Chapter 1080: Closed-Door Meeting

Inside the spacious, brightly lit incubation chamber, the low hum of the rune devices blended softly with the gentle buzzing of the ventilation system. These subtle sounds weren’t intrusive; rather, they seemed to deepen the room’s quietude.

After a while, Enya gently broke the silence. “Is that so… It sounds like a lot has happened.”

Betty looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t know much, really. Some of it was told to me by my master or Princess Rebecca, and some I overheard when others were talking… They said a lot, but most of it went over my head. It all feels like it happened far away, and I don’t understand why everyone’s so worked up about it.”

“Taking great interest in distant events is a common pastime for many mortals,” Enya replied softly, her voice carrying a pleasant, vibrating resonance from within the eggshell. “But focusing on what’s close at hand is just as worthwhile. I can tell you’re a pure-hearted child—I like that very much. If you’re willing, we could be friends.”

“I’d love that! I like making new friends!” Betty’s face lit up, but then she quickly corrected herself, “Though I’m not a child anymore—I’m already an adult!”

“…An adult, huh.” Enya’s voice fell silent for two seconds after Betty’s words, then she spoke again with a hint of wistfulness that a maid might not fully understand. “You mentioned that those envoys from Talrond spoke at length with your master, and that they went together to that meeting, right?”

“Yes,” Betty nodded eagerly. “My master told me about it—something about ‘dragons returning to this world.’ He said it was a big deal, but I don’t really understand it.”

“Dragons returning to this world… How wonderful,” Enya’s voice carried a smile, tinged with pride. “They’ve taken the first step, and it came sooner than I expected… Over a million years have passed, and finally, something good is happening in this world again.”

Betty blinked. She noticed that “Lady Enya” often said things she couldn’t quite grasp, but it didn’t bother her. There were always many things in this world beyond her understanding, many of which she could learn about through reading or by asking her master. As for those she couldn’t understand… well, she simply let them be. They didn’t affect her mood.

So she quickly pushed aside her confusion and smiled again. Picking up her beloved large teapot, she approached the pale golden egg. “Lady Enya, would you like some more tea?”

“…Yes, a little more, thank you,” Enya hesitated before replying. “Though all this tea eventually just flows outside—it’ll add to your cleaning chores.”

“That’s okay! The tea flows down the grooves beside the base and onto the floor—I’ll just wipe it up afterward,” Betty said cheerfully. “I’m really good at cleaning. Before we had more help, I could clean an entire floor and all the tables and chairs by myself!”

As she spoke, she carefully poured the steaming tea onto the eggshell’s surface, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Lady Enya, can you really ‘drink’ tea like this?”

“It’s a strange sensation. I’m not sure if I’m truly tasting the flavor or feeling the warmth… but it feels nice,” Enya said happily. “I never imagined I’d have such an incredible experience.”

“But it seems a bit odd,” Betty glanced up at the eggshell. “I remember last time I poured tea for Mr. Egg, he didn’t seem very pleased…”

“Is that so? That’s unfortunate… but I don’t mind at all!”

…

Outpost 112. Night had fallen, and the town’s scattered lights were now glowing. The sky was a tapestry of stars above this frontier settlement built by elves. The artificial fires mingled with the starlight, casting elegant, graceful outlines on the exotic architecture. The influx of visitors had turned the once quiet town into a bustling hub. Yet beyond the outpost lay a vast, dark wilderness—black ridges and endless valleys swallowed by night, a stark contrast that reminded every visitor of the true meaning of the “edge of the civilized world.”

The Emerald Hall stood on a high ground on the town’s west side. From the second floor, one could look out over the barren wilderness beyond. Matilda Augustus stood before a pointed, elven-arched floor-to-ceiling window, her gaze fixed on the vast darkness outside. Her eyes traveled past the empty, almost terrifying void, all the way to a faint glow on the distant horizon: the grand silhouette of the Great Wall, an immense energy barrier that, despite the distance, was clearly visible to the naked eye.

She stared for a long time before finally turning away. “That’s the boundary of human civilization… I remember looking at it from afar when I was very young, but I never thought that even now, we’d still only be able to watch it from a distance…”

Rosetta Augustus sat nearby in a chair, looking up at his daughter. “Just watching from afar—how does that make you feel?”

“It feels like a yawning abyss, always ready to expand, a giant maw poised to swallow the entire civilized world. A destructive force held back only by a thin barrier, containing countless mutated monsters capable of sweeping across the world. And yet, the human nations have slept peacefully around this abyss for centuries. It’s… almost incomprehensible.”

“That barrier isn’t thin,” Rosetta said, nodding gently. “Its energy focus layer is actually half a kilometer thick. But you’re right—in the face of the vast Gondor Wasteland and the even broader Loren continent, that thick barrier is as fragile as paper.” He paused. “We’ve been protected by this ‘paper’ for over seven hundred years, but even this paper once drained the strength of all the nations on the continent.”

Matilda turned to her father. “…Did Gawain Cecil choose this meeting place to remind those nations who’ve grown complacent beyond the barrier?”

“A mature ruler always has more than one purpose in his plans,” Rosetta replied. “Using the desolation near the Great Wall to warn the world might be one of his aims, but certainly not the only one. Regardless, he’s the first to attempt uniting all mortal realms—a path none of us had imagined. For that alone, we must take this meeting seriously.”

