Chapter 1053: The Stars of Talrond
At the northern edge of the Loren Continent, the newly established port city of North Harbor was beginning to take shape. Though it would still be some time before it blossomed into a bustling transportation hub, this city—equipped with the empire’s most advanced technology and backed by abundant resources and manpower—already hinted at the grandeur it would one day achieve.
Along the long coastline, a broad, straight harbor avenue stretched east to west. Reinforced concrete piers, imbued with permanent magical enchantments, extended northward from the docks, reaching straight out into the sea. Massive breakwaters had been constructed in the shallow offshore waters, forming a wide, angular barrier. Numerous rune-embedded spires rose from the waters flanking the breakwaters, their glowing runes calming the sea within the harbor even further.
All of this was the work of sea witch and naga engineering—technologies that, had humans attempted to develop on their own, would have taken the empire’s magitek engineers and craftsmen an untold amount of time to discover from scratch.
On the other side of the harbor lay the city proper. Beyond its unusually wide, straight roads that stretched in all directions, the defining feature of this “border city” at the northernmost reaches of human lands was the many towering spires scattered throughout the urban landscape. These towers rose high above the buildings, their surfaces covered with softly glowing rune plates. From within, thick metal conduits snaked outward, connecting massive magitek devices perched atop the towers to the surrounding city and to heat-generating factories at their bases. Together, these towers and conduits formed an intricate and vast thermal network—the most advanced and complex heating system the Cecil Empire had ever built.
Thanks to this thermal network, humanity had finally managed to establish a foothold on this frigid land.
Victoria Wilde, the “Duchess of Ice and Snow,” stood at the end of one of the wide piers, facing the sea breeze as she gazed toward the rolling waves. Beside her stood several naga and sea witches. One of them, a beautiful sea witch with long black hair and a distinctive teardrop mole at the corner of her eye, propped herself up on her long serpentine tail and glanced back toward the city with a hint of nostalgia.
“The development here is so rapid… Prosperous commerce truly is the lifeblood of a city,” she mused.
“Lady Cassandra,” Victoria turned to the black-haired sea witch with curiosity, “isn’t commerce thriving in your sea witch kingdom? I rarely hear you speak of the ‘Eo’ continent.”
“The sea witch kingdom… is quite different from the continent,” Cassandra replied thoughtfully, smiling. “Of course, we have commercial activities, but our society moves at a slower pace, and trade isn’t as vibrant as it is on land. As you know, we arrived on this planet aboard a massive flying ship, and for many long years, most of our social life revolved around that ship and a handful of satellite settlements near the crash site. That’s only recently begun to change. Since the naga joined our kingdom, our society has gained new vitality, but overall, we remain a slow-paced people.”
“There’s one thing I should clarify, Lady Victoria—although our territory includes the ‘Eo’ continent, over ninety percent of sea witches actually live on the seabed surrounding the continent. Our interest in the land is mostly due to the mineral resources there, but compared to the abundant and generous ocean, the land holds little real appeal. So if you want to understand sea witches, you shouldn’t be asking about the continent—you should be asking about the deep sea.”
“The abundant and generous ocean…” Victoria murmured thoughtfully. “Our sovereign once described the sea in much the same way.”
A gust of sea wind carried the distant cries of seabirds. Viola, the deep-sea sorceress with flowing blue hair, looked up at the sky, interrupting the conversation between Victoria and Cassandra.
“It’s about time, Cassandra.”
The black-haired sea witch snapped back to the moment, glancing at the waves beyond the breakwater. Her long tail slowly coiled and stretched.
“The Eternal Storm… I’m really curious about what’s beneath it.”
Nearby, several naga prepared their weapons and gear. Victoria nodded to Cassandra.
“In any case, thank you for agreeing to help. Honestly, without your assistance, it would be extremely difficult for us to investigate the Eternal Storm.”
“We’re friends—it’s no trouble at all,” Cassandra smiled and waved her hand. “To be honest, we’re quite interested in that sea area ourselves. For years, it’s been shrouded by a powerful energy field that even we couldn’t penetrate. Now that the storm has finally dissipated, it’s a perfect chance to satisfy our curiosity.”
