary clearance docunts with the train’s personnel. They were ticulous, showing no abnormality.
A commander, with an officer’s standard lt-cut sword at his waist, entered the carriage and took a glance inside.
Between the crates were nurous silent figures.
The commander nodded slightly before turning to leave.
The carriage doors closed again, returning the cargo compartnt to darkness.
"We’re safe," a voice ca through the darkness, "This is the Cecil checkpoint..."
"Just a bit more persistence," Yuri whispered, "We need to reach White Sand Station to disembark—there we’ll blend into the White Sand Mining Company’s employees, only then we truly set foot on Cecil’s land."
Wendy’s voice erged from beside: "You interfered ntally with the knight and soldiers during the boarding inspections, won’t it show a flaw?"
"No, that knight was rely a low rank," Yuri shook his head, "As for the stationed combat Mage... those mass-trained Mages can’t uncover high-level ntal spells. However, once Aldernon’s orders reach these border sentry posts, the situation will be different, and they’ll certainly send more powerful official Mages to inspect the checkpoints."
"That won’t concern us," a priest murmured, "Let’s just hope the fellow citizens crossing later will pass smoothly..."
In the darkness, Wendy glanced at the priest who lastly spoke, then gently closed her eyes without speaking.
After this train... how many more compatriots will cross this border, head to Cecil, ruled by "Wanderers from Outer Realm"?
As Yuri said... perhaps many will remain in Typhon.
The Wanderers from Outer Realm may be strong, but ultimately, those who truly understand and face this power are just a few archbishops. Besides the dream realm, the Wanderers from Outer Realm seem to only be mundane emperors in reality, coupled with the "loyalty" driven by power threats... it’s always frail.
The increasingly fragnted Eternal Sleepers, destined to splinter, will beco nourishnt for the two human empires, and where the future leads... who knows?
"Future" may be much like this train, rumbling along, heading further into the distance, and what exactly awaits in the distance can only be imagined by Wendy, Yuri, and the others right now.
In the dark, soone quietly muttered: "Cecil... We are coming..."
...
Morning sunlight spread over the grassy lawn before Cecil Palace, the fresh scent of soil wafting on the breeze. As usual, Gawain strolled between the paths, while Amber jogged alongside in her customary small steps.
This was Gawain’s calst mont of the day.
When the distant chanical clocktower sounded its first lodious and resonant chi, Gawain suddenly said: "Last night, the first successful informant erged."
Amber didn’t quite grasp it right away: "...Ah?"
Gawain casually reminded: "On the Eternal Sleepers’ side."
As the intelligence chief, Amber instantly understood what Gawain was referring to. She reflexively furrowed her brow: "So soon? Didn’t we predict that it would be at least a week before anyone successfully conveyed the information to Emperor Rosetta Augustus?"
"It seems now we’ve underestimated Typhon’s Royal Mage Association," said Gawain, shaking his head, "They found a way to effectively block the ntal network in a remarkably short ti, even if just on a small scale, it’s enough to clarify many things."
"...Looks like we need to prepare ahead too," Amber muttered while keeping pace with Gawain’s strides, "There’s a chance the number of Eternal Sleepers who successfully reach Cecil will be half of what we anticipated, fortunately, the core individuals and most technical data should be unaffected... The rest will fall into Emperor Rosetta Augustus’s hands."
"Certainly they will, and he will promptly start analyzing and applying the Eternal Sleepers’ technology. If he is comprehensive enough, he’ll also gather those intercepted within Typhon, trying to dig them out & integrate them into his Constructers’ Guild... Perhaps... No, he surely will," Gawain remarked in an indifferent tone, "They might soon find ways to refine communication Towers..."
Amber cast a skeptical glance at Gawain: "Is this also part of your plan?"
"It’s not my plan, it’s the inevitable developnt of events, neither gal III nor I have the power to reverse it, but fortunately I don’t mind letting things progress this way," Gawain replied casually, "As I’ve said long ago, we can’t expect our opponents to always stand still, especially opponents like Typhon—they are bound to advance rapidly, what we can do is grow slightly faster than them and increase the bumps in their road to progress."
Amber pursed her lips, making an effort to keep up with Gawain’s pace while muttering: "In short, it’s inevitable that the mastermind behind all this is exposed in front of Rosetta now."
Gawain fell silent for a couple of seconds upon hearing this, then softly exhaled and gazed into the distance: "Indeed..."
"Do we need to prepare a response to the public opinion quickly?" Amber asked, "Typhon might make a fuss about this—although I don’t think they have any sophisticated ans in ’public opinion’ either."
"You just handle it," Gawain replied casually, "You’ve got plenty of experience in this area."
"Understood."
Amber nodded, responding simply. Seeing that Gawain had no intention of saying more, she couldn’t help but ask another question: "Additionally, your involvent with the Eternal Sleepers cult in the Typhon Empire has been exposed. Over there, they should have so other reactions—the trade plan and ambassadorial plan we just agreed on..."
