Chapter 1131: Gawain’s Sense of Urgency

Some things Gawain could calculate clearly in his mind, and as the Silver Empress, Belsethia could see through them just as well. She knew full well that these antenna arrays—clearly top-secret technology—were firmly controlled by the Cecil Empire. Mastery over these antennas meant holding the sole gateway to communicate with that “signal” (if it could indeed communicate). Gawain claimed he wanted to launch this monitoring project jointly with all the nations of the Alliance, but would he really hand over the keys to this gateway?

Obviously not. Gawain might be a generous ruler, but first and foremost, he was the leader of the Cecil Empire. For something whose future was still uncertain, he would never entrust its control to outsiders.

Still, Belsethia was willing to accept this “invitation” with grace. Since the Cecil Empire held the core technology and the “first-mover advantage,” it was only natural and reasonable for them to lead the monitoring project. But the right to participate was equally important—especially for the Silver Empire, which was also technologically strong. As long as they could be involved, the elves were confident they would reap their share of the future technological breakthroughs.

Of course, whether the signal was a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.

“When do you plan to make this public?” After a brief pause, Belsethia suddenly asked, “I mean… to announce it to the whole society… do you intend to reveal this to the general public?”

At the end, the Silver Empress hesitated slightly. She knew one of Gawain’s current goals was to “bring knowledge to the people, return thinking to the populace,” to do everything possible to “inform the masses,” reducing the common folk’s awe and even deification of the unknown. She understood the necessity of this approach, but now, faced with a secret pointing to an unexplored realm of humanity’s knowledge, she suddenly felt uncertain.

Could ordinary people, lacking in knowledge, truly accept something like this? After encountering such a secret, wouldn’t they inevitably give rise to new beliefs born from their awe of the mysterious stars?

Gawain understood Belsethia’s concerns well. It was indeed complicated. After some thought, he broke the silence: “This might be the first real challenge the Theocratic Council will face after its establishment—when cutting-edge technology suddenly touches realms beyond ordinary understanding, even areas related to theology, how do we explain everything to the public in a way that ensures a smooth transition? How do we let blind reverence safely land on the soil of rational logic?

“This issue must be confronted head-on, because as long as our technology keeps advancing, situations like this will keep arising. Today it’s a signal from the stars; tomorrow it might be an explanation of the Shadow Realm or an understanding of the source of magic. If we avoid explaining these things publicly, it’s essentially no different from the old ‘god-making’—the public’s doubts and awe toward advanced technology will accumulate, eventually spawning ‘theological interpretations’ centered on new technology, even leading to mechanical cults or gods of technology.”

Belsethia raised an eyebrow. “You mean we really should open up the signal and all the explanations around it to the public?”

“Yes, but with careful consideration of public opinion guidance and the thinking habits of the masses. It must be a gradual, limited, and controlled opening,” Gawain said thoughtfully. His mind raced as he suddenly realized the mysterious signal might be more than just a “greeting from beyond the stars.” In a way, it could serve as a kind of “live exercise” for the Theocratic Council after its founding. Though unexpected, that very unpredictability was part of its value. “We have to recognize that ordinary people’s knowledge and ways of thinking differ from those of true astrologers, so we can’t communicate with them as we do with scholars…

“We should first work on ‘popularizing’ the professional knowledge, translating technical jargon into language that at least sixty to seventy percent of ordinary people can understand. We need less formal propaganda platforms and speakers to explain—or rather, re-explain—those astronomical concepts that were common knowledge among the upper classes during the Gondor era. Of course, even then, they probably won’t grasp the difference between stars and planets, but at least they’ll understand one thing: the ‘world above’ is comprehensible. It’s not unreachable; it’s within the sight of mortals.

“We can’t just start by telling them about ‘interstellar communication.’ That’s too easy for ill-intentioned people to twist into divine revelations or ominous ‘omens’…

“Besides the official narrative, we need widespread grassroots guidance. We need people moving among the masses, observing what’s discussed in taverns and town squares. We must organize a large number of influential and trustworthy ‘spokespersons’—they might not be true experts, but in the eyes of the public, their words will be more approachable and credible than those of scholars spouting obscure jargon. We have to manage these ‘spokespersons.’ If they already exist, we bring them under our wing; if not, we build them from scratch.

“The minds of the masses aren’t inherently ignorant; they’re just uncultivated soil. If we don’t till it, it will easily be overrun by blind and foolish ideas…”

Gawain spoke while thinking deeply, pausing occasionally to better organize his words and thoughts. He went on to explain many details, causing both Belteria and Belsethia to look thoughtfully pensive. At the very end, he didn’t forget to add:

“Also, Belsethia, remember, the purpose of all this ‘propaganda’ and ‘disclosure’ isn’t to pursue absolute accuracy or exhaustive detail—too much technical detail is hard for the public to understand and they don’t want to hear it. What we must ensure is that the overall direction is correct, the basic concepts are factual, and the main goal is…”

“To get ordinary people thinking,” Belsethia interrupted, nodding eagerly before Gawain could finish. “To help them avoid falling into habitual awe and theological explanations when facing the unknown, and instead learn to try understanding everything through logic. Whether their shallow understanding is correct or not isn’t important; what matters is that they don’t immediately take that signal as the voice of a god.”

“Exactly. That’s the Theocratic Council’s most important task,” Gawain nodded. “Looks like you’ve grasped my theory—that’s rare.”

He sighed softly. “Even today, in Cecil, many still think I want to completely educate the masses, hoping everyone can think rationally, be wise and learned… Honestly, even I don’t dare to dream of that.”

