Chapter 1248 - 1247: Seas Change into Mulberry Fields

Chapter 1248: Chapter 1247: Seas Change into Mulberry Fields

The captured "breach."

Amon was not an expert in Magic, nor did his divine authority encompass explanations for these occult phenomena, yet that did not mean he lacked the capacity to learn and comprehend. In the days he spent in contact with neural networks and in the company of the Goddess of Magic, he had absorbed much cutting-edge knowledge, so with only a moment of thought he understood the meaning hidden in her words.

"You’re saying... these grains of dust should not be able to stably exist in the real world at all? That some part of their ’essence’ is in conflict with the laws that govern existence in reality?" He fixed his gaze on the dust phantoms bound within the Array, flickering madly like a broken signal, and with a hesitant, almost cautious tone posed his question to the Goddess of Magic beside him.

"Not only that," Emmina nodded slightly, her voice solemn, "these grains of dust vanish the moment the Observer disappears, which shows that there is a hard linkage between them and ’cognition’. When the Observer returns and they reappear, that indicates that there is a higher-order level of ’cognition’ serving as an ’anchor’ for them. When the Observer and the dust disappear together, it is that higher-order ’cognition’ which ensures that these grains still exist in some dimension that cannot be observed, and ensures that they can return..."

"...This is already approaching my blind spot of knowledge," Amon shook his head slightly, confusion filling his eyes of cast light, "but there is one thing I do understand: without your experimental protocol, ordinary people probably would never even imagine that these grains of dust could be like this..."

"Only when all Observers are unable to perceive these grains of dust do they truly disappear, and when the Observer returns, they immediately revert to their normal state... Under conventional experimental procedures, the technicians really would find it difficult to notice that such phenomena had ever occurred," Emmina said softly, and then she gently shook her head, "but this is not absolute. Mortals are very clever—once they have a line of thought, sooner or later they’ll devise experiments to verify the special properties of this Shadow Sand Dust. This is merely an Observer test."

"The difficulty lies in that ’line of thought’," Amon sighed, "if Lady Enya hadn’t reminded us, who would have thought to subject these grains of dust to an Observer test? Though I am a bit curious—how did Lady Enya see through it..."

"She was once the Dragonkin’s ’Goddess of the Night’; she knows the divine authorities of all gods, including those that touch upon dreams and illusion," Emmina said offhandedly. "With such vast breadth of experience, it’s not hard for her to sense the anomaly in this Shadow Sand Dust."

Amon seemed lost in thought. After several seconds he suddenly asked, "These are grains of dust Amber produced—what about those samples sent from Talronde? Do those ’genuine’ Shadow Sand Dust grains also possess this kind of contradiction?"

Emmina slowly shook her head. "Lady Enya has checked them. Those grains do not have this ’contradictory nature’... Of course, if we’re still unsure, we can bring those samples in for testing as well, but there aren’t nearly as many of them. Every single grain is exceptionally precious, and I would have to redesign the magic circle here from the ground up."

"In this area you’re the expert; you decide," Amon nodded, then couldn’t help but look again, curious, at the dust locked in place. "But to come back to it... what do you think is the reason these grains manifest such a bizarre state?"

"...I am not sure," Emmina mused, her tone slow and hesitant. "In my memory and understanding, it feels as though only one kind of situation could just barely match this phenomenon..."

"One kind of situation?" Amon turned back, looking at the eyes hidden behind her veil of illusory mist. "What kind of situation?"

"Dream-derived entities... That ought to fall within Nariteer and Duvalt’s domains, but I suspect even they have never seen an anomaly that occurs so directly in the real world, can even linger in reality, and deceive the Observer."

...

Gawain still remembered the first time he laid eyes on Talronde, the splendor that unfolded before him—he remembered the colossal energy field screen that shrouded the entire continent, remembered the lush ecological domes and the cities and factories awash in neon light, remembered the aerial traffic crisscrossing into nets over the urban sky, the intercity rails weaving like threads between buildings, those corporate mega-complex headquarters towering into the clouds, and the continuous palatial halls that rose on the mountaintops, bathed in radiance.

That was a scene of glory that even if one exhausted the imagination of all the bards and playwrights on the Loren Continent, it would still be beyond depiction—a vision that had spanned several eras, piled up the achievements of countless years of civilization, a sight so grand that even Gawain, this "satellite spirit," had marveled in awe.

