Chapter 1034: A New Beginning

Cold starlight spanned an endless distance, arriving here from the depths of the cosmos. Its pale glow washed over the battered hull of the Talrond, as if draping the ancient starship in a shimmering silver veil.

At the massive ship’s rear, the reactor chamber—severely damaged—had split open, revealing a gaping breach. The damage control system had already severed the power conduits to that section. Part of the extinguished reactor core was exposed to the vacuum of space, and some leaked fluids boiled off into vapor, refracting the brilliant sunlight from the distant horizon into a shimmering rainbow.

A faint flicker pulsed from the engines before finally dying out completely. This vessel, built nearly 1.87 million years ago, employed technology utterly alien to this era. It wasn’t just equipped with anti-gravity systems; it also relied on a working fluid engine to provide extra thrust during liftoff—a technique learned from the ancient Pathfinders. Now, all these once-advanced technologies were one by one fading into obsolescence, their creations slowly “dying.”

“Our main engine’s dead,” Baroghel said, slapping the control panel in front of him with a heavy hand. “The attitude control thrusters still have a little juice left. I’m doing my best to slow us down and keep us in a high orbit. We’ll drift off eventually, but until then, we might as well enjoy the view.” He sighed. “Ah, this console’s shot too… I can’t get any readings from Reactor Three, but I doubt it’s in any better shape.”

“You said the main engine would hold for thirty minutes under your command,” Heragor glanced at the chief engineer. “It hasn’t even been twenty.”

“That was just rhetoric—a morale booster,” Baroghel replied casually. “Getting the engine to hold out for the final climb was already a miracle, especially after this old beast spent over a million years soaking in the ocean.”

“We all know it hasn’t aged a bit in that million years,” Heragor said offhandedly. Then he noticed Andal sitting quietly, deep in thought. Curious, he asked, “Andal, what’s on your mind?”

“Counting my heartbeat,” Andal answered softly. “I haven’t noticed it in years… The blood pump and circulatory system have kept this body running so smoothly that I almost forgot I still have a primitive heart inside me. And it’s still beating today.”

“I thought you’d had that heart removed long ago,” Heragor raised an eyebrow in surprise. “For a short-lived black dragon, it’s incredible your original heart hasn’t failed yet.”

“I find it unbelievable too—truly unbelievable,” Andal said after a pause. Then he suddenly frowned. “Do you smell that?”

“You just noticed?” Baroghel stood up, floating slowly in the zero gravity of the control hall. “It’s coming from the gas storage bay. Our filtration system’s offline, and some exhaust gases have leaked into the life support ducts. Don’t worry, it won’t kill us right away—dragons are tough.”

“Well, that’s ‘good news,’” Andal shook his head. “How much longer can we survive?”

“Hard to say. Depends on how many leaks the hull has and whether the reactors blow early,” Baroghel shrugged. “The consoles are dead, so I have no way to monitor the ship’s status. But looking on the bright side, we just bought ourselves a few more minutes. This is the first time dragons have stepped into the stars by their own power. Every second we spend here should be recorded in history.”

Silence fell over the hall. Heragor drifted toward the polymer dome overhead, gazing out into the vast starfield. The stars seemed so distant—though he had left the earth far behind, traveled so far from home, the distance to those stars felt unchanged. The Talrond was like a paper boat folded by children, filled with their ambitious dreams and grand plans for a voyage. In reality, it was just tossed into a shallow puddle at the doorstep, drifting a few meters before soaking through and ready to sink.

Yet even so, this was the first step mortals had taken—like a baby’s first attempt to walk. Maybe just a wobbly shuffle, maybe a fall the next moment, but here he was, bathed in starlight.

There was nothing to regret.

Suddenly, a glow appeared at the edge of his vision. Heragor looked up in surprise and saw the planet’s edge slowly moving beneath the dome. The ship, powerless, was rolling gently on its inertia—and in that roll, it greeted a magnificent sunrise.

The giant sun rose behind the planet, a vast corona of dazzling light slowly ascending. The star, with its rich wood-grain patterns, crept into Heragor’s view, more spectacular and awe-inspiring than any sunrise seen from the surface.

The entire control hall was bathed in radiant sunlight. Even with the light-blocking coatings still in effect, the brilliance stung the eyes of the three humanoid dragons. Andal and Baroghel instinctively joined Heragor by the dome, gazing silently at the unprecedented sunrise for a long time.

Here, there was no sense of confinement.

…

On the continent of Loren, inside the Winterwolf Fortress command center.

“No response from the Mithril Ring? No contact with the Mithril Vault?” Amber looked at High King Gawain in surprise. After confirming the situation, she muttered, “This shouldn’t be happening… Two problems with the Mithril Ring in such a short time? Those dragons’ technology is so advanced—they should be able to fix a communication system.”

“For centuries, the Mithril Vault has never failed like this,” Gawain’s expression grew serious. “‘Never fail’ is the dragons’ hallmark.”

“Maybe it’s just a glitch they haven’t fixed yet,” Amber speculated uncertainly. Having traveled to Talrond with Gawain before, she knew the dragon realm’s reality better than most. The Mithril Vault, shrouded in mystery to the world, held fewer secrets for her. “After all, their tech is ancient and vast. Maybe that thing called ‘Omega’ is acting up…”

Gawain listened to Amber’s optimism but didn’t relax. He looked down at the silent Mithril Ring in his hand and couldn’t help recalling his last meeting with the dragon goddess Enya.

No contact with the Mithril Vault. No word from Melita Penita… At any other time, this might only raise a few questions, nothing serious. But after the recent journey to Talrond and the outbreak of the War God’s calamity, Gawain couldn’t help but worry. A vague unease crept into his heart—unfounded, yet stubbornly persistent.

