Chapter 1062: Lifting the Veil of Mist
The Dragonkind knew of the Sea Witches.
On this planet, aside from some strange creatures hiding in the elemental realms, there were only two intelligent species that had survived wave after wave of magical cataclysms while maintaining their civilizations: the mighty dragons of Tal’Rond and the enigmatic sea witches dwelling in the deep ocean. As ancient beings who had endured through the ages, these two races, though rarely in contact, at least shared a certain degree of mutual understanding—though that understanding was limited.
The sea witches lived far from the land, deep beneath the waves, and seldom showed interest in terrestrial affairs. They had built a mysterious, ancient kingdom around a colossal crashed starship, surrounded by the dangerous remains of ancient deities, making it perilous for other races to approach. Meanwhile, the dragons dwelled within the sealed realm of Tal’Rond, bound by the taboos of the Cradle Era. Under the watchful eyes of the gods, the dragons were deeply curious about the sea witches and their starship, but opportunities for contact were scarce.
No one expected that when the Cradle of Tal’Rond collapsed and the gods’ bindings were lifted, the first to set foot on this land would be these visitors from the deep sea.
The water elemental, now shriveled to barely a dozen centimeters tall, darted away swiftly. The nearby dragons made no move to capture it. Melita took a few moments to collect her thoughts before continuing toward the black-haired sea witch, who was already curiously surveying her surroundings.
Cassandra had quickly grasped the situation. Seeing so many dragons nearby and realizing she stood on solid ground, she guessed what had happened. The circumstances were beyond what she had anticipated. Even as an experienced deep-sea sorceress, she couldn’t quite fathom how she had “swum through” the storm. Yet this didn’t stop her from calming herself and adjusting her plans accordingly.
Her original mission had been to explore and investigate the Eternal Storm. But now, having crossed the storm and arrived directly in the dragons’ realm, she saw an opportunity to investigate Tal’Rond itself.
She looked at the long-haired woman approaching her in humanoid form and smiled faintly. “Hello—looks like our journey took an unexpected turn, and we accidentally arrived on your land. I’m Cassandra, from Antavien, loyal to the Mistress of the Deep, Queen Petia. But this time, my companions and I are here on an exploration mission commissioned by the Emperor of the Cecile Empire.”
“Welcome to Tal’Rond,” Melita replied with a warm smile. “You can call me Melita Pernia. I manage this camp.” Noticing the key phrase, she quickly asked, “Wait—you said you’re here on orders from the Emperor of the Cecile Empire?”
“Yes. We set out from the northern port of the Cecile Empire,” Cassandra nodded, watching the dragons’ reactions carefully. The situation was delicate. This unplanned “border crossing” was sudden, and to avoid misunderstandings that might spark conflict, it was wise to explain their origins and mission openly. Though not a professional diplomat, Cassandra understood this basic principle. “We noticed the Eternal Storm over the northern ocean suddenly vanished, so we came to investigate. We were supposed to explore near the storm, but something went wrong—our sense of direction, the deep-sea magnetic fields, and the magical environment all became distorted…”
“So you ‘swam through,’ huh?” Melita kept her tone friendly, though she had a dozen witty remarks ready. Instead, she held back and began pondering what might have caused these deep-sea visitors to stray. “I think it might be related to recent events here in Tal’Rond. The environment of this continent and the surrounding seas has changed drastically. As you can see—even the coastline looks like this now.”
Cassandra looked up, surprised. “Ah, I thought these rocks and islands were always floating in the sky—I’ve never been here before.”
Melita sighed. “A lot has happened… Anyway, please relax. We can get along. Personally, I have some acquaintance with the Emperor of Cecile. I never expected to meet his envoy under these circumstances. It’s a good thing. Also, please accept my apologies—our fishing crews are inexperienced. Forgive their offense.”
She was referring to the fishing squad that had mistaken Cassandra and her naga attendants for strange fish and hauled them up—a serious diplomatic incident in the making.
But Cassandra clearly wasn’t bothered. She flicked the tip of her tail and glanced at the dragons standing nearby. “Don’t worry, it was just a misunderstanding. I realized early on that these dragon friends probably got the wrong idea, so I ordered my subordinates to cooperate and avoid harm. You could say I came ashore voluntarily…”
“Thank you for your understanding and kindness. These reckless young dragons have learned a lesson today,” Melita quickly took the cue. “Please, follow me to the camp to rest for a while… though our conditions are limited, so please forgive any shortcomings in hospitality.”
Cassandra nodded, already noticing the makeshift shelters built from salvaged debris not far away, and the precarious ruins outside. She asked, “May I ask—what exactly happened to Tal’Rond? How did it come to look like this?”
“That’s… a complicated story,” Melita said, suppressing another sigh and gesturing invitingly. “Please come with me. We can talk on the way.”
…
Following Melita’s invitation, Cassandra arrived at the dragons’ dwelling along the shattered coastline. Calling it a dwelling was generous—it was just one of many temporary shelters in this small camp.
Sheltered from the wind by the coast, the dragons had built square, crude houses from salvaged alloy plates and stones mined from nearby shores. Compared to the once magnificent palaces and towers, these homes were shabby and dilapidated. To save materials and speed construction, the houses were too small to accommodate dragons in their true forms, so they lived inside in human shape. Even so, these shelters were precious refuges on Tal’Rond, sturdy enough to withstand the Arctic cold and storms, offering a brief respite from the devastated land outside.
“Please come in—though humble, compared to our kin still trapped in the wilderness ruins awaiting rescue, we survivors with a roof over our heads are extremely fortunate,” Melita said as she led Cassandra inside, pointing to a room deeper within. “I share this space with my friend Noretta—the white-haired one you saw earlier. She’s out patrolling the western wilds of the camp now.”
