Chapter 1183: The Venture

Gawain’s holographic projection seemed lost in thought. For a moment, he didn’t respond to Rosetta. After several seconds, he finally spoke: “I have no technical doubts. Those matters are best left to the experts. What concerns me is how Typhon perceives the risks behind this endeavor, and whether you’ve made sufficient contingency plans and… mental preparations.”

“This is a bold undertaking fraught with immense risk. Rest assured, Gawain, I am fully aware of that,” Rosetta said slowly, his voice low and grave. “Apart from you, there’s probably no mortal in this world who understands the dangers of gods better than I do. No one is more cautious in this field—I and my family have spent two centuries dealing with an out-of-control deity. We do not take such matters lightly.

“As for your specific concerns, our experts have devised six different contingency plans. They cover scenarios like the activation of the divine realm, the lingering will of the war god within it, spiritual contamination beyond mortal immunity levels, and possible interference from other deities. Of course, no matter how many plans we make, we must always be ready for the unimaginable. I believe we share that understanding.

“I will send the full plans and additional technical data to Cecil shortly. You can review them before making your judgment.”

Gawain’s hologram finally nodded slowly. After a moment’s consideration, he said in a deep voice, “Since you’ve already accounted for that, I can be upfront with you—Cecil will provide strong security guarantees for the divine realm exploration project… We will have a true ‘expert’ serving as advisor and guide for the expedition.”

“A true expert?” Rosetta blinked in surprise, then his expression shifted slightly as if he had guessed something. “Could you mean…”

“This is top secret,” Gawain nodded gently. “A deity will be involved—rest assured, she has been ‘neutralized’ and is fully on our side. But you must be prepared: her assistance will bring great power, but also additional risks. No ‘believers’ can be part of the operation, and no one with wavering will must know about this.”

Rosetta’s face grew solemn, and he nodded gravely. “Understood. I will personally oversee this. Everyone involved is a scholar or a warrior of iron will, many of whom have secretly aided the Augustus family against divine forces for years. They are all tested and trustworthy.”

Gawain nodded again. They then discussed some project collaboration details before Gawain asked, “One more thing—I want to know where you plan to open this ‘gate’?”

In religious terms, the “Gate to the Divine Realm” is an almost ethereal, spiritual concept, existing only in the minds of devout believers and beyond-dimensional perception. But what the Typhon people intend to do is to solidify and materialize this intangible gate through technology—to create a real portal that mortals can enter. That means there must be a physical “location” to open it.

“Considering the risks, the gate must be far from any bustling area. Ideally, it should be in an uninhabited zone,” Rosetta said after some thought. “We’ll also set up sufficient ‘safety measures’ to ensure that if the gate goes out of control, we can destroy its physical structure in the real world as quickly as possible. At the same time, when functioning normally, it must withstand a certain degree of external impact to prevent accidents…”

Listening to Rosetta, Gawain nodded in agreement, murmuring to himself, “Sounds like the ruins of Gondor fit the bill… but the risks are too great.”

“Yes, the risks are too high,” Rosetta agreed. “Not to mention that we can only build the test site on the outskirts of the wasteland for now. The chaotic, unstable energy environment around the ruins itself poses a threat to the gate’s stability. Moreover, the spatial structure near the Great Wall is affected by powerful energy fields, with many deep fractures. If something really ‘escaped’ from the gate, these hard-to-monitor fractures could become countless leakage points…”

“Let’s rule that out,” Gawain said. “What other conditions does the gate need?”

“It should be an independent, sturdy facility that can be completely destroyed from the inside but is difficult to breach from outside. It needs ample energy supply, and enough space around to install arcane generators. We’ll also need to build roads for transporting supplies and personnel…” Rosetta continued listing the requirements their technical team had repeatedly debated. Then he emphasized one more point: “And above all, this must be done as quickly as possible.

“The war god has fallen, and the connection between its remnants and the divine realm has recently shown clear signs of weakening. Scholars believe this means the war god’s realm is gradually ‘drifting away’ from our world. Without mortal thought as an ‘anchor,’ that realm is like a ghost ship adrift at sea, liable to vanish from our sight at any moment. We must solidify the gate before the link to the real world is completely severed, to reestablish the anchor…”

Hearing Rosetta’s last words, Gawain furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “So the facility can’t be too far from us, or it will only increase construction costs and time. Ideally, it should already have some foundation, so we only need minor modifications and repairs…”

Is there such a place? Rosetta pondered deeply, then suddenly seemed to have an idea. He slowly raised his head and looked at Gawain with a searching gaze. “What do you think… of Covenant Keep? It’s right on our border buffer zone. Although trade lines to the north are now active, Covenant Keep’s wasteland remains sparsely inhabited. It has existing roads and enough space. The supply stations set up during the castle’s construction could also be useful.”

Gawain’s hologram slowly smiled. “You and I are thinking alike.”

“Looks like we’ve reached another consensus,” Rosetta smiled—a rare softness touching his usually stern face. Then, as if recalling something related to Covenant Keep, his expression grew wistful. He sighed softly, “Covenant Keep, huh…”

“Yes, Covenant Keep… so much has happened there. Many fates began to change from that place, didn’t they, Rosetta?”