While Gawain and Belsethia discussed seriously, Belteria remained silent for a long time, seemingly lost in thought. When the conversation paused, she suddenly said, “Even so, some will inevitably try to mislead the public around the signal and the stars. They might be scheming politicians, conservative priests desperate to find loopholes under pressure from the Theocratic Council, or even cultists with ill intent from the start… Cecil might manage better, but not all nations can effectively control society. In such cases, the public becomes fertile ground for heretical beliefs.”

“When that happens, we may have to activate the Council’s Theocratic Tribunal,” Belsethia said, locking eyes with Belteria. “Of course, that’s a last resort—if we can achieve our goals through widespread education, literacy campaigns, and intellectual liberation, we won’t need to resort to force.”

At this, the elven ruler sighed deeply, a faint smile under the starlight as she looked at Gawain beside her. “What you just shared has been invaluable. I’ve held the reins of an empire for seven centuries, sometimes even thinking of myself as a successful ruler, but now I see… there’s still so much for me to learn.

“These insights don’t sound like something Uncle Gawain would come up with. Are they teachings from the ‘Wanderers Beyond the Realms’?”

“Does it matter?” Gawain smiled. “We’re already the same individual. Even if the big picture comes from the ‘Wanderers Beyond the Realms,’ the details are built on Gawain Cecil’s understanding of this world.”

“That’s true,” Belsethia smiled softly, a hint of emotion in her voice. “That said, what you just described… won’t be achieved overnight. Looks like I need to go back and think this through carefully.”

She turned away from the antenna array behind her and gave Gawain a slight bow. “It’s late. I’ll take my leave for now—can you continue showing me around this amazing place tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Gawain replied with a smile, then turned to Belteria beside him. “Please escort her back.”

No sooner had Gawain spoken than rustling sounds came from the depths of the nearby foliage. Suddenly, thick flowering vines burst forth from the layered leaves, writhing and twisting as another incarnation of Belteria emerged silently and swiftly, approaching the Silver Empress. “I’ll take you to your resting place—Eileen has been waiting for you a long time.”

The Silver Empress looked surprised to see two Belterias before her, then smiled politely and followed the second incarnation, turning away from the antenna platform.

Only after their figures disappeared into the night did Gawain glance at Belteria. “You can now create and control two incarnations at once?”

Belteria smiled slightly, a trace of pride and mischief on her face. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

Gawain: “…”

A few wildly inappropriate images flashed through his mind, nearly making him shiver on this warm summer night. He quickly shook his head to dispel those mental intrusions and fell back into thought.

After a brief moment of consideration, he looked at Belteria seriously. “I remember you said your main body can still keep growing… and that there’s a lot of potential for further growth?”

“In theory… if we only consider ‘growth,’ the growth potential of the Solin Great Tree is far from maxed out. Even I don’t know how big it can get,” Belteria said carefully after some thought. “But in reality, many factors come into play—first, whether we can ensure sufficient nutrient supply; second, how to maintain stability in such a massive structure. These two are relatively easy to solve—I can consciously adjust new branches and root systems to maintain structural strength and nutrient flow…

“Then there’s the environmental carrying capacity. My canopy already affects the entire Solin Plain’s ecosystem. Under conscious control, this impact has reached a beneficial balance, but if the canopy keeps expanding, I’ll have to consider the entire Holy Spirit Plain’s ecosystem, which introduces too many unpredictable variables…

“Finally, and most importantly—my cognitive ability.”

Belteria tapped her forehead, though it was a symbolic gesture—both she and Gawain knew there was only wood inside that head.

She meant her thinking capacity.

“You mean… the Solin Great Tree is so large that if it keeps expanding, it will affect your mind,” Gawain frowned. “That your spirit won’t be able to command such a huge body, causing parts of the tree to go out of control?”

“That’s basically it,” Beltira nodded. “Although now I’ve… ‘transformed’ into this form, and my mind has undergone some changes along with it, allowing me to control this plant-like body, my mental capacity still has its limits. If the great tree keeps expanding endlessly, eventually I’ll lose awareness and control over parts of it.”

Gawain’s tone grew serious. “What would happen if parts of the great tree went out of control?”

“Don’t worry,” Beltira said, smiling at Gawain’s grave expression. “Those rogue branches won’t suddenly turn into monsters and leap out from the canopy. Like those ‘Beltira puppets’ that got severed from the vines, the uncontrolled branches would probably just become ordinary twigs—at worst, they’d wither and fall off, kind of like…”

A random word popped into Gawain’s mind: “Hair loss?”

Overtime leads to hair loss.jpg.

Beltira blinked. “…While that’s a rather poetic way to put it, I can’t help but feel a little insulted.”

Gawain quickly cleared his throat. “Ahem, I wasn’t talking about you. I mean… never mind. Let’s just pretend I said nothing.”

Beltira gave him a suspicious look, then after a moment, looked away. “Alright, more or less what you said. Those out-of-control parts of the great tree would shed like… hair. By the way, why the sudden questions? Didn’t you say the great tree’s expansion has already reached a sufficient scale, and it’s best not to push it further?”

Gawain was silent for a moment, then quietly looked up at the night sky.

The distant constellation of Frosthaven twinkled silently above. Somewhere on a star in that direction, perhaps a pair of eyes like his were gazing out into the same universe, quietly pondering questions of fate.

“I just suddenly felt a sense of urgency,” he whispered, breaking the silence.

(End of chapter)