Chapter 1082: What Gawain Wants
Early that morning, Gawain received an urgent message from the Winter’s Edge, and half an hour later, a more detailed second report arrived in his hands.
The rising sun bathed Outpost 112, an elven settlement nestled in the valley, slowly awakening in the gentle spring breeze. Sunlight streamed through the crystal window on one side of the room, casting a sharp streak of light across an exquisitely crafted elven tapestry. Gawain sat at his desk, the amber-inked intelligence report lying beside him. The letters gleamed with unusual clarity under the morning sun.
Amber stood quietly by his side, her usually composed half-elf expression unusually serious. “Further reconnaissance shows that the Typhon have established outposts on at least fourteen islands or large reefs. Essentially, wherever the seas are navigable, you can see their black flags flying. The outpost farthest from the mainland is even on the edge of the chaotic turbulence zone. All these outposts are small—at best a wooden shack, at worst just a tent. It’s clear they were rapidly constructed—considering the presence of engineering mages, some might have sprung up in just a day or two. After all, the Winter’s Edge has been monitoring those islands for some time.”
Gawain’s fingers tapped lightly on the desk, his tone calm and measured. “No matter how small, these outposts prove ‘actual control.’ They have personnel, flags, and most importantly, these islands are undeniably within Typhon waters. We can’t claim they’re unowned. The truth is, there’s no universally accepted international standard for assigning ownership of remote islands far from the mainland—humans have been away from the seas for far too long.”
“Maybe we could try to take those outposts…” Amber began.
Gawain shook his head. “Any action we take now will lay the groundwork for the international order we want to build. To look deeper, some Typhon factions are probably waiting for us to make a misstep. Not all Typhon welcome the formation of the Alliance, nor do they want to see Cecil’s influence grow. They lack the strength to confront us directly now; their last hope is for us to overreach.”
Amber muttered under her breath, “How did the Typhon manage to do all this right under the Winter’s Edge’s nose… and on such a scale?”
“The Winter’s Edge is just a single ship, an experimental ocean-going warship still in its trial phase—from the vessel itself to the crew and training. They’re patrolling an immense ocean—an expanse you can’t truly imagine,” Gawain said, shaking his head. “Byron could never block Typhon waters with just one ship. He’s more a symbol than a blockade. But the Typhon’s response… was certainly swift.”
A faint smile flickered across his face, catching Amber’s attention. The half-elf looked at him, surprised. “It seems… you expected this all along?”
“I did expect them to be uncompromising about those islands, but I didn’t anticipate the outposts. Their response exceeded my expectations, but the overall direction is still favorable,” Gawain said slowly, pointing to the report in amber ink, which seemed to dissolve into a wisp of smoke in the sunlight. “It’s about time. Let’s go. We need to speak with Rosetta again.”
Amber blinked, finally certain this was exactly the scenario Gawain had foreseen. Yet she still couldn’t understand why he seemed so unconcerned about Winterwolf Fortress and the coastline, nor why his mood now was so… cheerful. She even had the strange impression that Gawain’s eyes held a smile—a smile of some kind of quiet satisfaction.
Before she could ask, Gawain strode out of the room, his voice calling from the doorway, “What are you waiting for? Being late isn’t a good habit.”
In the reception room on the second floor of the Emerald Hall, Gawain and Amber once again faced Rosetta Augustus. As they entered, Matilda stood near the tall window, gazing thoughtfully outside.
Through the window stretched a desolate, barren valley beyond the town, ending in a vast wasteland. The land toward the Gondor Wastelands was deserted, covered only by wild, oddly shaped vegetation thriving under mild pollution, carpeting the dark brown earth. The sun rose in the east, its slanting rays sweeping across the valley, bathing the town and finally illuminating the wasteland outside. In the sunlight, even the lush, magically tainted plants seemed to pulse with a hint of life.
