Chapter 1236: The Touch

Enya’s speculation made Highlord truly grasp the gravest consequence of the anomaly occurring within the Inverse Tide Tower.

It wasn’t just about the spread of corruption, nor merely the outward expansion of the Inverse Tide’s power. The real danger was that the Inverse Tide would become a genuine god—a complete, fully fledged deity, utterly freed from its seal and embryonic state. Moreover, this god would be beyond the control of any divine authority, unbound by the principle of “protecting mortals.” The usual methods—weakening divine power, severing thought connections, imprisoning divinity—would be utterly useless against such a “complete god”!

“A god out of control will roam the world, devoid of conscience or any sense of good and evil, and most likely filled with hatred…” Enya’s voice echoed low and grave from within the golden egg. Even Highlord felt a chill listening to her description.

But soon, her tone shifted slightly. “Of course, this is the worst-case scenario, a hypothesis without concrete evidence that the Inverse Tide could truly corrupt the Lady of Night. And judging from the shadow dust Modril Wilde brought back, the Lady’s power remains stable and pure—she has not been tainted in the slightest…”

“But the anomaly experienced by Modril Wilde, this ‘link,’ is genuine,” Highlord said solemnly. “Perhaps none of this has happened yet, or perhaps it’s only a matter of time.”

His mind raced, already trying to devise a way to neutralize the crisis before it could manifest. He didn’t have to think long—long ago, he and Enya had discussed an “ultimate plan.”

“…Looks like I’ll have to seriously consider the orbital crash plan I mentioned before,” Highlord sighed softly, a hint of helplessness in his voice. “Only the legacy of the Voyagers can truly and utterly destroy that tower…”

The so-called “orbital crash plan” involved redirecting some of the Voyagers’ satellites and small space stations in orbit to a designated location, then deliberately deorbiting them onto the planet’s surface under a protocol that disabled all safety measures. These falling space debris would strike with the force of meteorites, but more importantly, the residual energy and weaponry aboard these abandoned facilities would detonate upon impact. According to Enya’s earlier explanation, the shockwave from such an explosion was the only way to destroy other Voyager relics.

Before Talrond’s “Coming of Age” ceremony, Highlord had kept this as a trump card to deter the Dragon Gods. Afterward, when discussing the Inverse Tide Tower with the “Reborn” Dragon God, the orbital crash plan was brought up again as a backup option to destroy the tower. But… it was not a decision to be made lightly.

Those ancient, dilapidated space facilities couldn’t be precisely targeted, and the destruction caused by their crash wouldn’t be limited to just the “small” Inverse Tide Tower. Even in the best case, the impact would devastate Talrond’s western coastline and a significant portion of the inland areas. And in those places… there might still be survivor settlements struggling to endure the wasteland, waiting for aid.

One orbital crash meant sacrificing those survivors who had endured until now—those who had survived the Coming of Age trials against divine calamities—only to be reduced to dust beneath the exploding satellites, their names lost to history.

The incubation chamber fell silent. After a long pause, Highlord spoke again: “Since the Alliance’s aid arrived, Talrond has increased its efforts, dispatching expeditionary forces to search westward along the coast for survivor settlements. Their monitors near the Inverse Tide Tower have also conducted limited operations along the western coast. Over the past two months, numerous survivor enclaves have been discovered… You said you didn’t hold back when attacking those places, expecting few dragons to survive, but it turns out… survival is an instinct, even for dragons.”

“But if the Inverse Tide God truly breaks free from containment…” Enya murmured, “the entire dragonkind could become its ‘objects of vengeance.’ Whether it’s the survivors on the west coast, other dragons, or even all mortal races across the world… greater sacrifices will be inevitable.”

“I understand. That’s why I’m preparing everything needed to execute the orbital crash plan. But unless there’s no other choice, it will remain just a plan,” Highlord said gravely. “I will… personally verify the situation inside the Inverse Tide Tower.”

“…That’s dangerous. Even you are special, able under normal circumstances to resist the spiritual corruption of all gods in this world. But I can’t guarantee that your uniqueness will hold against the Inverse Tide,” Enya’s tone grew especially solemn, the runes on her eggshell nearly ceasing their usual shimmer. “Honestly… I don’t think it’s a wise choice. You mean far too much to this world. The Inverse Tide’s loss of control would be a catastrophe, but if the Alliance loses you now, that would be a disaster as well.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m going to my death,” Highlord chuckled, shaking his head gently. “Besides, you just recently said you admired my spirit—how I don’t dwell on past achievements and am willing to risk myself even when I could enjoy my success…”

“That was praise from a friend’s perspective. Now this is concern from a friend’s perspective. They’re not contradictory,” Enya replied calmly. “In my 1.87 million years, you’re the only friend I have.”

“…I’ll be cautious,” Highlord’s smile faded as he spoke seriously. “Though I know ‘cautious’ might not be enough here, when there’s no other choice, I can only be as careful as possible.”

A laugh came from the golden egg, tinged with warmth: “Then I wish you all the best—though my ‘blessings’ don’t hold much power anymore, when there’s no other choice, all I can do is wish you well.”

