Chapter 1063: The Elemental Secret

Spring had arrived across the northern lands, yet atop the mountain peak where Dragon’s Watch Keep stood, the biting wind remained an unending refrain. Gusts swept relentlessly from the distant coastline, swirling with the mountain air, ceaselessly battering the ancient fortress hewn from massive stone. Between the castle’s outer galleries and towering walls, the howling wind never ceased, day or night.

Within the corridors bridging the inner and outer courtyards, enormous braziers blazed fiercely. The energy shields rising from the flames kept the chill at bay, but even so, the wind’s mournful wails occasionally pierced through. Sir Gorosh Shikel stood between two colossal stone pillars, his gaze fixed through the open gallery toward the outer courtyard. Fully armored Dragonblood warriors stood tall and unmoving in the cold, like statues carved from stone.

The mighty physique of the Dragonborn allowed them to shrug off the mountain’s chill—a source of pride for those who called this land home, a testament to their bloodline.

Footsteps approached, and Gorosh turned to see Sir Ksimir, his black hair cropped short, coming to stand beside him. Gorosh nodded slightly; Ksimir returned the gesture and casually remarked, “I heard from the Grant Duke that the winds in Talrond are even colder and fiercer than here… I can hardly imagine what that must be like.”

“Neither can I,” Gorosh replied. “We Dragonborn have never ventured north since birth, nor are we allowed to learn anything about the lands beyond the northern seas… In that regard, you and I are the same.”

Ksimir fell silent for a moment. After a few seconds, he suddenly asked, “What do you think the people of the duchy would do if they learned the truth? Would they accept this arrangement that’s lasted a million years, and the ‘Mother Clan’ ruling over us now?”

“…It’s impossible to predict with certainty,” Gorosh shook his head. “There are too many variables. Even I was lost for a long time after learning everything. My feelings toward the primordial dragons are… complicated. On one hand, with Talrond’s civilization doomed to fall, exiling the Dragonborn and forbidding our return was a form of protection. Because of that, we didn’t have to face the final war, didn’t have to become frozen corpses on that northern wasteland. But on the other hand… that protection was forced upon us, delivered in the coldest, most merciless way. I can accept that, but millions of duchy citizens surely cannot.”

“No one likes a fate that’s been arranged for them—especially not the Dragonborn,” Ksimir smiled wryly. “The winds here are so harsh they’ve turned the Dragonborn into a people as cold and unyielding as stone. I fear it will take great effort to help everyone gradually accept the truth about Talrond…”

Before he could finish, footsteps approached from the side, accompanied by a disdainful female voice: “Frankly, I think all these thoughts are just self-indulgent whining.”

“Lady Asalina,” Ksimir looked toward the voice and saw a red-haired woman approaching gracefully. He smiled and nodded in greeting. “Your critique is as sharp as ever.”

“Just speaking honestly,” the Dragonmark Witch Asalina snorted dismissively. “Complaining about fate being arranged is a luxury for those who’ve lived too comfortably. Those who crawl out of battle barely alive never care if their lives were ‘arranged’ to be spared. If anyone thinks Talrond wronged them by clipping their wings, it’s simple—send them to Talrond, let them die in the wasteland. If they want an unaltered fate, that’s the fate the primordial dragons face. When that time comes, I bet they’ll be crying and begging to come back.”

Ksimir listened, half amused, half exasperated. “As expected, sharp as ever. No wonder you’ve traveled so long among humans—you have a fresh and powerful perspective.”

“I’m just recalling something a human once told me,” Asalina said casually. “‘The brave who die honorably deserve to be buried with their swords, but the survivors get to roast meat and boast beside their graves.’ I used to scoff at that, but now I see its truth.”

Ksimir blinked, his expression odd. “That doesn’t sound like something a hero would say.”

“No, he wasn’t a hero. That’s why he’s still alive—while the heroes all lie buried with their swords,” Asalina murmured, almost to herself. “If only those guys could still drink and brag with us…”

Gorosh looked at the red-haired witch with curiosity. “Lady Asalina? Are you—”

“No, nothing. Just distracted,” she quickly shook off the memory and looked up at the senior court officials. “Ah, I almost forgot the matter at hand… Sir Gorosh, it seems we’ll be heading back to the human world again. The envoy to represent the Holy Dragon Duchy at the upcoming meeting has been decided. Since the Grant Duke must stay here to stabilize the duchy, the envoy will be you and me once more.”

…

Accompanied by Melita, Cassandra climbed to a high platform beside the camp. The outcropping was a mass of jagged black stone, half-melted then re-solidified, resembling obsidian flecked with faint glimmers of light. From this vantage, they could see the entire sheltered bay camp, the surrounding beaches, and part of the wasteland stretching inland.

Though the month of awakening had come, the Arctic winds remained bitterly cold. Cassandra carefully controlled her elemental form, wary of freezing, while curiously surveying this strange, mysterious land so unfamiliar to sea witches. The vast ruins and remnants of alloy structures spoke of a once-advanced civilization, now lost. She felt a pang of regret for never having visited during Talrond’s glory days—many wonders that amazed her kind were gone forever, or if rebuilt, it would be centuries hence.

