Chapter 1143: An Unexpected Ending

The incubation chamber inevitably fell silent once more. Highlord sat solemnly in his reclined chair, lost in deep thought. The faint hum of the ventilation system seemed distant, and the cool breeze dispersed the stifling heat of the summer afternoon—but it could not ease the weight and shadow cast by the truths of the world. Time slipped by unnoticed until Enya’s voice broke the stillness from beside him.

“It is precisely because the natural laws of this world have been so merciless from the very beginning that seeking refuge in the gods became the only path mortals could ultimately choose… Yet even divine protection is merely another facet of those cold, unyielding rules. The weakness of all living beings before the forces of nature lies here: they can only face a bleak future head-on or choose a bottle of poison to drown their sorrows.

“I have witnessed many glorious civilizations. They pursued truth tirelessly, or faced their gods with courage. Many great individuals made wise decisions that allowed their peoples to flourish—to the point of reaching the skies, even knocking on the gates of Tal’Rond. And the most outstanding among them eventually learned the truth.

“Regrettably, I saw them tremble before that truth. Some bowed their heads and returned to the embrace of their gods, clipping their own wings in hopes of eking out a long existence on this planet… No race dared risk losing divine protection to knock on the doors of the cosmos—not a single one.”

Highlord’s gaze followed the runes drifting across Enya’s golden eggshell. “Now, it is we who dominate the continent of Loren. Those once-glorious civilizations have left almost no trace. Their hopes proved futile—the pantheon was a ticking time bomb, expanding relentlessly like a magical tide that ultimately swallowed them whole.”

“But at least they lived longer than other races,” Enya said softly.

“Yet the dragons of Tal’Rond refused to accept such ‘peace.’ They chose the hardest path,” Highlord said. “They shattered the protection you offered and placed their faith in mortal strength and wisdom to stand against this cold universe. The frailty of living beings may be a fact, but at last, there is a race that dares to raise its head.”

Enya was silent for a moment, then chuckled lightly. “After witnessing the starships of the Voyagers streak across the sky, their jump engines lighting up the night, after seeing vast fleets set sail into the cosmos, and the shadows cast by colony ships covering half a continent—who would want to live forever as a speck of dust, head bowed, in the universe? Perhaps from the day the Voyagers arrived, the fate of the dragons was forever changed… Though they did not take us with them, they showed us a path—a way to survive among the stars.

“Dragons are a stubborn race. As their former deity, I know this well. Since the day the Voyagers left, the dragons’ heads have never bowed.”

Highlord sighed inwardly. No matter where the Voyagers were now, or whether their long expedition had reached its goal, their journey through this star system had changed so much. Their greatest legacy to this world might not be the advanced satellites or space stations, nor the loosening of ancient bonds on this planet’s native civilizations, but a possibility—a chance to keep moving forward even in seemingly hopeless darkness.

“I want to know,” he suddenly asked, “how exactly does your divine power protect Tal’Rond during the magical tides? Though we do not intend to choose the path of ‘divine protection,’ I believe one thing: since gods are part of the natural laws of this world, the ‘miracles’ and ‘shelters’ associated with them must follow certain rules. If these rules can be understood and analyzed, then surely we can learn to control them safely.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing you’d say,” Enya’s tone carried a faint smile, quickly fading into a sigh. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer.”

“You don’t?” Highlord’s eyes widened. “You’ve protected the dragons for over a million years with your power, yet you don’t know how you do it?”

“I know many things, but this is the one realm I cannot explore—because gods cannot analyze thought itself,” Enya said regretfully. “I once tried to uncover the principle behind how I shield the dragons’ ‘cognitive system’ during the magical tides, hoping that if I ever perished, this knowledge could help them build new defenses. But after several tides, I realized this process exceeded my… ‘observation.’ I don’t know how to explain it to you, because my perspective and self-boundaries differ from mortals’. To give an analogy: it’s like a person unable to see what’s behind them without a mirror.”

Highlord listened intently, then furrowed his brow in thought before breaking the silence. “Actually, we do have a clue… If gods cannot analyze thought itself, then the key to protecting observers during the magical tides must be ‘thought’ itself?”

“I think that’s a reasonable guess,” Enya agreed. “That’s also my line of thinking—though I can’t verify it myself.”

“That just happens to be the direction we’re researching now,” Highlord exhaled, his frown easing slightly. “Controllable thought, mind-based defenses, divine shielding technology, mental calibration… Perhaps we are on the right path?”

The runes on the golden egg brightened, moving with a lighter rhythm. After a few seconds, Enya spoke again, her voice tinged with both relief and caution. “Maybe… after all these years, this cold world has finally decided to show a little kindness to its living beings.”

“More than the world’s kindness, I prefer to believe that any chance of survival depends on mortals fighting for it themselves,” Highlord smiled and shook his head. “But I still hope you’re right, and I look to the future with optimism.”

Enya chuckled softly, then asked, “Is there anything else you want to know?”

Highlord thought carefully, reviewing what he had learned and whether any questions remained. After some reflection, he felt he had gained enough for today. Just as he was about to rise and thank her, a question he had never considered before suddenly surfaced, halting his movement.

“There’s one thing,” he said, sitting upright and furrowing his brow again. “About the Holy Dragon Principality… Tal’Rond survives the magical tides thanks to the great shield and your protection. But what about the Holy Dragon Principality? They lie beyond your sight and outside Tal’Rond’s shield. How do they…?”

