Chapter 1043: North and South

Under a clear, cloudless winter night sky, stars twinkled brightly. The starlight, traveling from distant reaches of space, filtered through the expansive floor-to-ceiling glass window, casting a faint silver glow across Gawain’s room. The shimmering light swept over the furnishings, leaving long shadows stretching across the floor. Wrapped in his pajamas, Gawain stood before the window, tilting his head upward, his gaze fixed on the vast night sky for a long while.

He was fully awake now, certain beyond doubt that what he had just experienced was no dream. The crisp, cold night sharpened his senses even further. At the same time, memories of the satellite footage he had just received flickered through his mind.

In the somewhat distorted surveillance images, he had seen several vague shadows. One was closest—a shape resembling some kind of flying craft, darting swiftly past the satellite. Whether it was a trick of the eye or not, Gawain couldn’t shake the feeling that this thing was moving furtively, almost sneaky. The other shadows were farther away; some appeared triangular, while the last one was enormous. Its outline stirred a flood of associations in Gawain’s mind.

“What on earth is that thing…?”

He muttered under his breath, then refocused his concentration, reaching out mentally to the monitoring satellite in space.

The connection was smooth. As he concentrated, Gawain felt his perspective shift to the satellite’s altitude. He “opened his eyes” within the satellite’s optical sensors, scanning the area in search of those uninvited visitors. Yet, within the satellite’s limited field of view, he found nothing.

Perhaps those things had already left. It couldn’t have been a hallucination—the footage was real, and satellite surveillance simply didn’t produce illusions.

After a moment’s thought, Gawain switched his mental link to a different system. A brief dizziness passed over him as he arrived at a higher vantage point with a broader view—he had entered the monitoring system of the Celestial Station.

The Celestial Station’s perspective differed from that of the satellite and offered greater control. Gawain hoped it had recorded more details, though he didn’t hold his breath.

Fortunately, his hope was not in vain. While reviewing recent footage from the Celestial Station, a massive shadow suddenly flashed across the screen.

Gawain immediately paused the image and painstakingly rewound frame by frame. After some effort, he finally caught a clearer silhouette. Seeing the shape of that colossal shadow confirmed the suspicions he had formed when viewing the blurry satellite images.

It was… an extraordinarily strange giant dragon, constructed of machinery, its body sheathed in a sleek alloy shell that combined precision engineering with organic features. Beneath its wings hung engine clusters.

Even Gawain, who prided himself on a vivid imagination, had never envisioned anything like this.

After double-checking the surveillance records, Gawain disconnected from the space systems and stood by the large window, his mind swirling with thoughts.

Something had appeared in space… The shock hit him almost as hard as when he first learned of the godslayer battles recorded on the Eternal Stone Tablet. Since rising from the grave, he rarely felt such tension, such unease, even a touch of helplessness. Now, confirming that one of those things resembled a “mechanical giant dragon,” his anxiety was compounded by a jumble of wild speculations. He thought of Talrond, suddenly cut off from contact; of Melita Pernia, whose situation was unclear; of the dragon goddess Enya, who had seemed off before departing. His mind raced with countless guesses and worries…

Whatever had happened in Talrond, whatever was unfolding in space, at least tonight in Cecil City… Gawain found himself unusually sleepless.

…

As the first rays of dawn bathed the lush ancestral forest, the magnificent and ancient Elven Empire gradually awoke from the night’s embrace.

Deep within the forest lay the Elven royal city, basking in morning light. This beautiful city, with its gleaming white walls and streamlined rooftops, was like a dazzling gem nestled among the dense trees. Houses stood tightly packed, connected by slender, high-strength bridges spanning between districts. A shimmering river wound through the city, and at its midpoint, the pure white Elven Royal Court hovered above the water, supported by 177 curved, rib-like arches, suspended in midair, overlooking the entire city.

On a bridge at the highest point of the Royal Court, Belsethia Morningstar walked slowly along the royal walkway inlaid with tiny, elongated crystals. Her senior attendants and trusted court ministers followed closely behind.

A gentle breeze blew in from the forest, and a low humming sound drifted through the sky. Belsethia looked up to see a massive shadow slowly passing overhead in the western sky—the Celestial Sanctuary was cruising above the royal city at low speed. From this angle, she could see the underside of the ancient sanctuary: a band of high-strength alloy armor lined with one anti-gravity engine after another. Some engines were dark, others emitted steady pale blue or faint white halos. Streams of magical energy flowed through the sanctuary’s base like blood pulsing through arteries.

“Has the routine maintenance of the Celestial Sanctuary finally finished…” the Silver Queen murmured softly. “It really took a long time this year… winter is almost over.”

High Arcanist Verania Silverstar, walking just behind her, responded promptly, “Yes, this time we attempted to enhance the sanctuary’s core power using the magical network power units and arcane focusing devices shared by the Cecilians. This required dismantling and modifying the deep power chambers—making the project larger and more time-consuming than in previous years.”

“A bold overhaul, met with many objections, but thankfully it all went smoothly in the end,” Belsethia nodded. “Now those dissenting voices have finally quieted.”

“I can understand those who opposed opening the deep power chambers,” the high arcanist said thoughtfully. “Like me, they are experienced scholars, but more cautious. They recognize the value of human-developed magitech, but recklessly altering the sanctuary’s core structure carries great risks. Their concern was that the risks might spiral out of control.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t blame them. Their intentions were to protect the empire’s treasures,” Belsethia smiled, her gaze following the Celestial Sanctuary as it passed over the city. “For the past two years, I’ve spent nearly half my time sitting on the ‘Throne of Dominion.’ The agonized roars of those ancient machines kept me awake at night. Knowing their suffering can now be eased is truly a relief. Arcanist, the modifications have been effective, haven’t they?”

