Chapter 1110: The Retired Dragon God

The Abandonment Protocol.

Gawain hadn’t forgotten the “deterrent” he’d employed when he first ventured to Talrond—the permission boost granted by the Skyhold Station, which allowed him to designate certain Ascendant spatial facilities as orbital debris and direct them to specific “permitted zones” on the planet’s surface. Without any safeguards, the residual energy and destructive potential within those abandoned structures could unleash a catastrophe on the target area—one potentially even more devastating than a divine calamity.

After all, divine calamities were merely the result of gods losing control. But these Ascendant relics… they were originally designed to slay gods.

Before Enya spoke, Gawain had indeed considered the abandonment protocol, but now, after a long pause, he voiced his concerns: “I’ve thought about it, but the risks are too great.”

A calm, detached voice echoed from the golden egg: “Is it because you can’t guarantee precise targeting?”

Gawain grimaced and nodded. “It’s true—it’s hard to guarantee accuracy. That tower is huge, but still a ‘small target’ compared to orbital debris. These facilities have been in service for so long that even if we adjust their orientation during abandonment, the effect is limited. Most likely, the debris will fall somewhere on the Talrond continent nearby.”

Enya was silent for two seconds before breaking the quiet: “How far off could it really stray? Could it land in the southeast corner of Talrond?”

“That’s unlikely,” Gawain shook his head. “I’m confident in the accuracy. The tower is off the northwest coast of Talrond, and the orbital debris would at worst fall along the western shore of the continent… Wait, are you implying…”

“Survivors have gathered in the southeast corner. That area is safe. As for western Talrond… it’s already wasteland. Another orbital bombardment wouldn’t make much difference,” Enya said in a very calm tone.

Gawain stared intently at the golden egg’s shell, his expression growing serious. “But there could still be survivors in the western wasteland. If Melita and her kin managed to survive on the southeast coast, other dragons might have survived in western Talrond too—just cut off from the outside world by spatial rifts and contaminated zones. What about those survivors?”

“Survivors in western Talrond are unlikely, and if any remain, their numbers would be extremely small,” Enya replied, her tone tinged with a sorrow Gawain couldn’t quite grasp. “Most probably, they didn’t survive the first few cold nights.”

“…How can you be so sure?” Gawain asked instinctively.

“The fighting began in the Omega Factory District in the west,” Enya’s voice lowered. “In my fragmented and confused memories, I saw that land ignite first… Perhaps because I was still wary of the Tides’ corruption back then, I held nothing back and did everything I could to destroy all active targets in western Talrond.”

An unspoken silence filled the room. Gawain didn’t know what to say for several seconds before finally speaking: “I understand. If there are no survivors in western Talrond, then…”

“But still, let Helagor and Andar send out teams to search as thoroughly as possible,” Enya suddenly said. “If you really decide to act… have them check again beforehand. The chance of survivors is slim, but maybe…”

“Alright, I understand,” Gawain cut her off before she could continue. “I’ll handle this carefully. And orbital bombardment isn’t a decision to be made lightly—there are many factors to weigh, many situations to investigate. Helagor and the others will have plenty of time to continue searching the wasteland for survivors… Once they’re capable of broader rescue operations, I’ll prioritize sending them to western Talrond.”

The provisional government of Talrond was currently in dire straits, short on personnel and supplies. According to Melita, even the temporary capital, Argondor, could only dispatch limited search teams to nearby areas. Under such conditions, they had little chance to consider whether survivors remained in the western continent. But now, with the alliance formed, a steady stream of aid and construction teams would soon head to the far northern continent—including communications, energy, and protective equipment provided by Cecil’s side. These “magical gadgets” from humans, though no match for Talrond’s creations in their prime, were invaluable to the impoverished dragons in these desperate times.

With ample support, Argondor’s operations could proceed without worry. Especially with many healthy dragons freed from menial tasks like gathering food and clearing ruins, Helagor and his team should have the capacity to search western Talrond—before the orbital abandonment protocol is activated.

With some of his worries eased, Gawain sighed quietly, then added, “I have another concern—we can’t be sure what will happen if we actually bomb that tower from orbit. According to your estimate, it should be destroyed outright. But what if it’s not? What if it’s only partially destroyed? What if the Tides’ corruption inside escapes or transfers by some other means? I thought about this back then… and even now, I’m not confident.”

“So what do you mean?”

“…I’ll still prioritize orbital bombardment, but before that, I must personally confirm the tower’s condition,” Gawain said solemnly after a moment’s thought. “If possible, I want to know exactly what state the ‘Tides’ inside are in.”

“That will be very dangerous,” Enya warned.

“That danger already exists. As long as it remains there, it’s a growing threat,” Gawain said. “The key now isn’t whether I go, but who else can. Of course, this isn’t a rash decision—I have reasons for it.”

The golden egg was silent for a moment before a faint smile crept into Enya’s voice: “Well… after all, you are an ‘Outsider,’ a mortal who once intimidated the dragon gods—and succeeded.”

Gawain couldn’t help but look a little suspicious. “…Why do you sound like you hold a grudge about that?”

“Of course not.”

Gawain stared at the smooth shell of the golden egg for a long moment, but no matter how he looked, he couldn’t read any expression. He could only force a dry chuckle and awkwardly steer the conversation back: “Anyway, let’s leave it at that for now. I’ll carefully draft a feasible ‘bombardment plan.’ But one thing I must make clear—I need time. There are countless matters within the empire and the alliance demanding my attention. Preparing to explore the tower will also take a lot of work. This can’t be rushed.”