“As you can see, after that war… this is all that remains,” Melita said. “For us bound by the world’s rules, breaking free comes at a terrible cost. Just to be able to speak freely with an ‘outsider’ like you, we had to pay with our lives.”

“This world is truly unforgiving… far worse than our homeland,” Cassandra shook her head. “Of course, I mean before our homeland was destroyed…”

“Your homeland… destroyed?” Melita looked surprised, clearly unaware of that history.

“A long time ago,” Cassandra smiled wryly. “Our home was suddenly attacked by a powerful invader. We were helpless, so we fled. Many years have passed since then—probably even those invaders are dead now. The ocean there may have revived, but it seems we can never return.”

“…Talking with an ‘outsider’ is truly enlightening,” Melita murmured after a pause. “We who are trapped on this planet can hardly imagine what worlds light years away are like.”

Cassandra shook her head. “We’re trapped here now too—so there’s no real difference between us. Even when I talk about interstellar travel, it’s just reminiscing about past glories. In the end, we’re all rebuilding our lost civilizations. Bragging about former splendor is pointless.”

“True enough,” Melita smiled, then seemed to realize something. “It seems every race on this planet is on the path to rebuilding civilization.”

Cassandra only smiled quietly, saying nothing. Almost at the same moment, a young dragonborn flew in from the camp and landed on their platform, bowing his neck to Melita. “Captain, Grisdor asked me to check with you—what should we do with the water elementals caught in the camp? They’re getting noisier.”

Melita immediately recalled the tiny water elementals trapped in the draconic rune array, shrunk to mere inches and endlessly complaining. Her expression twisted slightly. “They’re still confined?”

“Yes. Grisdor tried to extract fresh water from them, but failed. They’re at their limit—any more and they’d return to the elemental plane immediately,” the young dragonborn answered obediently. “We didn’t dare release them without your orders…”

“Stop wasting effort. You won’t get any water,” Cassandra waved a hand. “My siphon never leaves a drop behind—especially after I’ve thoroughly drained them.”

“Then release them all,” Melita nodded to the young dragonborn. “And tell Grisdor to ignore any similar small water elementals in the future. No need to waste manpower.”

The young dragonborn took flight again. Melita glanced curiously at Cassandra. “I’m curious… do sea witches normally rely on hunting other water elementals to sustain themselves? I thought you drew water directly from the environment.”

“Normally, yes,” Cassandra replied quickly. “Sea witches don’t usually hunt primal water elementals. But this time was different. While crossing the seabed, my team and I encountered unstable elemental rifts. Some reckless primal water elementals emerged and attacked us. To teach them a lesson, I had to punish them.”

As she spoke, the black-haired sea witch with a tear-shaped beauty mark near her eye narrowed her gaze. “Don’t worry about those guys. Though drained, once they return to the elemental world, they’ll recover quickly. But being slowly leeched by a sea witch will leave a lasting impression. For at least ten millennia, they won’t dare roam these waters again.”

Melita was momentarily stunned, unsure whether to judge Cassandra’s “lesson” or marvel at the surprising ruthlessness of a seemingly gentle sea witch toward her own kind. After pondering, she asked, “Why would water elementals attack sea witches, who are also water elementals? Aren’t elemental beings usually friendly with one another?”

“‘Good relations’?” Cassandra chuckled. “Well, that might be true for other elemental beings, but unfortunately, we ‘outsiders’ are the exception on this planet… The native primal water elementals don’t exactly welcome us sea witches who disturb the calm of their realm.

“When the Antavien crashed onto the planet’s surface, we didn’t just smash up a continental shelf—the ship’s wreckage also pierced through many of the ‘tributaries’ of the water elemental domain. The repercussions of that are still rippling through to this day.

“So, since ancient times, the relationship between the primal water elementals and us sea witches has been tense, even erupting into direct conflicts several times. But we’ve always known the fault lies with us, so we’ve been trying to mend fences with those primal elementals… Our efforts haven’t been in vain. At least in the regions covered by the main elemental tributaries, we’ve managed to coexist peacefully with the local water elementals. But in the more remote areas…”

Cassandra’s tail curled and flicked in midair. “Those scattered water elementals don’t care about any ‘coexistence agreements’—whenever they show up, they’re looking for trouble with the sea witches. Most of the time, they refuse to communicate. Over time… when we sea witches out in the wild run into situations like that, we have no choice but to fight back.”

Melita had lived for countless years and witnessed many incredible things in this world, but this was the first time she’d heard about matters only elemental beings could truly understand or sense. She listened with surprise and fascination as Cassandra spoke, and when she finished, Melita couldn’t help but sigh, “I never would have guessed… that in places we don’t understand, this world still holds so many unknown and intriguing histories.”

Then she quickly corrected herself, worried her choice of words was off. “Ah, sorry—I probably shouldn’t have called that history ‘intriguing’…”

“No need to worry,” Cassandra waved her hand immediately. “We sea witches see the world differently from you, so you’re not wrong. Even we find those histories pretty fascinating… Elemental conflicts are just part of the deal. We’re used to dying and dying again. And I suspect even those primal water elementals who remain hostile to us sea witches have gotten used to it—like that water elemental I just let go today. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I might have tussled with it forty or fifty millennia ago…”

Melita: “…”

(End of chapter)