Chapter 1198: The March Forward

The “Gate” project underway at Covenant Keep marked the first large-scale joint operation since the establishment of the Theocratic Council. It was a monumental endeavor, one destined to shake the entire Alliance and carve a significant chapter in mortal history. Although only the two great human empires—Typhon and Cecil—were directly involved in the project, countless eyes across the Alliance were fixed on the progress at Covenant Keep.

Nations unable to participate directly had found other ways to stay connected: some sent their top scholars, even if only to conduct peripheral “observations” on-site; others contributed manpower and resources, hoping to gain early insight into the gate’s activation; still others provided vast collections of ancient theological texts and reference materials, all in exchange for the honor of having their names listed among the participating states…

These myriad contributions, like countless tiny streams, converged through the channels of the two empires, flowing into the towering fortress standing resolute against the biting wind.

“Covenant Keep…” On the way to the castle’s main hall, Windsor Mapel couldn’t help but look up at the banners fluttering high above the fortress, her voice tinged with reflection. “Built during the Ansu era, and a witness to Ansu’s fall… The peace treaty between Ansu and Typhon, the trade agreements between Typhon and Cecil, ceasefire accords, new peace treaties… One after another, these symbols of ‘unity and progress’ were signed here. And now, with forces from foreign lands gathered under one cause, Covenant Keep finally lives up to its name.”

“I didn’t know you had such a sentimental side, capable of such profound insight,” Daniel said with a faint smile, glancing at his former apprentice. “I thought you only knew how to bury your head in the lab, studying magic.”

“…Master, you flatter me. It’s hardly profound—just a passing thought,” Windsor laughed softly, shaking her head. “I was just recalling the events of the past few years involving Ansu and the Cecil Empire. It seems so much of it is tied to this fortress. Even His Majesty has said in private that Covenant Keep will surely be remembered in history books with bold strokes.”

“Having all the important historical events concentrated in one place has its perks,” Daniel remarked casually. “At least future students will have fewer place names to memorize. When they can’t recall the location of a major event, they can just write ‘Covenant Keep’ and have a decent chance of scoring points.”

Windsor’s eyes widened in surprise. She stared at the old mage, as if unable to believe what she’d just heard. Meanwhile, Mary, who had been quietly trailing behind with her head down, couldn’t hold back a chuckle—quickly covering her mouth afterward.

“What’s so funny? Pathetic,” Daniel shot a glance at the black-haired apprentice, then back at Windsor. “Why aren’t you laughing?”

“I…” Windsor was momentarily speechless, awkwardly twitching the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, Master, I didn’t expect you to joke around. I just wasn’t prepared for it.”

“You two are about equally hopeless,” Daniel said with a mock frown, then looked ahead. The main hall’s doors were just ahead, and the banner of the Cecil Empire fluttered proudly on one of the flagpoles. “Have you found out who the chief technical officer from Cecil is? Do you know anything about them?”

“Ah, of course. I’ve already inquired,” Windsor nodded eagerly, sharing the information she had obtained through internal channels early that morning. “It’s the Cecil Empire’s Chief Archmage, Master Kamail Slane. He’s said to be a powerful ancient spirit from the height of the Gondor Empire, having lived for over a thousand years. Some extraordinary and unfathomable pure energy reshaped his body, granting this mighty ancient mage immortality…”

When it came to such extraordinary matters, even a legendary mage like Windsor couldn’t help but slip into gossip mode. She rattled off many of the “extraordinary legends” and “epic exploits” surrounding Kamail Slane before suddenly realizing and clearing her throat awkwardly. “According to documents released within the Theocratic Council, Master Kamail is an ancient heretic who knows many secrets of the divine realm. His expertise lies in ancient runes, mathematical logic, and arcane morphogenesis. The pure arcane energy source we’re using in this project was personally designed by him.”

Daniel listened quietly, his expression unchanged throughout. Only after Windsor finished did he nod slightly and say calmly, “I’ve heard of him.”

Mary, trailing behind Daniel, had kept her head down since earlier, hiding her eyes and expression. She knew all too well the relationship between her master and Master Kamail—they were old acquaintances, close enough to regularly play cards together in the neural network. Their usual routine: if Daniel won, Kamail would give Mary a difficult problem; if Kamail won, Daniel would do the same…

Windsor couldn’t see Mary’s face or read Daniel’s thoughts, but sensing her master’s cool detachment, she couldn’t help but offer a reminder. “Master Kamail is a scholar worthy of respect. I’ve read some of his papers published in public journals. Not just me—many in the Royal Mage Association hold him in high regard. You might consider getting closer to him. After all, relations between Typhon and Cecil have warmed, and academic exchanges are strongly supported by His Majesty. Even the domestic parliamentarians can’t object to this.”

Daniel gave Windsor a sidelong glance. “Do I look like someone who cares about those walking corpses in parliament?”

Windsor was left speechless, only able to smile awkwardly. But she wasn’t surprised—her master was proud to a fault. Unless he truly respected someone, all the boasting in the world was meaningless to him. This was true even within Typhon’s academic circles, let alone when dealing with a foreign scholar.

Noticing Windsor’s expression, Daniel maintained his usual cold composure, though a faint smile flickered deep in his eyes. Then, stepping past his former apprentice, he pushed open the doors to the main hall.

Inside Covenant Keep’s main hall, the glow of magic crystal lamps illuminated the spacious, grand chamber.

The hall’s architecture blended the styles of Typhon and Cecil, built entirely from incredibly sturdy stone. The walls were coated with a special paint mixed with electrum powder, giving the interior a subtle metallic sheen. There were no supporting pillars inside; the ingenious structure held up the high circular dome entirely on its own. This design was especially advantageous now, as it allowed the massive portal device to be installed within the hall without dismantling more pillars or walls and without extensive reinforcement.

