Chapter 1197: The Construction of Treaty Keep
The first contingent of the Alliance forces dispatched to support Talrond would continue their year-long rotation duty on the northern continent, until the next batch of reinforcements arrived to relieve them. But before that handover could take place, the military personnel responsible for escorting and initial coordination had completed their mission and were returning today to Northport, the northern border harbor of the Cecil Empire. After many days away, stepping back onto imperial soil stirred a rare moment of reflection in Byron, a burly man of imposing stature.
Ever since the human kingdoms lost the protection of the Storm Church seven centuries ago and were sealed off on this continent by the Endless Sea, mortal ships had never truly challenged these boundless waters—until now. Crossing the frigid ice oceans, visiting lands far beyond the reach of human civilization, and returning safely—this feat was destined to be etched into history.
“Following His Majesty all these years, I seem to keep running into these historic moments,” Byron muttered from the edge of the upper deck, shaking his head. “I’m almost curious what it’d be like to see my name in school textbooks someday…”
“Don’t worry,” came the deputy officer’s cheerful voice beside him, clad in naval uniform. “History students will probably curse you every time they see your name—since they’ll have to memorize every detail of your few days spent braving the wastelands of Talrond, plus all the other historical events you’ve been involved in.”
Byron glanced at the man who had fought alongside him from the southern borders all the way here, raising an eyebrow. “At attention! About face!”
The deputy instinctively straightened and turned around, only to get a swift kick in the backside from Byron. “Stop wasting time with chatter and get on with the landing handover!”
The deputy twisted away just enough to let Byron’s toe graze the edge of his uniform, then called out, “Yes, sir!” before laughing and running down from the deck. Byron smirked indifferently, pulled back his leg, and looked up at the sky.
High above, the crimson-armored dragon was gradually descending. The whoosh of its massive wings cutting through the air reached the ears of the crew aboard the Winter’s Chill. After a series of decelerations and precise maneuvers, the dragon finally lowered itself toward the upper deck of the warship. When still several dozen meters away, it let out a low roar, its entire body enveloped in a shimmering, shifting aura.
With a thunderous “boom,” the red-haired Dragonmark sorceress materialized from the glow, landing gracefully just behind Byron on the deck. She knelt on one knee with effortless style before rising slowly. The residual heat from her magical aura radiated outward, distorting the air slightly and outlining Asralena’s tall, wild silhouette.
Byron frowned as he watched the scene unfold nearby. Once Asralena stood, he couldn’t help but mutter, “Next time, could you land a bit closer before jumping down? You always leap from dozens of meters up…”
“Are you underestimating the physical resilience of a Dragonborn?” Asralena shrugged nonchalantly as she stepped out of the heat haze. “That height wouldn’t hurt even a superhuman knight like you. I’ve been jumping from higher places since I was a kid.”
“No, I mean don’t damage my deck,” Byron said, worriedly eyeing the spot where she’d landed. “Do you know how much it costs to fix a dent? Not to mention I’ll have to write a report about it when I get back…”
Asralena: “…”
“What’s that look for?” Byron asked, suddenly feeling a bit pressured by her gaze. “I’m not saying you have to pay for it—I just don’t want to write a report explaining why there’s a footprint on the deck…”
“You’ve got your reasons for staying single all these years,” the Dragonmark sorceress rolled her eyes slightly and waved her hand as she headed toward the ladder at the deck’s edge. “It’s not just because you look rough and don’t shave.”
Byron blinked, then saw the red-haired Dragonborn already stepping past him toward the ladder. Realizing what was happening, he grumbled in protest as he hurried after her. “I can accept you calling me rugged—that’s a compliment, really—but criticizing my beard? You don’t know how much effort I put into grooming it… Hey, slow down! Do you even know the way?”
“I can see it clearly from the sky—at least the deck layout,” Asralena said, then suddenly stopped and turned to look at the middle-aged knight who nearly ran into her. “Instead of arguing about that, what are your plans? Are you going to rest here for a while, or head straight back home to the southern borders?”
Byron paused, thought for a moment, then answered, “The orders from higher-ups have already come down. The arrangements for Northport and the Winter’s Chill are set. The relief captain and second officer will take over here. I’m planning to return directly to the south.”
Asralena studied him. “How will you get back? By magitech train? Or the ‘Cloud’s Edge’ transport plane?”
“Uh… probably the train. It’s pretty fast,” Byron scratched his head. “I’m not really interested in flying machines. Honestly, trains are just more comfortable and spacious… Why do you ask?”
“Oh? You’re only ‘not interested’ in flying machines?” Asralena raised an eyebrow, her expression suddenly tinged with amusement. “Would you like to try a mode of transport that’s even more convenient than your trains or flying machines?”
Byron didn’t catch on at first, still wondering what could be more convenient than the Cloud’s Edge or magitech trains. But then he noticed the strange smile on the Dragonborn’s face and the dark red vertical pupils in her eyes. He shivered and quickly waved his hands. “No, no, I think I’ll stick with traditional transport…”
“Magitech trains aren’t exactly traditional,” Asralena said, slapping Byron’s shoulder with her strong Dragonborn strength. “Relax, ‘Commander’—first time’s awkward, second time’s a breeze…”
The late autumn wind was already biting cold, especially across the northern wilderness. The chill swept over the open plains, rustling the withered branches and dead grass, a stark reminder that the lush summer was long gone. The bleak autumn days—and soon, the harsh winter—were rapidly closing in on the world.
At the northern border between the Typhon Empire and the Cecil Empire, the traditional “buffer zone” was centered around a towering fortress perched on rocky high ground. Its walls, still pristine and unweathered as when first built years ago, stood firm against the elements. The cold plains wind whipped up dust and fallen leaves, striking the fortress’s pale gray exterior and causing the three flags above to snap sharply in the breeze.