…

The remote communication with Oldern ended. Gawain stepped back, leaving the optical capture area of the arcane network terminal. He turned and descended the platform, approaching Hetty, who had been waiting by the communication room door.

“Looks like our cooperation with Typhon is finalized,” Hetty stepped forward, smoothing the wrinkles on Gawain’s coat. Then her brow furrowed slightly. “I didn’t expect the final ‘gate’ location to be Covenant Keep… That ‘temporary fortress’ built just to sign the peace treaty between Ansu and Typhon has surprisingly stood until today.”

“It will stand in the history and politics books of future generations as well. I wonder how many passages will mention it,” Gawain smiled, lightening the slightly tense atmosphere with a joke. “Countless students probably dream of the day that castle finally falls…”

Sometimes the old ancestors’ way of thinking was truly unexpected. Hetty couldn’t help but laugh, then thoughtfully added, “They’d be disappointed. Even if Covenant Keep fell, it would just become a new essay topic—writing about when, why, and under what circumstances it collapsed…”

Even the usually serious Hetty was now keeping up with his jokes, which surprised Gawain pleasantly. Clearing his throat, he steered the conversation back on track. “Once we return, notify Kamail. Our cooperation with Typhon is about to begin. Although the arcane energy source he created can’t yet unravel the mystery of magic’s essence… maybe it can help us crack the secrets of the gods.”

…

Cold, dry polar winds swept across the rugged, crystal-strewn wasteland. Between jagged stone pillars, the wind carried low, mournful sounds like the cries of some great beast. The air was tinged with the sharp scent of toxic vapors rising from deep within the ruins. The biting cold made the young huntress, Lora, shiver involuntarily.

Despite her wind shield and insulated clothing, and having just taken the standard-issue frost resistance potion before setting out, the Arctic chill constantly tested her southern-born endurance. At times like this, she even regretted not buying higher-quality frost resistance potions—like those premium 52-degree aromatic ones from Cecil—at her own expense.

Her wandering thoughts abruptly snapped back as she refocused on the path ahead. In such a harsh, unfamiliar environment, distraction was the greatest enemy. She knew the howling wind and monotonous landscape had been messing with her concentration, but that was no excuse to let her guard down.

Fortunately, she wasn’t alone this time. Reliable companions surrounded her.

Lora glanced up, scanning her comrades. She saw several swordsmen and another huntress who had set out with her, two druids who were being carefully protected, and finally her gaze settled on the party’s center—the mage. The elderly Modril, likely over eighty, strode briskly among them, his face bright with joy.

Mages are fragile yet powerful arcane professionals who must always be shielded by sturdier teammates in the middle of the formation during travel or combat. This is a rule every adventurer knows and follows. Yet watching the spry old man at the center, Lora couldn’t help but question her own understanding of the profession.

Does this old man really need protection?

“We’re approaching the boundary of our patrol area,” the two-handed swordsman leading the group suddenly stopped, breaking Lora’s train of thought. He pulled out an enchanted map, confirming their position by the glowing lines and dots. “Beyond that low ridge ahead is the end of our patrol. The next area is covered by another squad. Then we can head back.”

Lola let out a slight breath of relief, though her nerves remained taut, refusing to fully relax. She kept a close watch on the spaces between the towering rock pillars around them, all the while recalling the mission she and her teammates were tasked with: acting as support forces for the Talrond dragon warriors on the surface, patrolling and verifying the routes the dragons had carved out, clearing out any wandering monsters that had somehow slipped past the dragons’ fiery breath, and constantly monitoring the temporary safe zone for any new elemental rifts to report immediately.

Their entire operation had one clear goal—to help the dragons establish a secure passage between New Agondor and the Crystal Hills.

Contrary to what Lola had initially expected, this wasn’t a one-off job but a long-term assignment. The dragons couldn’t clear a path between Agondor and the Crystal Hills in just a day or two, so the process of exploration, extermination, and securing the borders would likely stretch on for many days.

“To be honest, I think this route’s safe enough already,” muttered a one-handed swordsman, clearly growing weary after days of patrols and only a handful of minor skirmishes. “We’ve only run into a few wandering elementals these past few days—fewer than the monsters we’ve been clearing out around the camp.”

The temporary leader glanced back at the swordsman. “Well, this area’s already been swept through by the dragons once, so it’s naturally safer. If you’re itching for more action, push ahead—there are plenty of monsters waiting in the areas the dragons haven’t reached yet.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” the swordsman replied. “I’m not one of those sea hags who can get sucked into a mechanical ship’s engine and still crawl out of the cooling pool unscathed.”

Listening to his companions’ lively banter, Lola felt her mood lighten a bit. She even managed a faint smile—until a sudden, strange smell drifted into her nostrils, making her frown again.

It smelled like sulfur, but not sharply so. Like scorched rock, but stronger, more vivid. Lola sniffed hard, and an odd thought suddenly popped into her mind—

This scent smelled like pure flame.

Of course, pure flame had no scent at all, yet the strange association took root in her mind. Almost at the same moment, her nearby companions also caught on to the odd odor. Someone covered their nose and muttered, “What’s that smell… like something burning…”

(End of chapter)