Chapter 1243: The Vortex

Enya’s words made Highlord sit up, furrowing his brow as he fell into a brief, deep contemplation.

Of course, he had considered this possibility before—the legacy of the Voyagers wasn’t limited to the relics scattered in space. There were the towering structures on the planet’s surface, the orbital elevators, and the ancient mechanical legions that the sea witches had once mentioned, occupying the southeastern continent. If the legendary Modril Vyrd had truly encountered these things and sensed a looming threat, it would make sense that he called them “Sentinels.”

But if that were the case… then these Sentinels lay far beyond the reach of human civilization.

The three ancient deities began to murmur among themselves, exchanging fragments of memories lost to the depths of time—memories only they could recall. Enya spoke of her knowledge of the Voyagers, of the massive fleet that once descended upon this planet and the many traces they left during their brief stopover. Amon then shared his fleeting impressions of the ancient facilities glimpsed in space, along with the clues he had observed.

Myrmidon’s understanding wasn’t as profound as the other two, but as the mistress of the magical realm, she commanded a vast network of scholars and adepts. Through her countless minor followers, she held what was perhaps the most comprehensive knowledge of ancient legends, obscure studies, and hidden histories in this world. Often, the scattered myths known to mortals were reflections of truths from the distant past.

Finally, Highlord spoke of his own understanding of the Voyager legacy. Around this small table, his identity and his connection to the Voyagers’ heritage were no secret. As an “Outsider” who had once threatened Enya with orbital bombardment, he sometimes knew more about these ancient legacies than the gods themselves.

Yet, even after piecing together all these ancient fragments, the trail regarding the “Sentinels” remained utterly blank. The warnings in Vyrd’s “book” seemed like shadows cast from nowhere—no deity could say where that darkness truly came from.

“Looks like guessing wildly here is just a waste of time,” Enya finally said, ending the exhausting discussion. She shook her head slightly, her gaze settling on Highlord. “Perhaps you’ll find some clues once you meet Modril in person. Until then, let’s set the ‘Sentinels’ aside.”

“Why don’t we talk about that mysterious ‘Higher Being’ behind Amber?” Myrmidon looked up at the figures around the table, curiosity flickering across her face. “What do you all think about that?”

“I don’t know who that ‘Higher Being’ is,” Enya said thoughtfully, “but I do know… there are many things in this world beyond our understanding. I’ve seen the Voyager fleets jump from the depths of the star seas to planetary orbits. I’ve witnessed terrifying energy torrents pierce the barriers of divine realms. Among the vast Voyager expeditionary fleets were many races you couldn’t even imagine—some entire civilizations living aboard colossal colony ships, setting sail from distant homes to one habitable world after another, either planting seeds or guiding new civilizations to set sail themselves…”

Enya’s words made Amon and Myrmidon widen their eyes. Born in the “post-Voyager era,” they could hardly picture the grandeur of those ancient times. Enya suddenly sighed softly.

“The dragons missed their chance to look to the stars, but whether by fortune or misfortune, before the gates to the cosmos closed, we caught a glimpse of the star seas. I can’t leave this planet, but in that fleeting moment, I understood something…”

“What did you understand?” Highlord raised an eyebrow, instinctively asking.

“Compared to the vast galaxy, no matter how big an event on a single planet may seem, it’s just a tiny spark. But even the vast galaxy is only a segment of the Voyagers’ eternal journey. We so-called ‘gods’ don’t even wield the power to rule a single planet—let alone comprehend the secrets deep within the stars.”

“…You suspect that the ‘Higher Being’ behind Amber doesn’t belong to our ‘world’?” Highlord’s brow tightened, his tone turning grave. He knew very few on this planet could see beyond the stars, and Enya—who could both gaze into the star seas and possessed vast knowledge, having witnessed the Voyagers firsthand—was unique. Her judgments might not always be perfect, but they could never be ignored.

