Chapter 1201: Unexpected News
“News from Talrond? And it’s connected to the Wilde family?” When Betty spoke, Gawain’s first reaction was one of confusion—he couldn’t fathom what could be happening on the continent of Talrond, across the northern seas, that would involve the Empire’s Wilde family. But the next moment, a piece of information he had nearly forgotten suddenly resurfaced deep in his mind, causing his expression to shift. “Have her come straight to my study.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Betty bowed deeply and quickly left the room, her light footsteps echoing crisply down the corridor.
Once Betty was gone, Gawain looked up just in time to meet Amber’s gaze. Their eyes locked, and with a slight nod, they silently reached an unspoken understanding—they were thinking along the same lines. Gawain’s voice dropped low: “Do you still remember that book, Modir’s Travels…?”
Almost simultaneously, Amber replied, “Betty actually remembered the guest’s name this time when she came in with the message!”
Gawain: “…”
Amber: “…”
“So you nodded at me so seriously just to say that?!” After a brief pause, Gawain finally cracked a wry smile. “I thought you were on the same wavelength as me!”
“I thought you were on the same wavelength as me too!” Amber said, completely unembarrassed, hands on her hips with her usual confident air. “Who knew your serious face was actually about something serious…”
Waving her hand emphatically, the half-elf cut off the topic before Gawain could respond and steered the conversation back to where it should have been from the start. “Anyway, enough of that. Now that you mention it, I remember—Modir’s Travels. If there’s any connection between the Wilde family and Talrond, that book’s probably the only thing that comes to mind.”
Gawain blinked, then furrowed his brow. “Could it be that they found some new clue related to Modir’s Travels while sifting through the wasteland archives in Talrond? Some lingering aftermath of that great adventurer’s exploits in the dragon realm six hundred years ago? Or maybe something about the Inverse Tide Tower that wasn’t recorded in the book…?”
Before he could finish, rhythmic footsteps sounded in the corridor. Then Melita Pernia’s voice came from the doorway: “You can guess bolder than that.”
Gawain looked up at the blue dragon ambassador entering the study and instinctively asked, “Guess bolder? How much bolder?”
Dressed in a pale purple silk gown, Melita stepped in with practiced ease, found a chair, and sat down beside him, smiling faintly. “For example, we discovered the author of Modir’s Travels.”
Gawain and Amber: “…”
The study fell into silence. Nearly half a minute later, Amber couldn’t hold back a startled exclamation: “What?! What did you say?! You actually went digging up the ancestor’s grave…”
“Shut up,” Gawain interrupted sharply, having thought the sudden outburst might lead to some startling revelation. Instead, Amber had just blurted out something outrageous, and he frowned, cutting her off. Then he turned back to Melita, his expression growing serious. “Melita, I have to remind you—humans, with their relatively short lifespans, are very protective of their ancestors’ tombs and relics. Even if you’re doing this for the sake of reconciling the accounts for the rebuilding of the Mithril Treasury, you must get permission from the descendants first…”
Melita, who had maintained a serious demeanor throughout, finally broke into a smile. She hadn’t expected such a solemn topic to be derailed so thoroughly by a half-elf’s interruption, nor that Gawain Cecil—usually so serious—would leap to such wild conclusions on this matter. How to put it? These two really were the “caught red-handed duo” of grave-robbing, always thinking in ways others wouldn’t…
“You’re overthinking it,” the blue dragon said quickly, waving her hand. “We didn’t disturb any resting places this time. We were outside…”
“Even lonely graves in the wilderness don’t count!” Amber jumped in before Melita could finish. “Those are still the ancestors’—I haven’t done that in years…”
“Shut up!” Gawain, now fully alert after the initial chaos, realized something. He reached out and pulled Amber back a little, then looked at Melita. “Wait—are you saying you found… Modir Wilde himself? He’s still alive? And he’s in Talrond?!”
Amber’s eyes widened, and what shocked her even more was seeing the dragon ambassador nod gently.
“That’s exactly the situation,” Melita said after a brief pause. “I know it sounds incredible, but we have indeed found an adventurer who is highly suspected to be Modir Wilde himself. He’s currently active in Talrond, and our higher-ups have already made contact with him.”
She paused, then looked at Gawain with a hint of curiosity. “Though I’m curious—how did you immediately guess the right answer? A figure who supposedly died five or six hundred years ago suddenly reappearing and showing up in the dragon realm isn’t something most people would think of.”
“Because sitting right in front of you is an ‘ancient’ who was buried seven hundred years ago but is still alive and kicking,” Gawain joked, then quickly sobered. “Alright, that’s just a joke. The real reason is… the only thing that could make you dragons suddenly nervous and involve the Wilde family, besides Modir’s Travels, is something I can’t think of. And you just said you found the author himself—if you’d found his grave, you wouldn’t be acting like this. Plus, I have this vague feeling that the old adventurer from six hundred years ago was wrapped up in too many strange things. From my experience, in a world with supernatural forces, someone with so many secrets usually doesn’t just lie quietly in history books.”
“Someone with so many secrets wouldn’t just lie quietly in history books…” Melita’s expression grew thoughtful as she listened to Gawain’s words. She gave him a meaningful glance and nodded slightly. “Makes sense.”
“Your look just now was a bit strange, but as a ‘not-so-honest’ ancient, I can accept that,” Gawain said, waving his hand solemnly at Melita. “Anyway, tell me about this Modir Wilde… Honestly, no matter what we said earlier, I still find it hard to believe. How did you find him? And what’s he doing in Talrond? Has he told you his purpose?”
“You probably won’t believe this…” Melita began. “The way this suspected Modir Wilde arrived in Talrond was surprisingly ordinary: he came with a whole shipload of adventurers. Before departure, he even registered his information properly, right under the noses of your naval commander and the entire fleet you sent north. He arrived at New Agondor without incident.