“The sunlight today is wonderful. The elven star mages say this clear weather will last at least a week. That’s a good omen,” Rosetta said as she rose to greet them. “When I arrived yesterday, it was already dusk, so I couldn’t really see the scenery. The wasteland monitoring post looks grim under the night sky, but it has a different face in the morning.”
Gawain smiled faintly and took a seat casually. “When we met yesterday, night still cloaked the town. Now the sunlight fills the room. Honestly, I prefer daytime—it lifts the spirits.”
Matilda turned from the window, momentarily surprised by Gawain’s words, but quickly composed herself. Sitting beside Rosetta, she pointed to a plate of red fruit on the tea table. “The elves sent this this morning. They said you specially brought it from Cecil for this meeting?”
Gawain glanced at the small red fruits and nodded with a smile. “Yes, I brought them. They’ll be served to all the delegates during the meeting. Since the Typhon have a habit of eating fruit in the morning, I had some sent here early. How do you like the taste?”
“Very good. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Matilda said. “What’s it called?”
“Sorin tree fruit, from the Sorin giant tree—you’ve probably heard of it.”
Matilda seemed momentarily lost for words. Rosetta, however, wore a slightly odd expression. Clearing his throat twice, he deliberately shifted the conversation. “Did you rest well last night?”
“Very well,” Gawain nodded casually. “And we received intelligence from the Winter’s Edge early this morning.”
The room fell silent for a moment. Rosetta seemed surprised by Gawain’s calm demeanor, his gaze lingering on him for a few seconds before he spoke gravely. “The Winter’s Edge is indeed a very advanced ship.”
“I’m curious,” Gawain leaned forward, his expression serious. “How long did it take you to build those outposts? When did you start?”
Rosetta paused, then answered calmly, “Once we noticed the Winter’s Edge’s patrol routes, we understood its role. We spent over half a month observing its patrol patterns and detection range, estimating crew size. Then, during a twelve-hour window when it was out of sight, we completed construction of all the outposts.”
“Twelve hours?” Amber couldn’t hide her surprise. “How did you manage that?”
“Twenty-six thousand engineering mages working at full capacity,” Rosetta said slowly. “Most were responsible for creating ice channels on or under the sea by hand relay, while the rest transported materials to the islands and completed construction. They all took their positions before the Winter’s Edge could return to visual range. We may not have your advanced warships or engineering machines, but we’ve studied the sea conditions near those islands for a long time.”
Gawain studied Rosetta for several seconds before withdrawing his gaze. Leaning back, he murmured, “Impressive.”
“I think this shows our attitude and proves the issue of ‘actual control,’” Rosetta said, meeting Gawain’s eyes openly. The harshness once etched on his face had vanished, replaced by sincerity. “I have no intention of provoking conflict between Typhon and Cecil. As you wrote in your book’s message to me—we must enter a new era. For peace now and for future generations, this world needs prosperity and development. There have been misunderstandings and friction between our nations, but here we are, aren’t we?”
“Exactly. We should look forward,” Gawain said solemnly. “But I owe my people an explanation, and the soldiers on the front lines as well. I can withdraw from Winterwolf Fortress, bring the Winter’s Edge back, and work with you for peace and restoring diplomatic relations—but that doesn’t mean everything is wiped clean.”
“…Except for Typhon’s lands and those islands, everything else is negotiable,” Rosetta said after a pause, his tone serious.
Gawain thought for a long moment, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. Finally, he said slowly, “Alright, I can concede further—I’ll stop focusing on those islands. But I must keep the port at Dragoncall Bay. Also… you know I’ve been committed to restarting the old continental circumnavigation routes.”
“Yes, and Typhon is working on that too,” Rosetta nodded. “We’re trying to restore sea links with the southern continent, just as you’re doing in the north.”
“Right. The northern and southern circumnavigation routes will boost economic development along their paths and promote continental exchange. But that’s not enough,” Gawain shook his head. “If the routes remain divided north and south, they can’t truly be called ‘circumnavigation.’ As economic zones solidify their separation, the continent will split into two distinct spheres of exchange. Considering the Alliance we’re about to establish, can you imagine it divided into a ‘Southern Union’ and a ‘Northern Union’?”