“I understand,” Enya replied immediately. “As long as you’re willing to act, I’m satisfied. That tower is dangerous, but the ‘god’ inside has already perished. Its harmful potential is limited, and nothing unexpected should happen in the short term.”

As she spoke, the former god suddenly chuckled softly, her tone tinged with a wistful nostalgia: “I can wait. After all, we’ve already waited so long on this matter… and I’m the best at waiting.”

The topic of the tower finally ended. Gawain didn’t want to linger in the heavy, somber atmosphere it brought, so he shook his head and turned to Enya, bringing up a lighter matter that had been on his mind: “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask… you said your power has greatly diminished, and many of your ‘authorities’ are lost. How much strength do you have left? What incredible feats can you still perform?”

Enya was silent for a moment, but the aura emanating from the egg clearly darkened briefly—she hadn’t expected Gawain’s focus to be here. After a while, a gentle, low voice came from inside: “Why do you ask? Do you intend to use my power for something?”

I want you to help me make soda.jpg.

But that was impossible to say aloud.

Gawain cleared his throat twice, trying to look serious: “I’m just curious. For example, the ‘Reflection’ authority, classified as a ‘miracle’—do you still retain it after severing your divinity and leaving your godhood? Can you still create ‘Reflections’ as a mere mortal?”

“You want to explore whether a god, after losing their divine office, can still reproduce ‘miracles’ using only their remaining power and knowledge?” Enya’s voice immediately grew serious. “Ah… that’s a perspective I’ve never considered. Indeed, only you would think of that. It’s worth studying. I think I’ll have something to do for a while… But ‘miracles’ come in many forms. One that only makes beverages isn’t very valuable for research. I might start with something else…”

“Let’s start with Reflections,” Gawain said solemnly.

“I mean… while Reflections are incredible as ‘miracles,’ their technical complexity is low. I have better starting points…”

“Let’s start with Reflections,” Gawain repeated firmly.

Enya: “…”

Gawain: “…”

From inside the golden egg came a surprisingly human sigh: “Just say it—what flavor do you like?”

Gawain’s expression twitched slightly, embarrassed, as he rubbed the tip of his nose. “It’s hard to describe…”

“The taste of your homeland… I remember you mentioned it once. The Outsider’s homeland flavor?”

Gawain thought for a moment, then couldn’t help but smile softly. The stern expression he’d forced earlier gave way to a more approachable one. “…You could say that.”

“Then there’s no shortcut… I’ll try slowly to recreate that delicious ‘miracle,’” Enya’s voice carried a hint of helplessness, then a touch of surprise. “I never expected the Outsider to have such an emotional and… approachable side. I thought you were always rational and detached, like machines and runes. How interesting… You weren’t like this the last time we spoke.”

“Your description fits gods better, but I’ve always leaned more toward the ‘human’ side,” Gawain spread his hands. “As for why I’m different now than before, it’s simple: last time, I was talking to the dragon gods. This time… it’s you, Enya.”

The golden egg fell silent, then suddenly asked, “Is your ‘homeland flavor’ served with ice?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I have a direction to work toward.”

Gawain thought it all felt a little off, but on reflection, it wasn’t a bad thing.

After all, he didn’t want Enya—the former god in such a unique state—to get too deep into his core secrets too soon. And she did need something to occupy her for a while. Considering both, having her focus on a seemingly harmless goal was a good development.

Besides, he had already quietly assigned this former god a “network testing project.” For the foreseeable future, he didn’t plan to give her any more tasks—that was to ensure the purity of the test samples.

Just then, footsteps suddenly echoed from the corridor, interrupting the conversation between Gawain and Enya.

The door to the incubation room swung open, and Betty appeared before Gawain carrying a large tray—her maid’s face bright with cheer as she stepped inside. “Master, Lady Enya—I’ve brought the tea and snacks!”

“You’ve come at just the right time,” Gawain smiled at Betty. “It’s been days since I last had your tea.”

Cola was nice, but the aroma of home-brewed tea was something else entirely.

Betty beamed at the compliment, handing the first cup of black tea to Gawain. Then, without missing a beat, she picked up the teapot and moved over to Enya. With practiced ease, she poured the steaming tea straight onto the eggshell…

Gawain stared, mouth agape, clutching his teacup.

He’d heard rumors about Betty “watering” Enya, but he never imagined this so-called “watering” was actually this blunt and straightforward. Did she really just pour tea all over her like that? And Enya… she actually seemed to enjoy it?

Suddenly, the teacup in Gawain’s hand felt oddly heavy, and he finally understood where that faint tea fragrance on Enya’s shell came from… it had soaked right in!

“Master?” Betty, usually slow to catch on, noticed Gawain’s gaze after half the pot had been poured. She turned her head, puzzled. “Is something wrong?”

Gawain twitched at the corner of his mouth, unable to hold back. “Betty… are you making tea eggs?”

Betty blinked, confused. “Tea eggs? What’s that?”

“It’s a kind of food… never mind, I can’t explain it to you,” Gawain groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Oh.” Betty nodded. Since her master didn’t want to talk about it, she figured it wasn’t important. She quickly set the strange thought aside and, following her usual routine, pulled a soft cloth from her pocket to start wiping Enya’s eggshell.

The soft scrubbing sounds echoed through the incubation room. Gawain, who had just managed to lift his teacup again, immediately set it down. “…You actually do this all the time?!”

Betty froze, utterly baffled. “What do you mean by ‘do this all the time’?”

Gawain: “…”

(This is my last ripple.)

(End of chapter)