“Stay alert outside,” Cassandra instructed her naga attendants, then followed Melita inside.
After adjusting to the dim light, Cassandra took in the room’s details. The furnishings and the house itself bore a striking, contradictory style. Roughly cut alloy plates, crudely welded, formed the walls, with the lower halves made of piled stones. In one corner stood an advanced holographic projector, likely salvaged from the ruins. It flickered intermittently, playing synthetic music and dazzling old advertisements from a bygone era. At the center was a heavy stone table etched with dragon runes forming an arcane array of unknown purpose. A crystal hovered above the table, its surface shimmering faintly, projecting images of the camp’s surroundings.
Primitive and advanced, crude and precise, the shattered glory of a lost era and the uncertain future—all these contradictions coexisted here. Cassandra fell silent, contemplating the scene.
“This is our current state,” Melita said, misreading Cassandra’s silence. “It’s not pretty, but it’s practical for survival. Our top priority now is to ensure more of our kin live on and to restore some social order. Comfort and aesthetics will have to wait.”
“I understand,” Cassandra looked up, her gaze gentle. “We’ve been through similar.”
Melita blinked. “You have?”
“Many, many years ago—the Antavien crashed on this planet. All factories shut down, the engine core went dark. Every compartment from the fusion core tower to the living quarters was filled with metal debris and lethal radiation. We had to flee the ship, digging holes in the primitive seabed and shallows to survive, all while enduring terrifying physical and mental afflictions. Honestly, that situation might have been worse than what you face now—at least your atmosphere isn’t toxic.”
“I’m sorry…” Melita didn’t know how to respond.
“Why apologize? We just never had the chance to communicate before,” Cassandra smiled. “We’ve lived on this planet all this time but never crossed paths. Perhaps fate has arranged for us to understand each other from today onward. The Emperor of Cecile once said that the fates of mortals are intertwined—I’ve come to believe that.”
“He has many wise words,” Melita nodded. “Most are coming true, and perhaps the rest will someday.”
“He’ll be shocked when he learns what happened in Tal’Rond,” Cassandra said sincerely. “Such a monumental event unfolded beyond our sight on this planet… You’ve created the greatest upheaval in a million years. Even the sea witches are amazed.”
“But the catalyst came from the humans of the Loren Continent,” Melita said with a smile.
She paused, her expression growing serious as she met Cassandra’s eyes. “Cassandra, please tell me about the current situation on Loren, especially the Cecile Empire.”
“Of course,” Cassandra nodded, smiling. “This world is becoming increasingly… interesting. And the most fascinating part is that His Majesty, Emperor Gawain Cecile, is attempting to forge a new world order…”
…
The northern mountains basked in the warm sunlight of the awakening moon. The perennial snowcaps began to shrink. Dragonspire Fortress stood as it had for millennia atop the peaks, overlooking the realm of the dragonborn.
The Dragonblood Duke had returned.
Baloguer stood on the highest terrace, gazing out as the mist among the distant mountains caught the sunlight, rolling gently across his field of vision. Behind him, slightly to the side, stood the courtiers—Sir Gorosh Shikel, Sir Eugene, and the younger Sir Kazimir—waiting silently for the Grant Duke’s command.
Every nation on the continent had its own system of governance and titles. In the Holy Dragon Principality, the title of “Sir” was something quite unique. Unlike other countries where it fit neatly into the noble hierarchy, here it was a collective honorific reserved for the highest-ranking nobles—those powerful figures granted unrestricted access to Dragon’s Keep, nestled deep within these rugged, mountainous lands.
“I never thought I’d make it back alive,” Baloguer finally spoke after a long silence, his voice low. “Now, we have to change our plans.”
His recent coming-of-age ceremony felt like an unbelievable dream, yet everything that had happened was real. Baloguer could hardly believe he had returned safely to Dragon’s Keep after all he’d endured—in space, on Talrond. All he could do now was marvel at how unpredictable fate was, and how plans could never keep pace with change.
“We haven’t officially announced the Grant Duke’s passing yet,” said the tall, black-haired, and relatively young Sir Kazimir. “That’s probably good news. Although some rumors have leaked out and stirred unrest among the people, it’s nothing we can’t handle—we still have some room to adjust our strategy.”
“Indeed,” Baloguer replied with a strange expression. “If I’d come back just one day later, I might have had to attend my own funeral. On the flight back, I even thought about how to reappear in public in a plausible way—whether I should do something dramatic, like Gawain Cecil crawling out of his coffin in front of everyone… Ugh, if it came to that, things would get complicated.”
“Ahem,” cleared Sir Gorosh Shikel, coughing twice. “Fortunately, for now, we only need to calm the waters and suppress the rumors of a ‘palace coup.’ Now that you’ve returned, the principality’s affairs can proceed as usual. Should we draft an official letter to the Cecil Empire in response? Our previous reply to their invitation was less than ideal…”
“We definitely need to respond again,” Baloguer nodded. “But before that… let’s make some announcements.”
Sir Gorosh’s face showed curiosity. “You mean…?”
“The truth behind this long so-called ‘exile,’ the price the dragonborn paid for freedom, the real situation in Talrond… it’s time to reveal it all.”
Sir Eugene, his hair and beard white as snow, immediately frowned. “That will cause an uproar. Not all of our people are ready to accept such truths—you had decided before to keep it buried, didn’t you?”
“The truth always comes out eventually. We must also prevent the buried truth from becoming a hidden danger in the future. In this world, ‘the unknown’ and ‘blind ignorance’ are terrifying things. Seeing Talrond as it is now has only deepened my understanding of that,” Baloguer said slowly. “We’ll manage public opinion carefully, handle the aftermath responsibly, and then… let the dragonborn make their own choices.”
(End of chapter)