Chapter 1192: Extremely Harsh Living Conditions

The autumn wind grew chillier with each passing day. Though it hadn’t yet reached the point of true cold, opening the window in the morning still brought a brisk gust that made one instinctively pull their neck in. On the other hand, this cool breeze was a welcome relief—it quickly cleared a foggy mind and calmed restless emotions.

Gawain stood by the study’s floor-to-ceiling window, watching the fallen leaves swirl in the courtyard below. Ripples danced across the surface of the pool, stirred by the wind. From the nearby bushes, a long snake’s tail lazily dipped its tip into the water. This peaceful, everyday scene, combined with the cool air drifting inside, gradually settled his thoughts. He turned back to Veronica, who was still standing by the desk.

“If the Filna sisters never truly returned back then,” he began, “and what came back to our world was some unknown entity from the divine realm… what do you think their purpose might have been?”

Veronica shook her head calmly. “I don’t know. That’s the strangest part to me. If the divine corruption had spread to mortals, they would have gone mad long ago—there’s no way they could maintain coherent thought for a thousand years. If what returned was the true form of a god, their divine aura would be impossible to conceal. And if a god did find a way to mask their divinity and descend here, they would be bound by the ‘rules of the gods.’ They’d either be completely insane or protective of all life. Neither fits the Filna sisters’ behavior.”

“So…” Gawain mused, stroking his chin absentmindedly, “we can pretty much rule out that the Filna sisters were incarnations or true forms of gods, since their mental state was neither mad nor benevolent enough. But… if not gods, then what else could exist in the divine realm?”

Veronica furrowed her brow, hesitating before answering uncertainly. “I once briefly visited the domain of the God of the Holy Light through the Platinum Scepter as a bridge. It was a magnificent city floating in an unknown space, with walls like forged light and countless orderly, tall, and majestic palaces and towers. At the city’s center was a vast plaza, over which a torrent of holy light flowed, converging on a giant crystal that embodied the God of the Holy Light.

“Overall, the divine realm of the Holy Light god matched the concept of holiness: brightness, warmth, order, and protection. Inside, I saw only symbols and manifestations of the Holy Light… but that was limited to what I could perceive. I visited as a spiritual projection and underwent a personality reset immediately afterward due to severe corruption, so my memories and senses are incomplete—only a rough reference.”

Gawain listened intently to Veronica’s description. He already knew some of this from reports shortly after the establishment of the Divine Council. Her account aligned closely with the orthodox, canonical texts of the Holy Light Church, which described the divine realm as a reflection of mortal imagination and definition of a god’s dwelling. So it made sense that her experience matched the official portrayal.

“Sounds like a god’s realm is very ‘pure,’ containing only things related to that god…” Gawain said thoughtfully after Veronica finished. “But what about outside the divine realm? According to Amon and Enya, in those places where mortal thought can’t define anything, in the depths of the deep sea ripples… what’s out there?”

“That I don’t know,” Veronica replied, shaking her head. “My spiritual projection was limited to the interior of the Holy Light domain. Outside, I only remember a thick, chaotic mist—nothing visible. But I guess… the true gods must know something.”

“The true gods, huh…” Gawain murmured. “Looks like our ‘senior advisors’ have some real work to do again…”

…

In a warm, bright incubation chamber, a massive pale-gold dragon egg stood quietly on a pedestal in the center. A faint, pleasant fragrance surrounded the giant egg, mingling with a gentle airflow from nearby vents.

Not far away, a smaller dragon egg, speckled and slightly smaller than the golden one, rested on another metal stand. A soft white cloth moved rhythmically over its surface, producing cheerful “squeak-swish” sounds. Meanwhile, from within the large golden egg came a soft, low chant. The song had no clear lyrics; each syllable seemed layered with multiple shifting rhythms. It was an indescribable sound from a higher being, but now free from any corrupting influence—simply a joyful melody reflecting the singer’s mood.

When Gawain pushed open the incubation chamber door and stepped inside, this peaceful scene greeted him: the big egg caring for the smaller one, mostly by curling around it, all while singing.

An ancient god’s lullaby.jpg.

“Ah, Gawain—my friend, it’s been days,” Enya’s voice suddenly rang out, pulling him from his brief daze. The former dragon goddess, now gently wiping the smaller egg’s shell, greeted him cheerfully as runes silently danced across the shell. “Why are you just standing there? Come in and have a seat.”

Gawain blinked, finally fully alert, though his expression was a bit odd. “For a moment there, I was reflecting on whether the things around me are getting… stranger and stranger.”

“Stranger? That’s an interesting way to put it—you always come up with these incredible phrases. Or is that some kind of secret code from your homeland?” Enya teased with a smile. “I get the gist of your words, but I don’t think anything around you is ‘strange’—everything’s actually gotten better, hasn’t it?”

Gawain walked over to the sofa near Enya, chatting casually as he went. “Well, yeah, everyone’s doing better than before. But wait—how do you know what my ‘original words’ mean?”

Enya answered offhandedly, “I saw a book a few days ago that recorded—”

Before she could finish, Gawain suddenly coughed and waved his hand. “Stop! I get it already!”

He muttered to himself: Maybe I should seriously rein in Amber’s “recording habits.” How did Divine Banter even spread to Enya? Is this some kind of mortal-to-god reverse mental contamination…

Unaware of his thoughts, Enya finished wiping the smaller egg and turned her attention fully to her guest. “So, what brings you here? You don’t come to me unless there’s trouble. And judging by your expression, you’ve hit a snag, haven’t you?”

“You can’t hide anything from me,” Gawain smiled awkwardly, then composed himself and got straight to the point. “I want to ask about the ‘divine realms.’”

