Chapter 1122: Good News on a Good Day

The gazes of the two ancient dragons simultaneously fixed on her, their eyes brimming with unmistakable expectation. Melita, who had long been used to coasting through life and collecting a paycheck, instinctively shrank back. But today was different. Once the initial nervousness passed, she pointed to herself and asked, “Are you saying I’m the candidate…?”

“You’re the most suitable,” Chairman Andar said in a low voice. “Among the younger generation, you’ve had the most contact with the continent of Loren, and you have a personal relationship with High Lord Gawain Cecile. In terms of ability, you’re adept at handling change and unexpected situations. Talrond has been closed off for so many years and has just endured a devastating war. We simply don’t have many diplomats like you anymore.”

Melita opened her mouth, having already guessed how this would go when the two leaders were discussing earlier. Still, she couldn’t help but whisper, “But I… I have some personal matters…”

Helagor looked at her curiously, his tone gentle. “Personal matters?”

“I still have to go home and incubate an egg…” Melita said awkwardly. “Noretta and I just claimed a dragon egg.”

Chairman Andar immediately recalled and nodded slightly. “I believe Duke Mor mentioned this. Noretta submitted the application just last week.”

Melita felt a pang of guilt. Talrond needed her now, and she shouldn’t let personal issues affect the bigger picture. Yet she couldn’t help but bring up the egg—she felt uneasy leaving Noretta to care for it alone. But deep down, she had already made up her mind to leave the final decision to the two leaders. After all, the role of resident ambassador was more important, and the egg’s incubation wasn’t so urgent.

“Here’s a suggestion,” Helagor suddenly said. “You can take the egg with you to Cecile. If necessary, you can even seek help from High Lord Gawain Cecile.”

“Take the egg to Cecile?” Melita’s eyes widened in surprise. “You mean… let the hatchling incubate outside Talrond?”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Andar nodded slowly. “In the past, our laws forbade taking dragon eggs out of Talrond and didn’t recognize hatchlings incubated elsewhere. That was because of the ‘Cradle.’ But times have changed. That outdated law should be discarded along with many other old regulations. We’re opening our doors to the outside world, and more dragons will be working or living on the Loren continent. Allowing eggs to be carried is only natural.”

“Oh, I have no objection to that,” Melita said quickly. “But Noretta… she’s only just started caring for the egg. If I take it away, will she…?”

“She can serve as your liaison officer, handling communication between Talrond and Cecile. Until communications are fully restored, she can act as a messenger. If one day we rebuild the transoceanic channel, she can be your diplomatic assistant. Of course, this is just a preliminary plan,” Chairman Andar explained. “As resident ambassador, you won’t be going to Cecile alone. Noretta was your logistics assistant during the Mithril Treasury period—you two work well together. Does this arrangement suit you?”

Melita blinked, then smiled brightly. “Of course it does!”

This arrangement was more than suitable—it far exceeded her expectations.

Still, amid her satisfaction, she voiced a concern. “No hatchling has ever incubated outside Talrond before. The magical environment on Loren is different. Will the egg really be safe there?”

“You should have more faith in the vitality of dragon eggs. They’re not as fragile as you think,” Helagor said, a strange expression flickering across his face. “Besides, you’re going to Cecile… Gawain Cecile could even hatch a god.”

Melita couldn’t help but interject, “Well, it’s not exactly ‘hatched’… last time I saw it, it was still an egg.”

As soon as she said it, she felt uneasy—her words seemed to lack respect for the ancient dragon gods. But trying to rephrase it, she realized she was only stating facts. Embarrassed, she looked up, only to meet the equally awkward gazes of the two dragon leaders.

“…Let’s change the subject,” Helagor finally broke the silence. “How about we discuss the details of the economic revitalization plan?”

Chairman Andar nodded immediately. “Agreed.”

…

Bright, warm sunlight spilled over the paths and flowerbeds of the Longbranch estate, making the small river that ran through it shimmer with sparkling ripples. Ferdinand Wendell stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the manor’s great hall. Outside, a flowering vine draped down from the second-floor balcony, its lush green leaves and blossoms swaying gently in the breeze.

After a harsh, long winter and a brief, damp spring, the midsummer of the Aldern Plains had finally arrived. The lush summer was unfurling its magnificent tapestry across the land. The sight of thriving greenery was a good omen for everyone. People in the estate and town had been saying these days—things were likely to improve in the second half of the year.

For the aging Duke Ferdinand, this truly was a good day—the hardest times were behind him, and precious family members had returned. Since coming back from the Winterfort battlefield, today was his happiest day.

The Wendell family had been unwaveringly loyal to the empire, with distinguished service. Yet over the years, their numbers had dwindled. He could not bear to lose another granddaughter.

“The Aldern authorities are building up your return with great fanfare. The military’s propaganda portrays you as the hero who preserved the Winterwolf elite and prevented the border from falling into chaos. His Majesty will personally award you a medal and hold a welcoming ceremony. The parliament has been managed so there will be no trouble for you or your troops,” the old man said without turning around, knowing Andessa stood behind him. “For now, the official story is that you’re still recovering and need to rest at Longbranch estate. You can use this time to adjust and catch up on domestic changes. But aside from those you truly trust, it’s best not to receive visitors.”

Grandfather hadn’t given her such advice in a long time—Andessa thought to herself.

