Chapter 1012: The Spiral Begins

Pei Dinan left the room. Rosetta stood still for a moment before breaking the silence, almost as if speaking to himself, “Everything is indeed as you said.”

No sooner had he spoken than an invisible wind stirred through the empty study. From all directions came a chorus of overlapping whispers, as if multiple voices were layered together: “Of course—perhaps our years together haven’t been so pleasant, but there’s one thing you must admit: when it comes to the realm of the divine, the knowledge I’ve given you has never been flawed… Once a partnership is established, I have always been sincere.”

Rosetta narrowed his eyes slightly. To an outsider, there might have been nothing to see, but through his gaze, he perceived tiny points of starlight creeping across the walls and floor. Within the purple-black shadows, countless unseen eyes seemed to watch him. The floor-to-ceiling window beside him let in the glow of dusk, casting shifting light and shadow like drifting mist.

Amid this chaotic interplay of light and shadow, an abstract eye—formed from twisting, curved lines—slowly opened before him. Its hollow pupil stared coldly, utterly devoid of humanity.

Any ordinary person who caught even a glimpse of this would be driven mad by the endless knowledge contained within that eye. But to Rosetta and the members of the Augustus family, this eye was an old acquaintance.

“Sincerity…” Rosetta murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You should know well enough that I’ve never truly trusted your sincerity… For mortals, trusting a ‘being’ like you comes at too high a cost.”

“…That’s true,” the eye fell silent for a moment, then surprisingly shed its usual tone of sly temptation and spoke with earnest agreement. “I must admit, these many years haven’t been easy for either of us… I know the price your family paid to host ‘me,’ but whether you believe it or not, that was never my intention.”

Rosetta said nothing, quietly listening as the eye continued its soliloquy.

“…From the moment I was born, and the other gods as well, we bore no malice toward you mortals. Yet our very existence is a threat to you—like fire that burns anyone who draws near, though the fire itself is not to blame. Descendant of Augustus, if you can set aside prejudice, you should know that what I say is true.

“So, I don’t expect you to ‘trust’ me, because even I don’t believe I can act without causing harm in what’s to come… Humans should not trust the mercy of nature, nor should you trust a divine fragment parasitizing your family…

“But on that premise, we still share a common goal… Descendant of Augustus, we share a common goal.”

Rosetta Augustus finally broke his silence, speaking softly: “To end all of this.”

“Yes. To end it all, to end this torturous relationship for both sides,” the eye said calmly, floating midair. Its countless curves and the surrounding starlight writhed slowly, carrying a faint tremor of gentleness. “Relax. This curse is finally coming to an end… Now is the time to think of a better future. You and your family will be freed from the nightmare, and I will gain my freedom. Do not fear or resist this—I promise you, I will stand with you and your empire… Aren’t you about to lose your long-standing guardian god? Then let me take that place. The power of dreams will become your new shield…”

Rosetta was silent for several seconds, as if seriously weighing the possibility. After a long pause, he nodded slightly. “Once the dust settles, I will consider it carefully.”

“Of course, of course. You must be cautious, or I wouldn’t respect you so much. Consider it carefully. The choice is yours. Whatever your answer, our cooperation will stand…”

The eye’s voice gradually faded, and the shifting light and shadow in the room slowly returned to normal. As the starlight and dusk glow dimmed, Rosetta’s surroundings reverted to the familiar study.

He calmly stared into the now-empty air, not moving his gaze for several minutes, as if the eye still hovered there…

…

“That’s the latest intelligence just relayed by General Philip,” Hetty reported gravely to Gawain, standing before him. “In this battle, the World Serpent armored train was completely neutralized. The recovered wreckage is basically beyond repair. Another armored train suffered heavy damage; repairs may take until spring. The losses among the Dragon Riders are still being tallied—blizzard conditions caused a significant number of personnel to go missing. Search and rescue operations are underway.”

Gawain sat behind his desk, listening intently to Hetty’s report. This sudden frontline update shattered the stalemate that had persisted for days, disrupting some of his plans. Moreover, the scale of the Typhon forces’ sudden offensive hinted at something unusual.

“So… the Typhons deployed a large-scale ‘miracle’,” he finally said after Hetty finished. “Due to some celestial-level disturbance or other cause, this phenomenon bypassed our detection systems?”

“Yes,” Hetty nodded seriously. “Until the extraordinary event appeared amid the blizzard, the magical detection devices on the armored trains and Dragon Riders showed no response. Then the devices were completely disrupted, and the enemy launched a full-scale assault. General Philip believes this is due to the unique nature of the ‘miracle.’ Celestial miracles inherently evade detection, and the Typhons may have also developed countermeasures against our technology. Given their advanced magical expertise, such counter-spells are very likely.”

“Our detection tech still needs improvement,” Gawain said gravely. “Send all battlefield data and recovered Typhon equipment to the research institutes at Changfeng and Solin. We need to figure out exactly what they used to stage this surprise attack. Also, what about the Dragon Riders’ casualties?”

Hetty recalled: “Two Dragon Rider mercenaries were killed, sixteen severely wounded, the rest lightly injured. The casualty report has been sent to the responsible officials in the Holy Dragon Duchy.”

Gawain blinked. “The entire Dragon Rider force wounded?”

War always meant death. Even with their formidable combat skills, the Dragon Riders couldn’t avoid losses against the overwhelming Typhon air forces. He had anticipated some casualties when recruiting them, but he hadn’t expected every single one to be injured on their first deployment. Not a single one escaped unscathed? Were the Typhons really that strong?