“Not enough to restore the sanctuary’s former glory, but they have slowed the decline of the core power system. As you can see, the additional energy units have relieved pressure on nearly all systems, especially giving some of the severely aged anti-gravity engines a chance to rest. This means we have an opportunity for more thorough repairs,” Verania smiled. The esteemed arcanist was clearly in good spirits. “I can’t yet guarantee a full restoration, but it’s a promising start.”

“So our technological cooperation with Cecil was a wise decision—humans are more creative, and they’ve found a path no one else has,” Belsethia said, stopping in her tracks. “Now, we should respond to the other invitation they sent us recently.”

Standing just behind Belsethia, Imperial Chancellor Valendian Goldvale spoke quietly, “You mean the invitation to witness the peace treaty signing between Cecil and Typhon at Sentinel Outpost 112 in the northeast…”

“And to join the ‘Alliance of Civilized Nations,’” the Silver Queen glanced at her chancellor. “That’s the more important matter.”

“…The council has discussed it, but there are still differing opinions,” the chancellor chose his words carefully. “Mainly about whether this unprecedented alliance—comprising various races and nations—is stable and reliable; whether Gawain Cecil’s promises are feasible; and whether the benefits, risks, and responsibilities we would assume by joining are balanced. Especially the last point—the council’s debate has been quite…”

“Arrogant,” Belsethia said flatly.

The chancellor looked surprised. “…Your Majesty?”

“Simply arrogance,” Belsethia replied. “For seven centuries, the Silver Empire has been the strongest power on this continent. We have taken on the role once held by the ancient Gondor Empire, dominating many affairs. This has ingrained itself in many minds, making it difficult for them to accept that leadership might shift to others.”

“…Your assessment is fair, but perhaps a bit harsh,” the chancellor said with a helpless smile. “Most council members still prioritize the empire’s interests.”

“Of course—that’s their premise, and I trust them for it,” Belsethia nodded. “So I believe they will reach a decision soon. I won’t rush them. But you, Valendian, I want to hear your thoughts.”

The chancellor considered briefly, then looked up. “I lean toward accepting the Cecilians’ invitation—not just accepting, but actively aligning ourselves with this new alliance. We should demonstrate the Silver Empire’s influence and strength during its formation to secure a significant position within it.”

“Oh?” Belsethia raised an eyebrow, surprised. “I didn’t expect you to take this so seriously.”

Valendian paused before carefully choosing his words. “Over the past two years, the Gaoling Kingdom has established trade routes with the Typhon Empire, and all commercial regions have shown incredible growth. Meanwhile, we’ve been exchanging economic and technological knowledge with both Typhon and Cecil. You’ve seen the results firsthand—signs point to a reorganization of the entire Loren continent’s order. The once fragmented human nations are rebuilding close ties, and this time, even the dwarves, orcs, and other western races, as well as the northern dragonborn, are being drawn into this new order…

“This new order is already taking shape, and its momentum is irreversible. Especially now that Cecil and Typhon have chosen peace after war, the last barriers to north-south and east-west integration on Loren have been removed. For the Silver Empire, we cannot recklessly disrupt this trend, nor can we remain unaffected. Since the old tradition of isolation must change, we might as well join in. With the empire’s influence, we can secure a key role in this new alliance and maintain the Silver Empire’s firm position in the continent’s southern regions…”

Belsethia listened intently to Valendian’s reasoning. Though he hadn’t gone into great detail—after all, they were on the royal walkway outside the court, not in the council chamber—he had clearly outlined the underlying distribution of interests.

A smile finally appeared on the queen’s face.

“Very good, Valendian,” she said approvingly, nodding. “You’ve expressed yourself well.”

“Just some immature opinions,” Valendian lowered his head. “Besides, quite a few council members actually share similar views with me.”

“That shows there are still many wise people in our council,” Belsethia said with a smile. Then she shifted her tone. “In any case, regardless of how their discussions turn out, one thing is certain—the peace agreement between Cecil and Typhon needs to be witnessed by the elves. We did a similar witnessing seven hundred years ago, and there’s no reason to refuse this time either.”

“Yes,” Valendian replied. “That point has already been agreed upon.”

“Then let’s start preparing right away,” Belsethia nodded. “I will personally go to Outpost 112 to serve as the witness.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Verania Silverstar, standing nearby, instinctively showed a look of surprise. But Valendian, the chief minister, remained calm—he seemed to have anticipated Belsethia’s decision from the start and had already made the necessary arrangements. He simply nodded. “Understood. I will take care of it.”

“Good,” Belsethia said with satisfaction. Then she glanced toward the horizon where the city ended—the magnificent sun had fully risen above the forest, its wood-grain corona gently bathing the royal city in warm light. “Time for the walk is over. You may head to the council hall first; I’ll join you shortly.”

The chief minister, the senior star mages, and several other officials immediately acknowledged her order. They stepped back in unison and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the officials departed, only the Silver Queen and her two senior attendants remained on the skywalk suspended high above.

“Let’s go as well,” Belsethia said to her attendants. “Don’t keep the court waiting too long.”

The two attendants fell into step behind her. After walking a short distance, one of them finally spoke up, unable to hold back any longer. “Your Majesty, are you really going to the northern outpost yourself?”

Belsethia slowed her pace and glanced at the attendant who had been by her side since childhood, someone she was very close to. A faint smile appeared on her face. “Aren’t you looking forward to seeing Uncle Gawain?”

“Well… it’s not that, just a bit unexpected. The northern outpost is much farther than the one where the sacred covenant was made seven centuries ago.”

“Humans, once fractured, have come together again—that alone makes the journey worthwhile,” Belsethia said slowly, her expression growing thoughtful. “And… there are some things I want to see with my own eyes.”

(End of chapter)