The blue dragon and the White Dragon swept across the sky, soaring over the now-extinguished barrier walls. The fractured coastline was cast away into the darkness behind them, and a ravaged land rushed up to meet their gaze.

On the land stood molten, twisted ruins of cities and factories, along with palaces and sanctuaries that had collapsed and broken apart. The magnificent vistas that lived in Gawain’s memory had now taken on these unrecognizable forms. They lay quietly beneath the polar winds at the north pole, bathed in the starlight of the eternal night, wrapped in silence.

Amber had fallen silent sometime earlier. She walked to the edge of Melita Ponia’s back, carefully bracing herself against the keratin ridges along the dragon’s spine. She gazed far into the distance, at the broken remnants under the stars and night sky, as though striving to match them against certain scenes in her memory. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she failed in the end, and only a sigh full of emotion remained: "Ah... it’s all gone. Back then it was such a spectacular place."

"Yes, it’s all gone—and that’s just right for a new beginning," Melita’s voice came from ahead, tinged with laughter and release. "At the very least, at this moment, the fate of surviving on this land has finally returned to our own hands. Whether survival or death, whether rising or sinking into oblivion, it is now our own affair."

The Young dragon lying on Melita’s back had quieted too. The little one had never seen such a sight, nor did she know where her mother had brought her. It would take time before she could understand what kind of bond existed between this bare land and herself. For now, in this very moment, she was only a little startled and tense.

She lay behind Melita’s shoulder blades, her small claws gripping her mother’s scales tightly, craning her neck to look into the distance.

In the direction she was looking, a mountain range rose and fell in the dark. The slopes were riddled with hollows and even penetrating ravines left by the scouring of colossal plasma jets, and fragments of shattered palatial ruins lay scattered across the crystal-like, congealed hillsides.

Melita seemed to sense the little one’s movements behind her. She turned her head slightly, her long neck curving back, and said with a smile, "Do you see those palaces in the distance? Mommy used to live over there—though now it’s no longer habitable. Our new home is somewhere else."

"Are we going straight to Agondale? Or making a stop at Coastal Shire first?" Amber asked curiously. "I heard that you and Noletta are living in Coastal Shire now..."

"We’re going to Agondale, as agreed beforehand," Melita Ponia said at once. "Agondale also has a residence for me and Noletta—these days we’re short of everything except places to live."

Agondale... Gawain still remembered this city; it had been where he stayed during his last visit to Talronde, the place where he first came into contact with the advanced civilization hidden on this planet. It was also here that he had seen the rot and madness beneath the splendor of the Dragon Kingdom. Yet now, all those past scenes had scattered like dust in the wind; a newborn city stood upon the ruins of yesteryear. It was clearly incomparable to the palatial towers of the old days, but when he saw the construction sites bustling day and night, the dragons engaged in all kinds of work, the markets appearing along the rough streets, and the young dragons practicing flight above the city, he knew that this land’s rebirth in fire was only a matter of time.

Here he felt a familiar atmosphere, something he had once witnessed at the foot of the Dark Mountain Range. Tracing back even further, to seven hundred years ago, in the memories of Gawain Cecil, he had seen similar scenes on the frontier lands of the Anzu Kingdom.

A people who can persist in rebuilding and opening up such a wasteland, who hold fast to the pride of being a civilized society and refuse to sink into a state of brutal, predatory beasts ruled solely by might—such a people are bound to rise again.

The dragons of today prize pragmatism and efficiency, and Gawain likewise disliked cumbersome ceremony. Thus the welcome prepared in Agondale was solemn yet simple. After a brief reception to wash away the dust of travel, Melita Ponia and Noletta left first to settle their hatchlings and hand over some work, while Gawain and Amber remained in the new council hall of Agondale.

Gawain once more met that former "high-ranked Dragon Priest" who had once stood at the Dragon God’s side.

He had changed out of his splendid golden robes and the crown that symbolized theocracy. When he came to see Gawain now, he wore only a plain, durable robe of grey and white. There was a weariness in his expression that even a dragon could not fully conceal, yet the light deep in his eyes was keen and vigorous. A completely different aura, belonging to a "living man," radiated from him, and on his face there was a sincere smile.