At this very moment, in the place where kings and emperors once signed treaties, where frontline commanders directed battles, and where wounded were urgently treated during the Godslayer Wars, a cutting-edge “battle” of technology had begun. A massive metal base with multiple concentric rings had been installed at the center of the hall, where the Oath Altar once stood. The original treaty stored there had long since become void with Ansu’s collapse and was now preserved in a museum.

Around the metal base, numerous auxiliary devices remained in their initial stages. Countless parts and materials were neatly stacked throughout the hall. Workers marked out remaining work zones and reference lines on the floor with paint. Technicians, engineering mages, and Typhon scholars in white robes or various mage garments bustled between areas, busy checking supplies, inspecting equipment, and directing construction.

A tall figure radiating arcane light hovered beside the central base. Tiny sparks of energy danced and flowed between the plates of his rune-etched armor as he studied the complex rune arrays embedded in the device, occasionally exchanging words with nearby technicians. This was Kamail Slane, Chief Strategist and Archmage of the Cecil Empire, the highest-ranking technical officer on the Cecil side of the “Gate” project, sent to oversee this critical engineering work.

A strange presence approached from the hall’s entrance. Kamail immediately ceased his conversation and turned in midair, spotting three figures entering and walking toward him.

One was a tall, dignified middle-aged woman; another, an elderly mage in a black robe, looking aged and somber; and the third, a young female mage also in black, with short black hair, trailing closely behind the old mage like a fledgling bird.

The arcane light in Kamail’s eyes flickered briefly as he descended from the air and floated toward the newcomers. Calmly, he met Daniel’s gaze, a faint smile playing on his “face,” unconcerned that the Typhon technicians nearby might detect any hint of expression.

After all, aside from a few close colleagues in Cecil, no one in the world could read any emotion from his 200-lumen “face”…

“Master Kamail,” Windsor approached with a poised, appropriate smile—one she maintained in any setting except before her master or His Majesty. “Good day. This is my master, Master Daniel. And this is Mary, a senior scholar from the Imperial Engineering Association and also another of my master’s apprentices.”

As she spoke, the legendary mage couldn’t help but study Kamail again, her gaze sweeping over the arcane flames and rune-etched armor plates with curiosity and amazement.

What an incredible form of life… Does he need to eat? Drink? Use the restroom? Recharge? Feel hot and cold normally? Sleep? If he sleeps, does he need darkness? And if so… how does he turn off his ‘light’?

Windsor lowered her head slightly, suppressing the string of somewhat intrusive questions forming in her mind. Kamail, meanwhile, fixed his gaze on Daniel. After a brief moment, he broke the silence with a smile in his voice: “A pleasure to meet you, Master Daniel. I’ve heard your name in some academic journals.”

“Likewise, Master Kamail,” Daniel replied with his usual cool demeanor. “I’ve heard of you too—from my apprentice.”

Mary, like Windsor, kept her head bowed, barely daring to breathe, clearly overwhelmed by meeting such a “figure” for the first time.

In truth, she was very nervous—after all, the last time they met in the neural network, Master Kamail had given her three difficult problems, none of which she had solved yet…

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Kamail floated forward half a step, extending an arm shimmering with arcane energy. “A handshake? It’s how we Cecilians show goodwill.”

Daniel glanced cautiously at the flowing currents of power along the arm and asked carefully, “Is it hot to the touch?”

“Don’t worry,” Kamail chuckled. “You won’t feel any noticeable heat.”

Only then did Daniel reach out. Flesh met swirling arcane light briefly before they pulled apart.

“All right, the necessary formalities and introductions are done. Now, let’s get down to business,” Kamail said, drifting back half a step. His gaze shifted to Windsor Mapel. “I was just examining the base structure of your teleportation gate and a few questions came up. I hope you can clarify them…”

A faint smile appeared on Windsor’s face. “Of course. Please, ask away.”

…

While the technicians in the Covenant Fortress were mobilizing to advance toward the Divine Realm, building a “bridgehead” for the campaign, another massive operation was quietly underway at the southern foothills of the Dark Mountains—the first step of a grand march was being set in motion.

At the southern exit of the Defiant Fortress, a crucial gateway nestled in the gentle slopes of the Dark Mountains’ southern side, the outer zone of the “South Gate Bastion” was bristling with arcane cannons and armored with alloy plating down to every brick. Inside the first wall, engineering vehicles gathered in formation. Resources, machinery, and personnel pulled from across the Empire assembled into multiple convoys. Arcane engines roared continuously as hoists and trolleys loaded more supply crates onto large trucks. Tanks and multipurpose combat vehicles assigned to escort duty ran through their final checks, ready to roll southward at a moment’s notice.

High Architect Gordon stood atop the outer wall, withdrawing his gaze from the convoy below to the forest beyond the ramparts.

In the distance, the Black Forest remained dense and wild. Massive, twisted plants filled his view—creatures nourished by the chaotic magic of the wasteland, their resilience unbroken through the entire winter. And during the just-ended summer, even more warped growths had sprouted along the forest’s edge, as if daring the Cecilian Empire’s border defenses at the South Gate Bastion.

The Empire’s garrison would not tolerate such provocations. In the final two weeks of summer, they had responded with heavy flamers and fortress cannons mounted on the walls, driving back the encroaching growth once again. Gordon looked toward the direction of the last burn, as if he could still see wisps of smoke curling upward.

“A railway cutting through the Black Forest…” the High Architect muttered to himself, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s going to be quite the challenge.”

(End of chapter)