“According to General Philip, it’s because the Dragon Riders’ fighting style is… particularly reckless,” Hetty explained, anticipating his question. “Their tactics are wild and fierce, with no regard for injury, very different from their training. Our forces couldn’t provide effective cover, and many Dragon Riders resorted to close combat in the final stages after their weapons were damaged. They even used enemy griffon riders as battering rams against the mountains… It’s impossible they wouldn’t be hurt.”

Gawain was speechless.

Hetty cautiously asked, “Ancestor?”

“I understand,” Gawain sighed softly, waving a hand. “In any case, the ‘Dragon Rider’ card in our hand has been revealed to the Typhons. There’s no need to hold back anymore. The aerial conflict between us and Typhon will likely escalate. The Dragon Riders and Dragon Cavalry will become key factors on the battlefield.”

After a brief pause, he asked, “What about the damage assessment on the Typhon side?”

“There’s no precise conclusion yet,” Hetty replied. “The enemy exhibited a strange phenomenon of continuous ‘resurrections’ during the blizzard, and the severe weather complicated damage assessment. But one thing is certain—the Typhons suffered heavier losses than us. According to post-battle aerial observers, the entire mountain ridge and canyon were littered with burning wreckage and corpses of personnel and griffons. The enemy deployed at least two to three thousand griffon riders against our air forces, and after the Dragon Riders entered the fray, that entire force was wiped out…”

Hetty shook her head with a sigh. “Unfortunately, we also suffered our greatest losses since the war began. The World Serpent is our most powerful armored train. Its destruction leaves a gap that won’t be easy to fill. Zero remains on defense around Winter Wolf Fort, and the War Citizen’s weapon systems still have issues, so it can’t be used for frontline attacks yet…”

“Temporary losses,” Gawain said with a shrug. “Mariland saved all the experienced technicians and soldiers. Once the next train rolls off the production line, the World Serpent’s combat power will be restored immediately. But the Typhons lost elite troops that take over a decade to train.” He sighed, a hint of helplessness in his tone. “The only headache is that the Typhons seem willing to pay any price.”

Leaning back in his chair, he wore a thoughtful expression.

A celestial-level ‘miracle’… This was something he hadn’t considered before. Or rather, he had suspected the Typhons might use some large-scale strategic magic to influence the battle, but never imagined it would be this kind of ‘miracle.’ The frontline intelligence clearly showed traces of divine power, which gave him an uneasy feeling.

“Ancestor?” Hetty noticed his face darkening and asked hesitantly, “Did you realize something?”

“Since the war began, have the Typhons ever used such large-scale war god magic?” Gawain asked.

“Large-scale war god magic…” Hetty thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Only small-scale appearances of war god priests on limited battlefields, mostly suicide squads… This is the first time we’ve seen such a massive divine miracle. It would require participation from hundreds, maybe even more, high-ranking priests.”

“Yes. Hundreds of high-ranking priests, and it must be a very formal, grand sacred ritual,” Gawain said slowly, his expression grave. “Hetty, something’s wrong.”

“Wrong?” Hetty blinked, then realization dawned. “You mean… using the war god’s power so recklessly…”

“Yes, without any reservations,” Gawain nodded. “We all know the truth behind this war. Rosetta knows it too. If this were a normal conflict, using the power of the War God on the battlefield would be perfectly reasonable. But this is a divine catastrophe. To wield such godly power on this scale now is extremely dangerous. Since the war began, the Typhon forces have been deliberately avoiding this. They’ve split those corrupted, fanatical priests into small groups, preventing them from casting large-scale divine spells, wearing them down through attrition… all to stop too much of the War God’s power from spilling into our world. Yet in this latest operation… they pulled off such a massive ‘miracle.’”

“Could it have been an unauthorized move by the frontline commander?” Hetty asked instinctively, but then shook her head. “No, that’s unlikely.”

“Of course not. If the Typhon frontline commanders were that reckless, if the frontline troops were that out of control, Rosetta Augustus would have been ousted long ago, at the very start of the war,” Gawain said, shaking his head. “This kind of operation had to have Rosetta’s approval—more than that, it was probably his direct order.”

Hetty’s eyes widened slightly. For a moment, she couldn’t grasp what the Typhon ruler was planning. “Why would he do that?”

Gawain didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the map ahead, his mind racing—tracking recent shifts in frontline control, the forces each side had committed so far, Typhon’s military movements, the intelligence Solderin and his Iron Rangers had sent from enemy territory… All these clues wove together in his mind like invisible threads. Finally, he sensed he’d uncovered the key.

The chilling realization made a cold sweat break out on him.

“Ancestor?” Hetty’s voice was laced with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I think I’ve figured out what Rosetta intends,” Gawain said, rising from behind the table. “…And it’s truly—”

Hetty looked at him, stunned and confused. “What does Rosetta want to do? You mean…?”

“This war has an ultimate goal. It’s not about maintaining the status quo, nor simply about wiping out a rogue church. We’ve all been considering the mildest possibilities. But Rosetta… he wants to do something far more drastic,” Gawain said, taking a deep breath. “He wants to pull the War God into this world.”

“Pull the War God into this world?!” Hetty gasped. “He’s mad! Does he intend to unleash an uncontrollable god to destroy everything?!”

“No…” Gawain slowly shook his head. “From what I understand, he might be planning to… kill it.”

(End of chapter)