“You want to connect the northern and southern circumnavigation routes?” Rosetta looked into Gawain’s eyes, then pondered before nodding gently. “I actually expected this… You’re determined to change the world’s trajectory and won’t tolerate continued division. Any plan to unite the mortal nations must be part of your vision.”
He paused, then added, “I agree with the principle, but the details must be negotiated carefully. Just as you must answer to your people, I must consider Typhon’s interests.”
Rosetta’s cautious words revealed the difficulty of his decision. Frankly, not long ago, he would have rejected Gawain outright—Typhon isn’t yet ready to connect its sea routes with the northern circumnavigation.
Typhon had gotten an early start on its naval fleet, but its development was slow. From the outset, the focus had been heavily placed on rebuilding its former colonies, which meant plans for establishing maritime trade routes were shelved for a long time. In this regard, the Cecilian people had clearly taken the lead. On the other hand, Typhon had borne the brunt of the recent war against the gods, suffering far greater losses in national strength. With priorities set on restoring order and reviving production, the Typhon royal family simply lacked the resources to quickly build a capable ocean-going merchant fleet. Meanwhile, Cecile’s power had been only lightly diminished. They now had the formidable Winter’s Chill at their disposal, which meant they could soon deploy more warships and an entire trade fleet.
It was quite possible they already had that trade fleet ready.
Once the sea routes connecting the northern ring around the continent opened up, allowing Cecile’s maritime trade forces to directly engage in commerce in the southern regions of the continent…
For Typhon’s nascent maritime trade, even if it wasn’t a death blow, it would be a catastrophe.
Rosetta was not afraid of a powerful opponent. He believed in Typhon’s resilience and spirit under his leadership. Even in the harshest conditions, the Typhon people could carve out a way forward. But he had to carefully consider the cost that path would demand in the future.
Once a blockade was established, breaking free would not be easy.
Yet Rosetta was also painfully aware that he had few options. He could hold onto the land territories and the islands at sea, but as long as warships like the Winter’s Chill held overwhelming power over Typhon’s own fleet, he could not stop Cecile’s ships from sailing into the southern seas—indeed, they could even bypass the continent from the west, though at a higher cost.
Gawain had chosen this moment to discuss the matter with him out of a sense of morality and respect.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Gawain said, looking intently at Rosetta’s face, his tone sincere and serious. “You might believe this will become a one-sided monopoly and blockade. You think that, nominally, the ring route around the continent is jointly maintained by Typhon and Cecile, but in reality, all the continent’s sea outlets will be controlled by Cecile’s fleet. The entire ring route will be under my command, and I won’t leave anyone room to survive. If that’s what you think, then you’ve misunderstood me.”
“From the very beginning, I never intended to rule the world, nor to seize the interests of any nation. In fact, except for those who openly oppose me, every partner who does business with Cecile has ultimately gained great benefits and long-term development. My goal is to make all my allies strong, not to maintain some so-called dominance by squeezing them.”
“So, back to the ring route around the continent—I will not sacrifice Typhon’s interests to ensure Cecile’s dominance on this route. Whether those interests are current or future, all trade activities will be conducted on a fair basis. There will be no unilateral blockades, exploitation, or attacks. This can even be written into our alliance memorandum.”
Rosetta weighed every word carefully, his gaze barely shifting.
An alliance… even a pact sworn before the gods could be altered or betrayed. Oral promises were even more fragile. In the end, everything would be decided by strength. A weakening nation’s status would inevitably fall, while a strong power would always hold more influence. He understood this truth all too well.
“I believe in your promise, and I trust that both sides will faithfully uphold the alliance,” Rosetta said, exhaling softly, his voice solemn. “Together, we will restore the glory of the ring route around the continent—letting it further drive the progress of the entire world.”
Gawain smiled. “Of course.”
The final line of defense in Typhon’s settlement zone finally opened its gates to him.
(End of chapter)