“Most things that happen on this planet are ‘known’ to me, especially within the divine realm,” Enya smiled faintly. “Even if they’re not gods but demi-gods, quasi-gods, or false gods, I know them all. I recognize every ripple in the deep sea. So when something appears that I don’t recognize… I can only conclude it doesn’t belong to our ‘known frontier.’”

The gods and mortals around the table fell silent. After a moment, Amon suddenly looked up at the lush golden oak tree, his gaze seeming to pierce through the virtual branches and neural network barriers, reaching out to the real sky beyond. After a pause, he withdrew his eyes and sighed softly, a complex expression on his face.

“I really wish I could ‘go back up’ and see it again…”

“Go back up?” Myrmidon immediately shot him a sharp look. “Get chased and blasted by sentinel drones and anti-divine missiles all over again?”

“They don’t see me as an enemy anymore,” Amon glanced at her. “I just regret not appreciating how magnificent that star sea was before I got shot down back then…”

“Too bad you don’t have the power to break through the atmosphere anymore,” Myrmidon shook her head. “Without the support of the collective consciousness, if you still had half your old strength, that’d be impressive.”

Amon looked a bit deflated, like an old man beaten down by reality, shaking his head and muttering softly, “I’m done for, but maybe mortals will make it up there someday. Didn’t the dragons succeed recently?”

No one paid much attention to his rambling. After a brief silence, Highlord suddenly asked, “What do you think about the shadow dust Amber brought back? She said her faith isn’t directed at the Lady of Night, yet she brought something back from that goddess’s realm. All signs make me suspect… there’s still some connection between her and that distant deity, but it’s not the usual bond between worshiper and god.”

“Of course it’s not the usual bond. Have you ever heard of a worshiper wandering around their god’s realm, wrecking the place, and bringing stuff back? That’s not something a worshiper does,” Amon snapped out of his gloom and said with a strange expression. “When I heard what Amber did, I was shocked. If it weren’t for basic reason and logic, I’d almost suspect she’s using some masterful thieving skills.”

Highlord was speechless at that assessment, inwardly thinking: the universe’s greatest scoundrel finally got the natural god’s approval for his petty theft skills…

“Wandering around an ancient divine realm and coming back with part of an ancient deity’s power? Since you gained complete freedom, your imagination sure has grown,” Myrmidon said casually, then turned her gaze to Enya. “We want to hear your thoughts. After all, the Lady of Night is a very ancient deity, active in a time when…”

“I’m not close to her,” Enya interrupted, shaking her head. “But there’s one thing I’ve never understood all these years… how she survived back then.”

“Wasn’t it said she escaped the Voyager hunting fleet? Then hid somewhere you couldn’t find…” Highlord asked instinctively.

“What I can’t understand is how she escaped that hunt,” Enya looked into Highlord’s eyes, her pale golden pupils filled with ancient memories. “I’ve said before, aside from the Talrond pantheon, only two ancient gods survived the Voyagers’ onslaught: Shadow and Storm. But you’ve seen the Stormlord’s state—he’s barely alive. It’s less survival and more a bundle of flesh with lingering nerve reflexes. When the sea witches arrived, the true power of the storm almost immediately left that half-dead flesh. But the Lady of Night… from the intel you brought, she seems unscathed, even retaining considerable power.”

“So she ran really fast?” Myrmidon said casually. “Or hid really well…”

“If you’d actually seen the Voyager fleets, you wouldn’t say that,” Enya shook her head. “For a fleet capable of crossing the vast star seas and pinpointing tiny planets across light years, no matter how clever your hiding is on this small world, it’s meaningless. Even if you banish your divine realm to the ocean’s deepest depths, the Voyagers have weapons that can pierce all layers, chasing you from the material world to the edge of the known universe.

“The gods who survived here didn’t do so by hiding or running. The dragon gods survived because the Talrond dragons chose self-isolation and embraced divinity, and the Voyagers, due to their own ‘principles,’ didn’t intervene. The Stormlord… in my eyes, he’s not really ‘alive.’ But the Lady of Night… she was chased by an entire fleet, yet now appears completely unharmed.”