She paused suddenly, as if recalling something, then added, “Ah, maybe I can do something else to support your little ‘adventure’…”

Hearing the faint excitement in Enya’s voice, Highlord’s mind instantly flashed a warning sign. His expression shifted slightly. “What do you mean…”

“Want to try a new drink I recently concocted?” Enya’s tone lifted, and if her eggshell could smile, it surely would now. “I’ve adjusted the formula again, softened some of the main ingredients. Maybe it won’t be as intense as last time—this time, I’m truly confident…”

Before she could finish, Highlord sprang up from the sofa and headed for the door. “I just remembered I have a meeting this afternoon. We’ll talk next time, next time…”

He left so quickly that Enya didn’t even have time to respond. She only saw the empty doorway a few steps away. Two seconds later, a sigh of regret drifted from the golden egg: “Ah… I really was confident this time. Maybe last time’s intensity was just too much?”

As she spoke, something flickered in the corridor outside. Upon closer inspection, it was a snake tail, covered in fine scales and beautiful patterns. Enya immediately shook off her disappointment and called out loudly to the passing sea witch: “Miss Tyr!”

The snake tail swayed and halted its forward movement. Moments later, a head peeked through the incubation chamber’s door. Tyr looked curiously at the golden egg bathed in light. “Lady Enya, you called for me?”

“Yes, Miss Tyr,” Enya smiled. “I have something good here. Want to come in and try?”

“Something good? Try it?!” Tyr’s eyes lit up instantly, her whole body energized. She slithered inside, and somehow had already conjured a sparkling knife and fork from water elements. Holding them aloft, she eagerly approached the golden egg, her smile radiant. “You finally came to your senses? That’s great! I promise, just one bite won’t hurt. My teeth are strong, and you’ll heal right after…”

To be honest, she’d been longing for this fragrant “tea egg” in the room for quite some time. Ever since Enya moved in, Tyr had prepared cutlery and plates for her new neighbor, but their negotiations had never gone smoothly. The sea witch had suppressed her appetite until today—but who would have thought… even food could suddenly have a change of heart!

However, her excitement was short-lived. Enya’s invisible force pushed her back, preventing her from moving forward. From inside the golden egg came a voice tinged with surprise, helplessness, and a hint of nervousness: “Hold on, Miss Tyr, that’s not what I meant… wipe your mouth. I want you to try something else!”

Tyr coiled up, pushing hard against the invisible barrier, struggling to move forward. “Huh? Then why did you call me in…”

“I want you to try this,” Enya said, manipulating her magic to lift several containers from a nearby shelf. She expertly mixed the liquids, finally pouring a full glass of bubbling dark brown solution. “It’s a new drink I’ve formulated, but so far no one’s willing to try it…”

“Ah… so that’s it,” Tyr deflated, flopping onto the floor. But soon her gaze fell on the floating glass, and a flicker of interest returned. “But since you made it yourself, maybe it tastes good to us sea witches?”

“You can try it,” Enya said with a clear smile. “I’m confident.”

Tyr eyed the golden egg suspiciously for a moment, then hesitantly reached out to take the glass drifting toward her. She studied the bubbling liquid carefully, took a deep breath, and downed it in a few gulps.

“How’s the taste?” Enya asked anxiously.

“It’s a bit strange, like…” Tyr mumbled, but before she could finish, her eyes suddenly widened. With an exaggerated motion, she jumped straight up, then fell backward onto the floor, screaming, “Waaah—”

And then she died.

Moments later, the sea witch’s “body” on the floor suddenly dissolved into a splash of clear water, soaking the incubation chamber’s floor. From a distant room came Tyr’s shouting, followed by the maids’ gasps…

Enya stood motionless on the pedestal in the center of the room, thoughtfully watching the spilled dark liquid and the water on the floor. She murmured softly, “Looks like this one’s still a bit too intense…”

In a modestly furnished room, the curtains blocked out the outside light, and the magic crystal lamp remained unlit. Only a faint glow of sunlight filtered through the thick fabric, casting a dim, hazy ambiance over the space.

Two finely crafted steel daggers hung on the wall opposite the door. A small dressing table sat by the window, but aside from a few simple skincare items, there were hardly any of the usual bottles and jars favored by ladies of status.

On the tabletop rested an intricately designed metal box. As its lid opened with a delicate click, Amber’s figure appeared, seated in the chair.

Her gaze fixed on the small metal box. At its base lay a few grains of grayish-white sand, reflected in her pale golden eyes. For several long minutes, she simply stared at these “samples,” her brow furrowing and relaxing as if deep in thought—yet no clear conclusion seemed to form.

The sand looked exactly as it had before. Whether it was Gawain, Maggie, or even the former Dragon God, all agreed these grains were lifeless—just sand, at most carrying some divine essence.

Still, an inexplicable sense of familiarity and warmth kept rising in Amber’s heart. As she looked at the sand, she felt an almost tangible “pull” from them.

A pull only she could sense.

Suddenly, a headache crept over her. She had obtained these “samples” from Gawain, hoping to study them, but now realized she had no idea where to begin. How does one study something like this? Burn it? Soak it in acid? Smash it with a hammer? Tasting it was obviously out of the question…

The empire’s intelligence minister scratched her head in frustration. This was far beyond her expertise. Unlike the intelligence projects she usually handled—complex puzzles with hidden patterns—this was something else entirely. Those tangled webs of information, no matter how chaotic, always had their place, like scattered puzzle pieces. With enough patience and keen observation, she could piece together fragments from all directions into a coherent report for Gawain.

But this… this was different.

Patience and observation were useless here. The shadowy dust refused to respond to any external stimulus. The only tool she had left was intuition.

Intuition…

Driven by that instinct, she finally reached out and gently touched one grain of sand.

(End of chapter)