The flags of Cecil, Typhon, and the Alliance symbolized the role this castle—named Treaty Keep—now played in the name of peace. Beneath them, a massive convoy of construction vehicles, supply wagons, technicians, logistics troops, and senior technical officials from both human empires had gathered.
Windsor Mapel stood atop the main gate’s battlements, her gaze sweeping over the open fields beyond. On the very ground where representatives of the two nations had once walked, sprawling temporary camps had sprung up. Typhon’s engineering mages and Cecil’s mechanized construction teams worked with fierce efficiency, racing to raise barracks and walls. Temporary hardened roads connected the various facilities, and farther out, two broad roads stretched east and west—one leading to Longwind Fortress, the other to the distant Winterwolf Keep.
The president of the Royal Mage Association withdrew her gaze just as footsteps echoed nearby on the battlements. Looking up, a faint smile appeared on her face.
An elderly mage in a black robe approached at a steady pace, his stooped but steady frame undeterred by the wind. A young black-haired sorceress followed closely behind, like a fledgling bird shadowing its mentor.
“Master,” Windsor greeted warmly, stepping forward as she always did, never letting her current status as president or renowned mage interfere with her respect for her teacher. “What brings you up to the battlements yourself?”
“I’m not some frail old man who needs to be coddled in a warm room,” the old mage Daniel replied calmly. “His Majesty sent me here to oversee the progress with you—not to have me sipping tea and reading papers all day.”
“Of course,” Windsor smiled. Though Daniel’s tone remained measured, their daily conversations had improved greatly since the cold estrangement of their past. She was quite pleased with this progress. “His Majesty places great importance on this joint project. Having you here in person is a great reassurance.”
Daniel waved off the compliment and looked out over the construction site. “How’s the progress so far?”
“All the planned engineering teams are on site, from both Typhon and Cecil. Ninety percent of the technical staff have arrived. Supplies are ample. Camps and roads to the rear are clear. Basic communications, living quarters, and storage facilities have been established,” Windsor reported cheerfully. “Next, Cecil will build eight large energy stations around Treaty Keep, using their most advanced stacked arcane networks to ensure the massive power demands of the Gate activation are met. These stations will connect to the main facility via both wireless arcane obelisks and physical energy rails, maximizing the security and stability of the power supply.
“As for us, the external facilities mainly provide remote monitoring. Our primary work is inside the castle. According to the plan, we’ll install the focusing devices and containment rings needed for the Gate within the main hall. Some existing walls will need to be dismantled to make room for the enormous cooling and waste energy discharge systems. To maintain the structural integrity of the main building, the engineering teams will simultaneously construct new support structures and walls.
“The mages will also perform large-scale enchantments throughout the facility. These enchantments fall into three categories: first, to reinforce the building’s strength—that goes without saying; second, to purify the elemental environment, minimizing interference from ambient natural magic on the ‘pure arcane energy’—a requirement proposed by Cecil’s technicians, which is very reasonable and we will fully cooperate; third, to set up ‘Mindguard Runes’ near the main hall—you’ve probably seen the documentation on these. They’re said to be blessings from the deep sea, gifts from the sea witches to the Alliance. His Majesty holds them in very high regard…”
Listening to Windsor’s detailed and earnest explanation, Daniel couldn’t help but let a faint smile cross his face. “Yes, I’ve definitely seen them before. They’re incredible—extremely effective at protecting against the spiritual contamination that comes from divine sources.”
“Exactly. According to one of our contingency plans, if contamination were to backflow during the portal’s opening, the runic system installed on-site, combined with the ‘anti-divine barrier’ brought by the Cecilian team, would immediately activate. It would suppress and seal off the contamination, at least buying us enough time to evacuate and destroy the portal,” Windsor nodded. “This entire enchantment project will proceed in tandem with the main device’s construction. We expect to set up over ten thousand enchantment nodes…”
“Sounds complicated,” Daniel said lightly.
“Yes, it’s extremely challenging—not just enchanting some swords or armor, or creating a magical chamber. This time, we’re enchanting an entire castle, turning it into a genuine ‘magical artifact’ on an unprecedented scale,” Windsor said solemnly, then finished with a confident smile. “But I’m very confident. I personally designed the whole system and ran multiple simulations. The Cecilians also used their ‘neural network calculations’ to verify it, confirming an effectiveness rate above ninety-eight percent. And based on previous scholarly research, as long as the enchantment system’s effectiveness exceeds ninety percent, it provides sufficient protection for the entire process…”
Windsor spoke proudly of her design, and for a moment, Daniel’s mind drifted back to memories from years ago—when this brilliant apprentice, eyes shining with excitement, would eagerly show him every breakthrough and idea she had in the magical field… She always came up with things that astonished everyone around her, and in just a few years, her creations had already surpassed his own ability to fully grasp.
Back then, it had been his greatest obstacle.
“Windsor, you really do have a gift for this,” Daniel said evenly.
Windsor finally paused, a bit embarrassed and frustrated. “Ah, sorry, Master, I just—”
“That’s a good thing,” Daniel chuckled. “We definitely need your talent right now.”
Windsor looked at Daniel with some surprise, but the old mage’s attention had already shifted elsewhere. He gazed toward the castle courtyard inside the walls, his eyes resting beneath a Cecilian banner as he casually remarked, “Is that the Cecilian chief engineer who just arrived?”
“Yes. The Cecilian chief engineer arrived a few days later than us, just today at Treaty Fortress,” Windsor Mapel nodded. “We should pay him a visit.”
“Indeed,” Daniel smiled. “We should.”
(End of chapter)