Chapter 1125: Visiting Thorin

Belsethia stared at the streak of green on the horizon for a long time before finally realizing it was a stretch of treetops—or more precisely, the very edge of the canopy, a cluster of branches reaching high into the sky. Viewed from above, it formed a kind of border at the far end of the horizon.

The Silver Empress’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“That’s the Thorin Great Tree,” Gawain noticed Belsethia’s gaze and smiled, pointing at the holographic projection. “It’s a branch extending from the southern main trunk. Actually, we’re still quite far away—the external monitors zoom in on distant images, and as we get closer to the Thorin area, the aircraft slows down even more.”

“It’s that massive?!” Belsethia couldn’t help but exclaim. “Beltira… just how large an area does she cover?”

“The entire Thorin Fortress, plus what used to be the whole Thorin territory. At first, it wasn’t this big, but after breaking through the surface, the Great Tree went through a rapid expansion phase for nearly half a year. It only slowed down once the immense natural forces inside reached equilibrium. In fact, Beltira said she could still grow some more, but she’s worried it might disrupt the ecological cycles of the Holy Spirit Plains, so she stopped at this size.”

“I read reports from the north describing the Thorin Great Tree, but honestly, words can’t do it justice compared to seeing it in person,” Belsethia sighed softly, shaking her head in awe. “I can’t even imagine… what kind of overwhelming natural power could give birth to such a miracle.”

“The Cult of the End of All Things once replicated a ‘god,’ though incomplete, it was made with genuine divine essence. The Thorin Great Tree actually sprouted from their ‘incubation chamber’ for creating gods. So you could say it’s a ‘divine miracle,’” Gawain explained. “Though the cult failed, they proved one thing: divine power can be harnessed by mortals—if you find the right method.”

“Born from a god’s incubation chamber…” Belsethia murmured. As the nominal High Priestess of the Nature God, though she had long since abandoned the old faith, her theological knowledge remained solid. Gawain’s words quickly brought to mind some ancient texts. “So this tree symbolizes the ‘Cycle of Rebirth’ described in the sacred scriptures? A physical manifestation of myth?”

Gawain thought for a moment. “Some scholars believe so, but beyond religious symbolism, there’s no solid theoretical evidence. So it can’t be taken as fact.”

“Then… what does ‘He’ think of this?” Belsethia couldn’t help but ask, lowering her voice. “I mean…”

She meant Amon, the Nature God, but here she didn’t dare say his name outright.

Gawain caught her meaning and gave a slightly odd smile. “He advises us to trust science and not get caught up in religious symbolism or mythological interpretations…”

Belsethia was speechless.

“Ahem,” Gawain cleared his throat, sensing the awkwardness, then changed the subject. “The Thorin Great Tree is probably the last trace the Cult of the End of All Things left on this land. All their technological achievements have been taken over by Cecil and are being converted into medical and biochemical products for the people. But another group of cultists hiding in the wasteland remains a threat.”

“Indeed,” Belsethia’s expression grew serious. “After hearing your intelligence, I ordered the mages of the Starry Sanctuary to re-examine the logs from the towers along the Magnificent Wall, especially those monitoring energy flows in the wasteland. While we haven’t found concrete evidence of the cultists’ activities, we did uncover some suspicious traces previously unnoticed.

“Specifically, a few logs recorded small-scale energy concentrations and unnatural transfers within the wasteland. In other logs, some sentinel towers showed communication resets and interruptions measured in seconds. You know, when we first learned of cult activity in the wasteland, we checked these parameters, assuming the cultists were trying to hack the sentinel system’s channels. But now it seems… these clues suggest they’ve been collecting stray magical energy there for a long time and have developed some way to convert chaotic magic for their use.

“Unfortunately, all this intelligence is indirect. We still lack direct monitoring inside the wasteland. The sentinels mainly maintain the barrier and can’t move. In the past, we only worried about mindless aberrations, so the sentinels’ surveillance was more than enough. But now, facing cunning cultists, those towers aren’t sufficient.”

Gawain nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping the cockpit. “Over the past two years, we’ve built observation posts and forward bases along the southern foothills of the Dark Mountains to improve monitoring of the Gondor Wasteland. But the effect is limited. Recently, we’ve been trying to find breakthroughs from the air, which might give us a clearer picture of what’s happening inside the Magnificent Wall.”

“From the air?” Belsethia frowned slightly, then realized the basis of this was the anti-gravity aircraft she was riding. “You mean… using these so-called ‘Dragon Riders’—magitech devices—to penetrate the Magnificent Wall and directly scout the Gondor Wasteland?”

“‘Dragon Rider’ is just one model of anti-gravity aircraft. There are many others, like the one we’re on now, officially called the ‘Cloud’s Base’—a transport craft designed for personnel,” Gawain explained first, then nodded. “We are indeed trying to develop more efficient and safer aircraft for direct reconnaissance missions in the wasteland. After all, any military operation’s success depends on reliable intelligence. If we want to reclaim the wasteland, we need to see clearly where we’re stepping.”

“That won’t be easy,” Belsethia frowned, clearly skeptical. “Air units are the best scouts, but their fragility is a fatal weakness. The wasteland’s aerial environment is notoriously hostile—magical turbulence is constant, and near the clouds, large-scale energy discharges can happen at any moment. Magic radiation from the Deep Blue Well reflects repeatedly between clouds and ground, like a dense rain of blades threatening anything that takes to the sky. Conventional magical shields are inefficient against that, and while heavy armor is reliable… it’s impossible to mount on aircraft that need to fly agilely.”

“True, the wasteland’s sky is a completely different environment. Strong protection is essential for survival,” Gawain said, then suddenly asked, “Speaking of which, with the Starry Sanctuary’s protective power… could it safely fly over the Gondor Wasteland?”