"Trust , business will continue as usual, ambassadors will still be dispatched, and peace remains as always. Typhon and the Cecil Clan will still be good neighbors," Gawain smiled, glancing at Amber. "As for the clandestine affairs... well, we’ve never lacked spies infiltrating each other. Your Intelligence Agency has been consistently supplying excellent agents, and the Typhon spies we’ve caught in the eastern territories and several northeastern provinces... how many are there now?"
Amber rolled her eyes, "Enough to build a city, and certainly enough to form a mining consortium."
"Isn’t that the case?" Gawain chuckled lightly, "It’s just the daily routine of great nations. Of course, Emperor Rosetta Augustus will be more cautious of us than ever, and in the subsequent comrcial orders, he will likely impose so restrictions. But overall, what does it matter? Behind the peace treaty, neither Typhon nor the Cecil Clan ever truly underestimated the other—it’s just that everyone remains tacit in the face of sufficient national interest."
Seeing the thoughtful expression on Amber’s face, Gawain rely sighed softly, falling silent as other thoughts occupied his mind.
The conversations between him and Amber had only touched on matters at the national level, but on a personal level, he wasn’t sure what Rosetta Augustus thought of him as a "Wanderer from Outer Realm."
Only one thing he could be sure of: he couldn’t expect soone like Emperor Rosetta to be fearful or panic-stricken when facing a so-called "Wanderer from Outer Realm."
More likely, that Typhon Emperor had never regarded him, this "ancient hero resurrected from the grave," as an ordinary human, whether he was a human or a ghost beneath that façade mattered little to the Typhon ruler.
Because Gawain himself held the sa mindset—
The Augustus Clan ruling Typhon had been entangled with a certain "curse" for two hundred years, and behind this curse, it always brought to mind the thought of a divine ntal corruption.
Behind Rosetta Augustus, too, there were his own "little secrets," and whether these secrets were related to divine ntal corruption, and which deity was specifically involved, though capable of arousing curiosity, held no sway over Gawain’s dealings with the Typhon Empire.
Because national interest demanded it.
"What are you thinking?" Amber’s voice suddenly broke in from the side, halting Gawain’s montary wandering thoughts. He turned his head toward the sound, seeing a pair of amber-colored eyes looking back at him, "Your expression suddenly beca so serious..."
Gawain, struck by the mont, spoke his mind: "Those who ascend to the position of ruler often can no longer be considered ’human.’
Amber was instantly stunned, scratching her face afterward, "Though I also feel that your position isn’t sothing just anyone could handle, the way you put it so bluntly leaves at a loss for words..."
Gawain: "...That’s not what I ant."
"But it’s close enough," Amber replied indifferently, waving a hand as she quickened her pace to keep up with Gawain, grumbling, "Can’t you walk a bit slower? Is this your idea of a casual stroll?"
Gawain looked down at his own strides, then glanced at Amber jogging beside him, "I thought you were coincidentally out for a morning run..."
Amber’s pointed ears perked up instantly, even showing veins, "...I’m trying to keep up with you!!"
Gawain: "..."
...
As a freight train from the Typhon Empire raced towards the White Sand Dunes in the sunlight, another train pressed down on newly-laid tracks, speeding towards the southern borders across the vast plains outside Pompeii City, along the gradually thawing and about-to-be-full Gorgon River.
Red-haired Asharena sat by the window, her eyes wide open, observing the swiftly passing trees and relay poles, her vision filled with curiosity.
She had been to this human nation before, to the southern borders of this land, twenty years ago.
Today, twenty years later, everything here had beco unfathomably fresh to her.
It had only been two decades.
The Dragon-branded Witch withdrew her gaze, looking at Sir Golosh sitting across from her, "See, this thing is indeed much faster than the Earth Dragon Beasts..."
The pack beasts that the Dragonborn had ridden here remained in the north, as those traditional forms of transportation had fulfilled their missions and were unsuitable for the climate and environnt of the southern nation. The Cecil Clan had prepared more convenient and advanced ans of transport for their guests. Initially, Sir Golosh had been quite skeptical of these rumbling machines, but it now seed that he was thoroughly enjoying them.
"I wonder how the Cecil Clan managed to create these things," Sir Golosh said, his tone filled with curiosity, "If they can operate in colder regions too, that would be quite sothing..."
"But getting them to navigate the northern mountains won’t be easy," Asharena said, "The Sacred Dragon Kingdom doesn’t have many plains."
"This is sothing the Dragonborn could solve, isn’t it?" Sir Golosh remarked with a smile, "The key lies in whether the Cecil Clan is willing to sell their technology, and if so, how they’ll sell it—judging from the attitude of your old acquaintance, they seem quite willing to export these new things, as long as the price is right."
"Sir Golosh, I never knew you were such a rchant," Asharena remarked, examining Sir Golosh up and down, "And when you ntioned ’old acquaintance,’ it seed like you were implying sothing."
Sir Golosh maintained a straight face, "That’s your illusion, Lady Asharena."
"I hope so," Asharena returned her gaze to the window, "Ah, we seem to be approaching a mountain pass among the ridges..."
User Comments
0 comments from readers