She was no longer a young girl new to military and political circles. Many things she understood without being told. Yet at this moment, she listened carefully, and only broke the silence after he finished speaking.

“So His Majesty wants me to leave the capital temporarily and recuperate here. Essentially, it’s a form of protection. I will return to my position as General of the Wolves?”

“That’s certainly protection,” the duke nodded. “As for the title ‘General of the Wolves,’ Andessa—your title was never stripped. You will return to the army and soon to Winterfort. His Majesty trusts you. He knows what you sacrificed to protect the empire’s interests. On the empire’s northwest frontier, there’s no one more suitable than you. And…”

The duke’s voice faltered for a moment. Andessa couldn’t help but ask, “And…?”

“After the Battle of Winterfort, the empire suffered heavy losses. The damage from the Mad God was far worse than the outside world guessed—I won’t give you the exact figures here, but you can learn them in time. Many renowned legions were disbanded, including several national knight orders. Numerous officers died, including senior commanders. The Winterwolf Legion and its command system, which you preserved, will now serve as the backbone. In fact, to some extent, you are the only remaining elite force with a relatively intact structure on the empire’s northwest border.”

Andessa said nothing, but her breath caught.

“Now you should understand why His Majesty went to such lengths to build your reputation as a hero, so you can return smoothly and regain military command.”

“No generals left to use…” Andessa murmured with a complicated expression, then sighed softly. “At least the empire has passed its most dangerous phase. With the alliance formed, we don’t have to worry about external wars for now. As long as internal stability holds and the economy recovers through international trade, most pressures will ease…”

Duke Ferdinand turned to look at Andessa, surprised. “I didn’t expect you to start paying attention to these matters. The Andessa I remember never cared about commerce or domestic affairs.”

“…There wasn’t much to do at Solinfort,” Andessa said, a bit embarrassed, reflecting on whether she had neglected this ‘homework’ in the past. “In my free time, I read books, newspapers, and listened to broadcasts. I find the Cecilian newspapers and broadcasts very instructive. Though popular in style, their content is comprehensive. Ordinary people, scholars, and politicians alike can find something to think about. It’s very different from what we’ve always had.”

The duke’s eyes darkened for a moment as he listened. His mind drifted to a recent long conversation with Emperor Rosetta after his return to Aldern, and the topic of thought—the right to think regardless of class, status, or rank.

Many nobles in Aldern doubted this. The foolish dismissed it as meaningless; the wise saw it as a threat to the nobility’s foundation. But Ferdinand knew that with the disclosure of several internal documents from the Theocracy Council, those doubts would soon vanish like words written in the sand, washed away by the next tide.

He shook his head, pushing aside these unrelated thoughts, and looked Andessa up and down. “Sounds like your attitude toward Cecile has changed a lot. You rarely spoke positively about that land before.”

“Will this change affect how Aldern’s upper class views me?”

“It will, especially now that you’ve just returned from Cecile. Many eyes are watching for your comments. Though the alliance is formed and peace is the consensus, many remain on edge. And in the long run, we do need some people to stay vigilant,” Ferdinand said bluntly. “So you must watch your words in public. Of course, I know you can handle that yourself.”

He paused, then looked at his granddaughter with curiosity. “So, tell me—what changed your view of that land? Have you let go of the grudges from back then?”

“Gawain Cecile is indeed a respectable man. There are many things on that land worth learning from. Also…” Andessa hesitated over her words, faltering on the last part. After much deliberation, she finally decided, “Also, my father is still alive.”

Duke Peridnan’s expression froze instantly, his entire body seeming to turn to stone, utterly unresponsive. For a full ten seconds, he remained like that before suddenly gasping in as if remembering how to breathe. His eyes widened as he stared at Andesha’s face. “What did you say?! You’re telling me Bard… he’s still alive?”

“Yes, Father is alive,” Andesha breathed softly, finally gathering her thoughts. The second half of her sentence came out smoothly, “He’s in Cecile.”

“In Cecile?!” Duke Peridnan’s mouth dropped open. A flood of thoughts raced through the old man’s mind, his thoughts more chaotic than ever before. It took all his effort just to keep thinking clearly. “You mean he was captured? Was he taken prisoner by the Ansu back then? And now he’s a prisoner of Cecile? Or…”

“Calm down, Grandfather,” Andesha stepped forward and grasped his arm. She hadn’t expected this man—known throughout the empire for his strength, composure, and authority—to lose his composure like this. But she thought back to the day she reunited with her father, remembering how confused she had been then, no better than Peridnan now. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s far more complicated than you imagine. Father was never captured by Cecile, nor by the Ansu. He… he’s been through a lot. He’s no longer the man you once knew, but he’s still reliable and honorable.”

“He…” Peridnan opened his mouth again. Knowing Andesha’s character, the fact that she was speaking in such a convoluted way could only mean one thing: the situation was unimaginably complex. “What is he doing now?”

“He’s a researcher for the Cecile Empire.”

“A researcher? You mean one of those bookish types… A general, now turned scholar?”

“Yes.”

“What is he researching?”

“I don’t fully understand, but it seems to be about how to intercept some kind of… signal from afar. It’s not a secret there, but even when openly discussed, few can truly grasp it.”

“So he’s become a… high-level scholar?”

“That seems to be the case.”

“By the ancestors of our family,” Duke Peridnan groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “What… what on earth has happened?”

(End of chapter)