“As for what he’s doing there? Simple—living like an ordinary adventurer in the camp. Helping build barracks, taking on quests, clearing monsters outside the camp… basically that.
“At first, we didn’t even realize such a figure was among the adventurers. You can imagine, there are many adventurers in the camp, and only a few dragons even know the name ‘Modir.’ It wasn’t until this adventurer killed a fire elemental lord that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, causing a big commotion, that he caught the attention of Speaker Andal and Leader Heragor…
“Shortly after, Leader Heragor made contact with the adventurer. But according to reports from our superiors… the meeting didn’t go smoothly. The adventurer’s condition seemed abnormal.”
“Abnormal?” Gawain’s brow furrowed. “In what way?”
“He appears to have amnesia—he doesn’t even remember his own surname. ‘Modir’ is the only name he recalls connected to himself,” Melita leaned forward slightly, speaking slowly. “Further contact revealed that not only can he not actively recall his surname, but if he receives strong stimuli related to himself, his consciousness experiences brief ‘interruptions’ and ‘resets’…”
“Interruptions and resets of consciousness?” Even Amber’s expression turned serious. “That’s unusual… I thought only the undead had that kind of thing happen…”
“Yes, undead do, but we can confirm this adventurer is a living, breathing person with a strong life force,” Melita nodded at Amber. “In any case, even the dragons can’t explain what’s happening to Modir Wilde. We can’t even be absolutely sure he’s the same adventurer from back then, so we only say ‘highly suspected.’”
Gawain listened carefully to every word Melita said. When she finished, he nodded thoughtfully. “An adventurer who might have survived for six hundred years… it makes sense that there’d be something unusual about him. So you’re not sure about his identity, and that’s why you came to me?”
“That’s one reason,” Melita nodded gently. “We want to confirm his identity. At the very least, the Wilde family should be informed. But there’s an even more important reason… we’re worried that Modir Wilde’s appearance might be connected to the Inverse Tide Tower.”
“The Inverse Tide Tower?” Gawain’s eyes widened, and he straightened up. “Is something wrong with the tower?”
“No, at least from external observation, everything seems normal,” Melita shook her head. “But you know, six hundred years ago Modir entered that tower. It was our… god who personally intervened to bring him safely back to the human world. Now that our god is gone…”
Before she could finish, Gawain interrupted, understanding immediately. “You suspect that the dragon god didn’t completely purify the corruption Modir suffered, but only set up some kind of buffering ‘seal.’ Now that the divine power has faded, you fear that the corrupted consciousness of the Inverse Tide Tower is subtly influencing Modir’s return to Talrond?”
Melita nodded.
“…Then this matter can only be settled by asking Enya directly,” Gawain exhaled slowly, thinking for a moment before making arrangements. “Amber, notify the Grand Regent Victoria and have her confirm the last records of Modir Wilde within the family. Melita, you and I will go to the Hatchery and consult Enya about what happened back then.”
He was already standing up as he spoke, but Amber beside him looked a bit flustered. “Hey, wait a minute—how am I supposed to tell Victoria about this? Do I just tell her to go check if there’s someone in the ancestral tomb?”
Gawain paused, glanced at Amber quietly, then nodded solemnly. “In terms of the outcome… yes.”
“Then won’t she just fly straight over from Winterhold and kill me?!” Amber jumped up instantly, her face full of a ‘Don’t blame me, you old troublemaker’ expression. “Especially since you want me to be the one to say it…”
Clearly, this half-elf—who had once changed the course of history by tomb raiding—was well aware of her own reputation and expertise.
“That’s because you said it so bluntly,” Gawain said, already resigned to her inability to take a roundabout approach, his face showing a hint of helplessness. “Think carefully about your wording. Figure out how to explain things quickly without immediately telling her to go knock on the ancestors’ coffins.”
He waved his hand as if to say, ‘You handle this,’ then, with Melita in tow, quickly left the study and headed toward the incubation chamber.
Behind him, Amber stood frozen for a long moment, staring after Gawain’s retreating figure before muttering softly, “Would adding a ‘please’ at the beginning make it sound more polite…?”
In the corridor leading to the incubation chamber, Gawain and Melita walked briskly. When they neared the chamber, Melita couldn’t help but ask, “Lately… has Lady Enya still been helping take care of the dragon eggs I brought?”
“Of course,” Gawain nodded. “She’s quite invested in it.”
Though he said this, the second half of his thought stayed unspoken: The way she takes care of them is a bit hard to understand… Polishing the eggs every day and reading the news aloud—is that really necessary for incubation?
Melita nodded slightly, her expression complicated. “I never expected that a former deity—even if only a remnant of divinity gathered as a human form—would help care for my dragon eggs. Honestly, every time I go to the incubation chamber, I’m nervous to death.”
Gawain glanced at the blue dragoness and shook his head gently. “You should relax. Enya’s personality is actually very approachable. Her coldness in the past was just because of the constraints of her divine duties.”
Melita gave a soft “hm,” about to say more when suddenly, hurried footsteps came from ahead, interrupting their conversation.
She looked toward the sound and saw Betty, dressed in her maid uniform, running quickly from the direction of the incubation chamber, her face full of nervous excitement.
“Betty!” Gawain called out, raising his hand to wave. “What’s the rush?”
Betty quickened her pace even more, and when she reached Gawain and Melita, she came to a sudden stop—almost stumbling forward from braking too hard. After steadying herself with a couple of shakes, she took a few deep breaths, her face glowing with excitement.
“It’s about to hatch! The egg Lady Enya’s been tending is about to hatch!!”
(End of chapter)