These events were too coincidental. The divine upheaval affected the entire world. Enya and the dragons had always watched the shifting gods of humanity. Now the War God had fallen, and Talrond had almost simultaneously gone dark to Loren… What was happening in that distant dragon realm?

Lost in thought, Gawain calmed his mind and focused. An invisible link formed in his consciousness—a view from space looking down on the land appeared. Loren and the surrounding seas came into focus. He carefully shifted the satellite’s gaze northward, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.

But the faulty satellite’s view was limited. Beyond the Saint Dragon Principality’s coastal peninsula, nothing was visible.

Disappointed, Gawain prepared to disconnect the feed. Just before the link broke, he noticed faint flashes at the northern edge of the image.

The flashes were brief, followed by smaller bursts from the same direction. At first, Gawain thought it was sunlight reflecting off planetary clouds, causing lens flares. But soon he realized it was no natural phenomenon. The flashes ceased, and the satellite’s image steadied, though faint energy interference patterns lingered at the top edge, refusing to fade.

Minutes later, Gawain ended the satellite feed.

He still couldn’t see beyond the view’s edge, but now he was almost certain—something major had happened on Talrond.

Amber noticed Gawain’s sudden distraction. She wasn’t surprised; she’d grown used to his occasional “wandering mind.” Realizing he was “traveling beyond” again, she instinctively took up her role as his guard. After a long while, sensing subtle changes in his breathing and movements, she leaned in and asked, “Hey, did you discover something?”

Gawain kept many secrets, and these strange moments of absent-mindedness were among them. Amber was curious but never pressed. She only knew that after these episodes, he often gained some mysterious “insight” he sometimes shared.

“Talrond’s in trouble, I think,” Gawain said vaguely, unable to explain the satellite vision. “But it probably won’t affect us here…”

He looked up as the busy command center came into view.

Officers and clerks scrambled to process intelligence from the front lines. Communications and dispatch systems ran at full power. Medical units had just arrived from the rear, assembling in the open yard. Wounded soldiers and the bodies of the fallen were being carried along the wide avenues flanking the fortress. Talrond was far away, but the mess left by the divine calamity was right here.

Footsteps approached. Gawain turned to see the blond Solderin walking toward him. The high-ranking ranger saluted solemnly. “Winterwolf just received new contact—the Typhon want to begin formal peace talks.”

“We’re finally going back to the negotiating table,” Gawain exhaled softly. “Did they say when and where they want to hold the talks?”

“They only said as soon as possible on timing. As for the location…” Solderin hesitated briefly before continuing, “They want to meet at Treaty Hold.”

“Ah, the symbol of peace between the two nations… though it’s a bit ironic to mention it at a time like this,” Gavain’s expression grew somewhat complicated when he heard the place name. Then he chuckled softly. “But if we look at the current actual control zones on both sides, Winterwolf Keep is already in Cecile’s hands. That means the Treaty Fort, which originally stood as a buffer between Winterwolf Keep and Longwind Fortress, is now effectively under Cecile’s full control… Don’t the Typhons mind this?”

Solderin nodded. “They don’t mind. In fact, they’ve emphasized that point—they’re willing to hold negotiations within Cecile’s controlled territory to show their sincerity.”

Gavain raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Because they were the ones who ‘started the war’ first… Alright. Even if they don’t mind negotiating on Cecile’s turf, we should still be fair about this. Bringing a neighboring nation’s delegation into your own military zone for ‘peace talks’ is a show of dominance. Regardless of the outcome, from a historical perspective, the fairness and legitimacy of such an agreement could be questioned by future generations. We need to pick a more suitable location—some neutral ground, or at least somewhere that doesn’t involve disputed territory. That would be more prudent. Do either of you have suggestions?”

His gaze settled on Amber and Solderin—not a random choice. Solderin was the commander of the Iron Rangers and a seasoned high-ranking scout who had been active in both Old Ansar and Typhon for seven centuries. He had witnessed the trials and changes of this land firsthand. Despite being a non-human, his familiarity with the region surpassed many humans, and he was thoughtful and experienced—a perfect advisor for this moment. As for Amber…

Well, she was the head of intelligence. When it came to serious matters, she was at least reliable… probably.

The elf and the half-elf both fell into thought. A ceasefire agreement between two human empires was no small matter—especially when the truth behind this ‘war’ was a divine catastrophe. This gave the event extraordinary symbolic and historical weight, so it demanded careful consideration.

They quickly sifted through their memories, searching for a suitable location. Amber was the first to speak up. “Why not just set up a new camp right in the middle of the battlefield? Signing the treaty on the battlefield itself would give it more weight.”

“I considered that,” Gavain replied, “but beyond symbolism, we have to think practically. The Winter Keep line was shattered, and the whole area is still dangerous. The magical fallout and the remnants left by the war god will take a long time to clear. It’s not a suitable environment for negotiations. Plus, the main battlefield is closer to the Typhon side, which complicates things.”

“Then what about off the land?” Amber thought for a moment. “The Winterwind hasn’t returned yet. We could hold the talks on the ship—there are no territorial disputes between Cecile and Typhon on the ocean.”

Gavain was a little surprised by the half-elf’s suggestion, but after a moment’s thought, he shook his head. “A warship is essentially floating territory. Having the Typhons come aboard our ship is no different from holding talks in Cecile’s controlled zone. Besides, the ship currently holds many technical secrets that we can’t risk exposing to the Typhons just yet.”

Both of Amber’s suggestions were rejected, and she puffed out her cheeks, thinking hard. But before she could speak again, Solderin seemed to have an idea.

“I do have a suggestion,” the high-ranking scout said, looking at Gavain. “Do you remember? There’s an elven outpost on the wasteland border…”

(End of chapter)