In the modestly furnished receiving room, Gawain sat down with this Dragonkin leader. Amber stood behind him, and another Dragonkin girl with short black hair stood slightly behind Heragor.

"You are forever a friend of our dragons," Heragor began. "I truly didn’t expect that our second meeting would be under circumstances like these."

"Indeed. I remember our last meeting being quite recent," Gawain said with a note of emotion, his gaze taking in the humanoid dragon before him. "Yet it feels as if dozens of centuries have passed."

"Talronde has changed greatly," Heragor nodded slightly. "There’s no need to go into detail about conditions here—you should already be well informed. I heard Melita Ponia made a detour from the East Coast when she flew over; you must have seen the wastelands along the way, and what the safe zones carved out within them look like. What did you think?"

"...Providing aid to Talronde is one of the wisest decisions I’ve ever made," Gawain said candidly after a brief moment of thought. "At one time I worried whether the dragons, having undergone such upheaval, could truly hold out upon this wasteland; I worried whether the vast manpower and resources gathered by the alliance could actually be put to proper use amid this postwar ruin. But now all those worries have vanished—I can see that dragons are not only my personal friends, but trustworthy members of the alliance as well."

His words came from the heart, without any intent of blind flattery—and even the proud dragons clearly took satisfaction in such sincere praise. A faint smile appeared on Heragor’s face; the Ancient Titan nodded lightly. "We still face no small number of hardships here, but at least we’ve succeeded in keeping society above the red line of mere ’survival.’ So long as our people can firmly plant their feet in the safe zones, we can slowly clear the dangers and monsters from the hazardous areas, and even restore many productive activities. In this process, the aid you helped marshal for us has played an unimaginably great role—without that food, medicine, and industrial raw material, nearly one-third of our compatriots probably wouldn’t have endured the winter that followed the disappearance of the Great Shield."

"Talronde’s stabilization is good for the entire alliance," Gawain nodded, and then smoothly shifted the topic, ending the mutually complimentary exchange—pleasant as such words were, he had come here for serious business. "Let’s talk first about the Tower of the Inversion Tide and that Great Adventurer; that’s why I’m here."

"Mr. Modir is currently lodging in the adventurers’ town. I’ve already sent people to make arrangements; you’ll be able to see him shortly," Heragor said immediately. "Lady Victoria has been at his side these past days. Perhaps some kind of ’power of bloodline’ truly is at work, for that Great Adventurer’s condition has been quite stable recently—there have been no further incidents of ’crossing the boundary in dreams.’ Even so, I still don’t dare let him leave the environs of Agondale casually, for fear of unforeseen events.

"As for the Tower of the Inversion Tide... the monitoring team we dispatched to the Western Coast only just sent in a report today. That tower’s state remains perfectly normal—for all appearances, it simply stands in the sea, harmless to man and beast. No sentient beings have approached it, and nothing has come out of it.

"Yet my concern about that tower has only grown with each passing day... I know I shouldn’t invoke something as vague as ’intuition’ as evidence, but I still have to say it—my intuition... is sounding the alarm."

"Your intuition..." Gawain said in a low voice, his expression especially grave. "You were once a Demigod; your ’intuition’ is no simple thing. Tell me, you haven’t sent anyone into that tower to investigate, have you?"

"No." Heragor shook his head. "I’ve recently intensified monitoring of the Tower of the Inversion Tide. The observation posts along the Western Coast have been increased from one to three, and our nearest line of surveillance has advanced to within six nautical miles of the tower. But to this day we have not allowed any of our personnel to set foot upon that Steel Island. After all, this involves the Inversion Tide. Though the Dragonkin have already broken free of the Irreversible God’s chains, our own strength has been drastically reduced. With only the forces we’ve deployed on the Western Coast, we still have no way to confront that tower head-on."

"Why six nautical miles?" Amber, standing behind Gawain, suddenly asked with some curiosity.

"That..." Heragor hesitated, then spoke with some reluctance. "That is the limit ’He’ once personally told me. If one crosses the boundary of six nautical miles, the contamination seeping out from the tower will have a chance to actively affect the mind."

"Something Enya tested out, then... That should be reliable. She’s very dependable in this field." Gawain nodded slightly. Just as he was about to ask further questions, a knock sounded from the side. A Dragonkin Attendant entered the receiving room after being granted permission.

"Leader, Mr. Modir and Lady Victoria have arrived."