“The divine realms… you always manage to ask the toughest questions,” Enya said with a sigh. “No wonder you came to me first. That’s a wise choice—these questions are risky. Amon and Mimirna probably wouldn’t dare answer you. Alright, ask away. I might not have all the answers, but I’m freer to speak than they are.”

Gawain nodded and didn’t beat around the bush. “I want to know what lies outside the divine realms—strictly speaking, the ‘boundaries’ around them, the spaces between the realms, those places mortals can’t define, the gaps between the deep sea and the divine realms… is there anything there?”

After a long pause, Enya finally spoke. “I always thought I’d adapted to your ‘challenges,’ but you keep surprising me with new ‘tricks.’ How do you come up with such tricky questions?”

“Simply put, we recently found clues suggesting something crossed the boundary between the divine realms and the mortal world, using two mortal bodies to descend here. But that thing doesn’t seem to be a god, nor a ‘derivative’ born from divine influence. I’m curious—besides the gods themselves, what else in the divine realms can come here?”

At Gawain’s words, the runes on Enya’s egg shell suddenly stilled. Though the smooth shell showed no expression, Gawain felt the former goddess’s solemnity and gravity in that moment. After a pause, her voice came again.

“The divine realms… first, I must clarify: I can only tell you about their state from 1.87 million years ago. After that point, the dragon gods separated from the divine realms and were fixed into the mortal world through a process called ‘seam descent.’ I don’t know what the divine realms looked like after that.”

Gawain nodded immediately. “I understand.”

“Hmm… in my memory, beyond the boundaries of the divine realms, it’s not empty,” Enya continued. “In those places mortals can’t define, there are ruins and remnants: ruins of ancient divine realms, remains of fallen gods.”

“Ruins of divine realms and remains of gods…” Gawain’s pupils contracted sharply. After a moment, he said slowly, “I did hear Amon briefly mention this—he said ruins surround the divine realms but didn’t elaborate. I also heard that the ancient Gondor Empire’s rebels caught a fleeting glimpse of the ‘destruction of the divine realms.’ But the records are too old and fragmented, even Veronica can’t make sense of it…”

“You’ve already learned more than many civilizations have in the past 1.87 million years,” Enya said gently. “Those ruins and remains aren’t hard to understand. I’m sure you have your own theories—they represent the cycles of civilizations this planet has birthed over eons, and the gods those civilizations created.

“Civilizations rise and fall; mortal thoughts emerge and vanish in waves. Though each civilization’s mindset differs greatly, they always cast ‘projections’ into the deep sea, forming corresponding gods. Over vast stretches of time, these projections layer and overlap, leaving almost no ‘blank space.’ As civilizations perish, their gods crumble, and the divine realms collapse and disintegrate—but this is a slow, drawn-out process.”

“I’m sure you’ve already noticed the gradual decline and fragmentation of the War God’s divine realm. You might think that this fading and breaking apart will ultimately lead to the complete disappearance of the War God’s domain—and that the process happens quickly. But in reality, it’s not that simple. This rapid disintegration only lasts up to a certain point, until those fragments fully detach from the mortal world. After that, the shattered pieces of the divine realm continue to drift and ripple in the deep sea, transitioning from a fast decline into an extremely slow, drawn-out fading phase. This entire process can stretch on for hundreds of thousands, even millions of years…

“In such circumstances, after season upon season of civilizations perish, the remnants of their gods and divine realms accumulate—much like stubborn spirits refusing to dissipate after death. These fragments form vast, layered ruins beneath the deep sea. These ruins hold no meaning, no clear echoes of thought; even the lingering obsessions soon become vague and hollow. They simply float there in the depths. And when new civilizations arise, creating new gods and new divine realms, these realms are actually born amid countless ruins and debris.

“Pure and clear streams of thought give rise to immaculate gods and divine realms. So at least within the divine realm itself, everything appears ‘pure.’ But when the gods inside the realm look outward—the ‘landscape’ around them is far from pleasant.”

Enya paused her explanation for a moment. Gawain pictured the unreachable depths of that “deep sea,” imagining what the surroundings of a divine realm might truly look like. For the first time, he formed a clearer impression of that mysterious domain—but the image only made his expression grow darker. “I imagined it… and honestly, it sounds… pretty unlivable.”

“No, you can’t truly imagine it,” Enya said in a low voice. “Because the reality is even worse than what I’ve described. Outside the divine realm lie ancient ruins orbiting endlessly, along with the restless remnants of gods who refuse to rest. Around the radiant domes, the end of fate is clearly visible. The gods dwell at the pure, sacred center of their realms, listening to the endless praises and prayers of their followers. But all it takes is a glance beyond their thrones… and they see their own impending fate, sometimes looming very soon. This isn’t just a matter of ‘livable’ or ‘unlivable.’”

Gawain had tried to imagine what it would be like to have ruins drifting around a divine realm, but only after hearing Enya’s detailed description did the terrifying reality truly sink in. The truth stunned him, and he muttered under his breath, “…Those devout worshippers, who would have guessed that behind their shining, glorious divine realms lies such a grim truth… Neither Amon nor Mylmina ever told me about this…”

“That knowledge is far too dangerous,” Enya sighed softly. “They aren’t as ‘free’ as I am. But once your plan to ‘open the gate’ succeeds—when mortals use their own knowledge and power to open the door to the divine realm—the situation will change. Your civilization will be further unshackled from its chains, and Amon and Mylmina… they’ll finally be able to breathe easier.”

(The exclusive card event for Sword of Dawn has officially begun! You can find the event entrance in the book club circle. Collect cards to draw experience points or physical merchandise—this is theoretically the first batch of official licensed merchandise for Sword of Dawn. If you’re interested and have the time, come join the fun~~~

Also—Happy New Year to everyone~~~)

(End of chapter)