Enya was silent for a moment before her low voice reached him. “How many Holy Dragon Principalities do you think there have been?”

Highlord was speechless.

“Highlord, my friend, seeking a path to survival in this world has never been a warm, gentle fairy tale, nor a knight’s game where a hero’s call brings light,” the voice from the golden egg said softly but firmly. “Though I know you understand this well, sometimes we must remind ourselves.”

Highlord said nothing, absentmindedly tapping the armrest of his chair. His expression grew somber and serious. After a moment, Enya’s voice returned.

“We’ve talked a lot today. Before we finish, I have a small suggestion.”

Highlord looked up toward her. “A suggestion?”

“This planet is but a speck of dust in the universe, yet even here, many unexplored realms remain. You’ve made great strides in deep-space navigation and have allies like the sea witches. If you have the resources, explore those distant, unfamiliar continents. Past civilizations rose on other lands; though they have vanished, they may have left useful traces. Some continents might still hold relics from the Voyagers—precious secrets buried within.

“In the mythic age, the dragons and I were bound by the ‘dual shackles,’ unable to explore things too far from Tal’Rond or deeply connected to the Voyagers… But now, those shackles are gone.”

Highlord hadn’t expected such a concrete and clear suggestion. His expression grew earnest as he nodded seriously. “Thank you very much for your advice. Rest assured, I understand the value of oceanic exploration. In fact, exploring other continents and distant seas is already part of my future plans. It will be one of the Alliance’s next goals.”

“That’s good to hear,” Enya said with a relieved tone, her voice brightening again. “Any other questions?”

Highlord thought carefully, then slowly shook his head. “Not for now—I’ve gained plenty of information today, enough for me and the scholars to digest for a while. Of course, if I think of anything else, I’ll come to you.”

“You’re always welcome—provided I can answer,” Enya laughed softly. Seeing Highlord rise, she suddenly added, “Don’t rush off just yet. After all this talk, would you like something to drink?”

Highlord paused, then a smile of pleasant surprise spread across his face. He glanced at a long table behind Enya and asked eagerly, “You succeeded?”

“Not quite. Since the ‘reflection’ of divine miracles can no longer be reproduced, I can only try to mix a ‘mortal beverage’ from mundane ingredients based on your description,” Enya said as invisible magic swirled. A cylindrical container and a porcelain cup floated behind her. The container emitted a faint sound as it hovered, clearly filled with liquid and perhaps ice. “It probably tastes far from what you remember, but I hope it’s at least palatable enough to ease your fatigue and stress.”

“I’m already looking forward to it,” Highlord laughed, watching the container pour a dark brown liquid into the cup, bubbles popping softly.

“Has anyone else tasted it yet?” he asked.

“No, it’s made just for you,” Enya said, handing him the cup. “I tried a bit myself, but my taste buds seem different from ordinary mortals… I’m not even sure if I have taste at all.”

Highlord took the cup and looked down at the swirling dark liquid. Enya’s words gave him pause, but after confirming no strange odors, he raised the cup and took a long gulp.

An indescribable, overwhelmingly harsh flavor hit him instantly—so intense it was almost ineffable. It carried a biting chill and a sudden release of compressed gas, bombarding his senses with countless sharp, fierce stimuli. Even his legendary willpower held out less than two seconds.

“Pfft—”

To be fair, spraying a woman with water at such close range isn’t exactly polite—especially when that woman, strictly speaking, is a goddess (even if she currently happens to be in egg form). But Gawain just couldn’t hold back.

The dark brown liquid trickled down Enya’s eggshell. The atmosphere in the incubation chamber grew a bit awkward. Gawain stood there clutching most of a cup filled with that indescribable concoction, his expression stiff as he watched the scene unfold. After a long pause, he finally managed, “Uh, sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

“Looks like my first attempt wasn’t successful,” Enya’s voice came calmly and seriously from inside the shell. “I’ll need to adjust the proportions of the ingredients… Do you have any suggestions based on what you just tasted?”

“…I think I’ve already forgotten what it tasted like,” Gawain said, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Anyway, my only advice is: don’t let anyone else try this. They probably don’t have legendary-level constitutions.”

“Understood. It seems the failure is quite severe—more thorough improvements are necessary,” Enya replied, still perfectly serious. “Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. At least I didn’t swallow it,” Gawain said, half laughing, half grimacing. He felt like he should comfort Enya over her ‘failed experiment,’ but the words caught in his throat. The goddess’s voice held no hint of defeat—instead, it was filled with a kind of fighting spirit. That made him think maybe not comforting her was the better choice. Besides, what Enya really needed right now was a wipe-down. “I should probably help you clean up first…”

“Betty will help wipe it off later. It’s about time she came to clean my eggshell anyway,” Enya said with surprising nonchalance. “More importantly, do you need to change your clothes?”

Gawain looked down at his chest and realized his shirt was soaked too. He sighed, half amused, half exasperated. “Well, I didn’t expect this deep conversation to end like this… In a way, it actually relieved a lot of my stress. I’ll be going now.”

“Take care. I’m sorry I can’t see you off further. And please look forward to my next batch—I just came up with an improved formula, and I’m very confident this time.”

Gawain: “…”

(End of chapter)