With that, the sea witch swayed her long tail and slithered toward the edge of the breakwater, followed closely by the naga. Victoria watched as the special reconnaissance team leapt from the pier into the rolling waves, their figures swallowed by the vast sea.
“May they be safe,” Viola said, lowering her gaze from the water. She flicked her long tail behind her and asked with curiosity, “By the way, now that we’re officially investigating the Eternal Storm, when will General Byron and the ‘Winter’s Edge’ return?”
“The Winter’s Edge is still patrolling the eastern seas. The mission is expected to last until late in the month of Renewal,” Victoria shook her head. “For a ship designed for long-range, extended sea combat, such prolonged missions are essential tests. We also use the opportunity to evaluate naval training and gather experience in deep-sea navigation.”
Viola looked thoughtful at Victoria’s explanation. Nearby, Rudolph, a naga who had once been a high-ranking storm priest, muttered under his breath, “Just training and testing missions, huh?”
Victoria’s expression remained unreadable. “…At least the ship and our sailors do need to carry out training and testing.”
At the edge of the Talrond Continent during the endless daylight of the polar summer, only dusk and day cycled in an unending loop. The giant sun rose and fell along the horizon, making it difficult to tell the exact time of day. Melita stood atop a high platform at the camp’s edge, gazing at the magnificent solar corona on the horizon. After a long moment, she hazily concluded it must be “midnight.”
Since waking, she had had little rest, but despite that, she didn’t feel very tired. The dire situation and the countless comrades in need were her greatest motivation. Compared to Karador, who had barely rested at all, she felt she had already recovered enough.
Footsteps approached from behind. Melita turned to see Noretta, the white dragon in human form, climbing the platform.
“So you really are here,” Noretta said knowingly. “From here, you can see almost the entire camp—I like coming here too.”
Noticing Melita’s silence and troubled expression, Noretta sighed softly. “Still thinking about the meeting earlier? What exactly is on your mind?”
“I’m thinking about building more shelters and developing fishing grounds along the coast,” Melita replied. “And I can’t help but think about humans… the ones I’m responsible for contacting on the Loren Continent.”
“Cecil?” Noretta raised an eyebrow. “Makes sense. Our current situation does remind you of them back then. Rebuilding from ruins, refugees struggling to survive… But Talrond is far more hostile than the Dark Mountains ever were, and the challenges we face to survive are far greater.”
“On the other hand, we’re also far stronger than those humans, aren’t we?” Melita looked at her friend. “Even though we’ve lost our implants, enhancers, factories, and entire social systems… with just our fangs and claws, dragons remain formidable creatures.”
At this, Noretta suddenly fell silent. After a moment, she spoke with a complicated tone.
“Yes, with just fangs and claws, dragons are still powerful… That’s why, before finding you, Karador, Elder Dukemore, and I discussed this very point. Do you know what my worst fear is?”
“Your worst fear?” Melita asked, curious. “What is it?”
“Remember those stories?” Noretta looked toward the camp, her gaze resting on dragons repairing equipment with salvaged materials, melting steel with dragonfire to weld barricades. “Those old-fashioned heroic adventure tales, the so-called ‘Classical Dark Side’ novels and poems.”
“…Dragons ravaging the human world, occupying castles and towers, plundering treasures, kidnapping princes and princesses, demanding tribute from kings… that sort of thing?” Images flickered through Melita’s mind. She realized what Noretta meant and her expression twisted oddly. “Are you overthinking this?”
“Maybe I am,” Noretta admitted with a self-deprecating smile. “After awakening in this wasteland, the first thing everyone thinks about is rebuilding homes and helping each other. But when things quiet down, I can’t help but let my mind wander. This wasteland is vast, and many survivors are trapped by ruins across the wide land. They… might not have the hope we have here. When they grow hungry enough, when they realize the temples and councils that once approved departure permits no longer exist… how long do you think before they start longing for the warmer, more bountiful human world? A place without radiation, biting cold, or roaming elemental beasts.”