“And we must also be cautious of the Cecil Empire’s possible ambitions, right?” Matilda turned, her expression grave. “What do you think Gawain Cecil will discuss with us tonight?”

“…Neither he nor I are people who like to waste time,” Rosetta said after a brief pause. “There will be two meetings here: one formal treaty between Cecil and Typhon, and another alliance discussion among the mortal nations. We both know the first meeting can’t drag on or consume too much energy compared to the second. Tonight, we’ll finalize the treaty’s framework and bottom lines behind closed doors. He won’t let this drag into tomorrow, and neither will I. So he’ll probably lay out his terms directly… then it’ll be a matter of simple bargaining.”

Matilda pondered this, just as footsteps and a knock sounded outside. A senior attendant entered, bowing at the door. “His Majesty Gawain Cecil has arrived.”

“Please show him in,” Rosetta said immediately—he didn’t bother adjusting his posture, always ready for what was to come. “Matilda, sit beside me.”

When Gawain entered the reception room, he saw an elegant tea table in the center, its blue crystal surface gleaming under the chandelier’s light. Rosetta Augustus was already seated on one side of the sofa, with the “Empire’s Jewel” who had once visited Cecil sitting beside him. No one else was present.

This was a closed-door meeting, a preliminary summit before the formal, public negotiations. It was unusual for the two nations’ interactions, but here—Gawain and Rosetta themselves were the “custom.”

Only Princess Matilda sat beside Rosetta, and Gawain had brought no entourage except Amber, his deeply trusted intelligence minister.

The door clicked shut behind them. Gawain and Amber stepped forward, and Rosetta rose to greet them. The usually somber middle-aged man now wore a smile, his dark demeanor noticeably softened. Gawain caught the change immediately and smiled in return. “Good evening, Rosetta. You look much better than the last time we met.”

Rosetta’s smile grew wider, even joking, “A good night’s sleep is very important for a man my age. Fortunately, I’ve been sleeping well lately.”

Gawain clearly understood the meaning behind this—a decent opening line. A shared experience, even if only tentative, could bring the two closer and make some less “friendly” terms harder to voice. Though such pleasantries might have little effect on men like them, it at least lightened the mood.

“Looks like it’s just the four of us tonight,” Gawain nodded toward Matilda. “No distractions. We can talk more freely.”

“Miss Amber,” Rosetta turned to Amber beside Gawain, his expression suddenly serious before quickly returning to normal. “I’ve heard you’re a shadow master whose strength is impossible to gauge, and an expert in intelligence. Your presence here is the greatest sign of sincerity from Gawain Cecil.”

To be honest, Gawain felt a flicker of concern. He had hoped Amber’s sharp mind would help in this meeting but hadn’t considered whether her unpredictable nature might cause trouble in such a solemn setting. Yet when he glanced at the half-elf beside him, he was stunned to see this usually carefree, unruly figure displaying a highly professional and perfectly courteous demeanor. With a perfectly measured smile, Amber responded to Rosetta’s praise with flawless tone and expression: “You flatter me. I’m here simply to fulfill my duty. As for sincerity… I believe that since we’re all here, the sincerity between you and our Majesty is absolute.”

“…That goes without saying,” Rosetta nodded gently, then added almost offhandedly, “Diana once spoke very highly of Cecil’s intelligence agency. She even told me outright that ‘agents personally trained by the head of Cecil’s intelligence might be the finest operatives in the world.’ I used to be skeptical, but recently, as the situation in Aldern has stabilized and I’ve had a bit more free time, I’ve come to truly appreciate the excellence of their methods.”

Amber immediately broke into a bright smile. “You flatter us too much—though in my view, your country’s wanderers and agents are just as outstanding, especially that group doing ‘business’ in Tamdull.”

Rosetta’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. He merely shifted slightly to the side, gesturing for Gawain and Amber to take their seats, then casually remarked, “We should try to cut down on these situations in the future, shouldn’t we? We’ve wasted far too much energy prying into our neighbors’ secrets.”

“Of course. That’s precisely why we’re here today—to build a deeper trust,” Amber said, her smile still radiant, her tone so sincere it even caught Gawain off guard.

But how much of that “sincerity” was genuine remained unclear. Both Gawain and Rosetta’s attention was clearly elsewhere.

“Let’s talk about the real issue at hand,” Rosetta took the lead once they were seated. “The war between Typhon and Cecil was sparked by misunderstandings and deliberately manipulated by our enemies. Now, it’s time for it to end, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. In fact, the war is already over,” Gawain nodded calmly. “We’ve signed a long-term ceasefire agreement along the border. Our generals’ talks have gone very smoothly. There’s no doubt we’ll soon issue a joint peace statement and explain the truth behind the scenes to the public. This will end peacefully. Trade will resume, and exchanges at both the governmental and civilian levels will reopen. On this, I believe we’re in full agreement.”

“I have no doubts about that,” Rosetta said solemnly, a subtle tension beginning to fill the room around him. “Whether it’s restoring diplomacy or reopening trade routes, our diplomats will handle the details in due course. But there is one matter—I want a direct answer from you.

“How much longer will Cecil’s forces remain stationed in Winterwolf Fortress?”

(End of chapter)