Highlord thought for a moment, uncertain. “After all these years, she healed?”

Enya considered this, then slowly said, “It’s not impossible. Even Amon managed to break free and heal his flesh. Once freed from divine constraints, wounds left by the Voyagers can heal. But remember, Amon was only chased by some automated weapons—that’s nothing compared to the Voyager fleet from 1.87 million years ago. Surviving that hunt is suspicious in itself.”

Amon and Myrmidon exchanged glances, then Amon hesitantly asked, “Are you saying… the Voyagers caught up to the Lady of Night but didn’t strike?”

“I don’t know. Back then, the situation on this planet had already spiraled into chaos. Apart from the sudden arrival of the Voyagers and the dragons steadfastly guarding Tal’Rond, only a handful of struggling mortal settlements across the planet managed to hold onto their sanity. The gods’ actions had spun completely out of control, and under the onslaught of the interstellar fleet, there was no order left. I have no idea what exactly happened on that chaotic battlefield, nor do I know what the gods’ final moments looked like. All I remember is what the world looked like after the Voyager fleet departed with the survivors from the other continents… and Lady Night had long since vanished by then.”

The old fog hadn’t yet lifted when new doubts surfaced in his mind. Gawain wasn’t sure how much truth was hidden behind these ancient secrets. His focus shifted back to the question he had just asked: “No one can probably investigate the Voyagers’ affairs anymore. What I’m more concerned about now is what’s really going on between Amber and Lady Night. The sand she brought back, though much degraded, is undoubtedly some kind of ‘variant’ of the Shadow Dust…”

“Have her collect more ‘samples,’” Enya said promptly. “Some for the lab, some for me to examine. I can’t answer your questions right now. We’ll only have answers after further research.”

“Alright, I’ll have her prepare more,” Gawain nodded immediately. “We’ve already tested it. Once summoned, that sand remains stable in the real world. As long as she doesn’t actively recall it, it won’t dissipate.”

A breeze swept in from the street outside the plaza, stirring the lush branches of the golden oak. Leaves drifted down, some landing on the table before quietly vanishing like a dream under the neural network’s cleansing mechanism.

Gawain stood amid the falling leaves. He glanced at the clock that appeared in his field of vision and gave a slight nod to the three former gods before him. “Time’s about up. I need to return to the real world and arrange the next leg of the Tal’Rond journey—thank you all for your help today.”

“We didn’t really help much this time,” Amon said with a smile, shaking his head. “We just analyzed a bunch of useless nonsense and ended up giving you more questions instead.”

“Sometimes new questions are a kind of gain in themselves,” Gawain replied with a smile. “They mean that someday in the future, new clues will emerge to unlock the truth.” A faint golden light began to spread behind him.

But just as he was about to log out of the neural network, Enya suddenly spoke up: “Do you remember what I said the first time I met Amber?”

“The first time you met Amber?” Gawain paused. “You mean back in Tal’Rond…”

“She claimed to be the chosen of the Shadow Goddess, but even then, I didn’t sense the aura of a ‘chosen one’ from her. Yet, despite that, I still felt she was… very special.”

“I remember now,” a nearly forgotten memory surfaced in Gawain’s mind, and he immediately stopped the logout process. “You still haven’t explained what exactly makes her special.”

“Her soul… is as light and intangible as a phantom, yet it remains incredibly stable. I don’t know if that’s because of her ‘artificial human’ origin, but it’s hard to find another being like her in this world,” Enya said slowly, her words making Gawain’s expression grow more serious. “Now she’s also entangled with an unknown ‘higher existence’ and has established a connection with Lady Night’s divine realm… My friend, her uniqueness has become so complex it defies explanation. In fact, ‘being special’ is itself her special trait.

“So take good care of her. After all, she’s already wrapped up in so many mysteries. If those mysteries truly are a vortex, then you might be the only one who can pull her out.”

(End of chapter)