Belsethia paused, uncertain. “I haven’t really thought about that… Theoretically, yes. The Starry Sanctuary has very powerful, multilayered magical shields, sturdy ancient alloy armor, and internal field stabilizers. Flying just above the wasteland should be fine. But that’s only theory—the Starry Sanctuary is the Silver Empire’s national treasure. There’s only one, it can’t be remade or easily repaired. I doubt anyone would risk sending it on a reconnaissance mission into the wasteland…”

She glanced at Gawain, suddenly wary. “Even if you asked, I’m sure the answer would be no.”

“Cough, I didn’t mean that literally,” Gawain quickly waved his hand. Then he looked thoughtful. “But that does suggest that giant airborne fortresses might be useful in the wasteland’s harsh environment…”

Belsethia seemed not to hear him. Her attention returned to the magitech aircraft itself. The ‘Cloud’s Base’ was steadily approaching the Thorin Great Tree, whose towering canopy now filled a large portion of the holographic display. This flight was a novel experience for the Silver Empress, very different from the ‘flight’ she felt on the Starry Sanctuary’s command throne or riding a giant eagle.

On the command throne, she felt connected to countless ancient machines. Her senses were stripped, encoded, transferred, and fed back. She was like a single component in that ancient airborne fortress, watching cold data flash through her mind while the machines hummed in incomprehensible tongues. She had little energy left to enjoy the feeling of looking down on the land.

Riding a giant eagle was another matter: the eagle and rider shared a bond of mind and will, so it didn’t drain her as much as the Starry Sanctuary. But no matter how broad the eagle’s back, it was hardly a comfortable seat. No matter how fine the saddle, riding a giant eagle was mentally taxing. The rider also had to focus on controlling a gentle wind shield to protect against high-altitude winds and temperature changes, making the flight experience even worse.

The ‘Cloud’s Base’ offered the most satisfying flight experience she’d ever had.

Is this for sale? Surely it is… If it proves useful in the southern continent, maybe they could import a batch. It would be better than relying on giant eagles or the lost ‘Primordial Elven Technology.’

Lost in thought, she noticed her attendant, Ilian, looking tense and asked, “Ilian, are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I’m just… a bit unaccustomed,” Ilian smiled awkwardly. Though she tried to hide it, her nervousness was obvious. “After all, this is my first time on a Cecil anti-gravity aircraft.”

“You didn’t react like this when working at the Starry Sanctuary,” Belsethia said. “That’s an anti-gravity flying city, isn’t it?”

“That’s different,” Ilian replied quickly. “The Starry Sanctuary is a flying city. As long as you don’t stand near the edge of the deck, working and living inside feels no different than standing on solid ground. But here… everything’s buzzing.”

No sooner had she spoken than a loud thud came from below the aircraft, followed by a strong vibration. The high elf attendant’s face instantly paled as she jumped up—only to be yanked back into her seat by the safety belt.

“Ah! Are we crashing?!”

Gawain twitched at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t expected that Ilian—the same Ilian who had run wild with Belsethia seven centuries ago—had a slight fear of heights.

“…We’ve landed.”

So how did this terrified girl manage to travel all the way from the Silver Empire to the Northern Continent riding giant eagles with the entire elven delegation? Did they knock her out, strap her to an eagle’s back, and have another eagle rider escort her?

Eliane looked awkward, glancing sideways at the Silver Empress. Belsethia sighed softly, a hint of helplessness in her breath. She turned her gaze toward the holographic display at the front of the cockpit, only to find that the arcane device had somehow powered down. The dark canopy shielding the cockpit was gradually fading away, and brilliant sunlight streamed in from outside. The faint click of mechanical locks releasing echoed from the edges of the hatch.

Gawain unbuckled his seatbelt and rose from his chair. “Let’s go. Time to pay Beltira a visit.”

Belsethia stepped out of the craft, but before setting foot on the ground, she instinctively looked up—only to see a clear blue sky dotted with sparse clouds. The vast, leafy canopy she had expected to block out the sun was nowhere in sight.

“What are you looking for?” Gawain’s voice came from beside her.

Belsethia replied without thinking, “The towering trees of Solin?”

Gawain chuckled. “Look down. You’re standing right on the treetops.”

Startled, Belsethia’s attention shifted downward. Beneath her feet stretched a massive landing platform, its surface etched with faint wood grain patterns. Beyond it lay an even broader expanse of lush greenery. She had caught a glimpse of this verdant sea from the corner of her eye but hadn’t realized how meticulously arranged the smooth green surface was—layer upon layer of precisely grown leaves forming the ground itself. Farther off, she spotted antennas perched atop the Solin treetops, energy towers, research facilities, and countless other structures whose names she couldn’t even guess.

Patrolling the edges of this green expanse were treefolk warriors, armed with heavy arcane cannons, standing sentinel as living anti-air defenses.

The Silver Empress paused, then inhaled softly. “…It’s breathtaking. A marvel rivaling even the Star Sanctum.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” a voice rasped nearby, carrying a woody, textured quality, as if the sound itself was woven from bark and leaves. “It took me a long time to nurture this place into what it is now.”

Belsethia turned toward the voice. In the next moment, she saw the figure standing beside the craft—a woman with a graceful upper body, but whose lower limbs were an uncanny, plant-like structure. A cascade of blooming vines draped behind her like a cloak, stretching from her form into the layers of massive leaves beyond. The vines gently writhed in the sunlight, rustling softly.

Belsethia halted, her eyes fixed on the vaguely familiar face and the strange, non-human body.

Yet no matter how she tried, this vision did not align with the Beltira she remembered.

(End of chapter)