Melita had never considered this before. After hearing Noretta’s words, she was stunned into silence. After half a minute, she finally said, “…We can’t regress into beasts—we are a civilized and rational people. How could we…”
“Our civilization is gone, and ‘dignity’ and ‘pride’ will ultimately yield to reality—even for dragons,” Noretta said slowly, each word weighted. “Of course, most of us will face this wasteland with pride, but perhaps a few… even a very few, might choose a darker path.”
“…And what awaits them won’t be adventurers’ swords and arrows, but more likely the arcane missile defenses of Cecil’s northern frontier and the Typhon’s laser arrays,” Melita shook her head. “Those old stories are just stories. Humans aren’t as weak and easy to bully as the tales suggest. They may have been weaker than Talrond once, but today… that’s no longer certain.”
“But there’s no denying it: once freed from society’s restraints, the despairing dragonkind remain a massive threat. Our innate power is simply too overwhelming, while most mortals in this era start from such a fragile place,” Noretta sighed. “That’s why we have to find a way—we cannot allow our proud race to fall into such a dark, despicable state. Right now, the most urgent thing we can do is to bring some hope to any other survivors who might still be out there in the wasteland.”
“Bring some hope?” Melita repeated instinctively.
“That idea you brought up is truly brilliant,” Noretta said suddenly, a smile breaking through the twilight gloom. “Maybe even you don’t realize just how brilliant it is.”
“My idea?” Melita blinked, then caught on. “Oh, you mean lighting the flame? Honestly, it was just a spur-of-the-moment thought… after all, I’ve spent so much time in the human world.”
Noretta kept smiling and glanced back toward the tallest ruined watchtower in the camp’s southwest corner. “Lord Baloguer is about to light the flame—he’s supposedly repaired a pressure device dug out from the ruins. The fire it spits out can stretch across the entire plain…”
Melita’s gaze followed instinctively. In the dim light, without any filters or visual enhancements—just the raw, natural view—she saw the tall tower. Shadows flickered on the platform at its peak, and occasional sparks of fire glimmered faintly.
She blinked, trying to see more clearly. Then, in an instant, a towering blaze erupted, tearing through the dusky twilight with a roar of pressurized flame!
A massive pillar of fire shot upward, as if piercing the murky sky above the ruins of Agondor. The bright light, just as Noretta had said, was visible across the entire plain.
Many dragons in the camp jumped at the sudden blaze, lifting their heads toward the watchtower. Even those suffering from the agonizing backlash of enhancers—some barely coherent—were momentarily drawn to the spectacle.
Melita’s pale violet eyes reflected the rising flames in the camp. Surprised, she stared for a few seconds before looking away.
Her gaze swept beyond the camp, across the dim plain shrouded in filthy clouds.
The scorched, rolling earth. The jagged, torn ruins of the city. The molten, twisted steel wreckage. All cloaked in silent darkness.
The fire rising in the Agondor ruins camp was the only light in this world.
Melita stood on the high platform, staring into the distance for a long time without spotting anything else. Finally, she sighed with regret. Beside her, Noretta spoke softly, “Maybe they haven’t seen it yet. Or perhaps they’ve sent signals we just can’t detect…”
Suddenly, a faint flicker of flame appeared on the horizon, catching both their eyes. It burned briefly, then vanished into the sky. Seconds later, another flame flickered up in the same spot.
Noretta’s words caught in her throat. She and Melita widened their eyes. Then, within moments, new lights appeared from another direction—a flash of lightning, clearly conjured by magic.
Then a third, a fourth signal followed.
Sometimes a faint breath of dragonfire, sometimes a bright bolt of lightning, or just a sudden plume of smoke rising from the ruins. They seemed to be answering the fire of Agondor, flickering up from all across the barren, scorched plain—some near, some far, some large, some small.
One of the closest signals even appeared near the camp.
Melita’s eyes grew wide—
In the dim, gloomy light, these faint flames shone like stars scattered across the sky.
(End of chapter)