Chapter 1246: The Captured Bug

No matter what, the little dragon’s amusing antics had at least brought some unexpected joy to this long journey across the vast ocean. But the tiny creature’s fearless, reckless behavior kept Gawain on edge. Ever since Melita took off, the hatchling hadn’t had a moment’s rest—either running back and forth on its mother’s back or scrambling up to high spots to stick its head out beyond the barrier, opening its mouth wide against the howling wind and letting out wild, incoherent cries. At one point, it even tried to climb all the way to the tip of Melita’s tail, but Gawain’s quick reflexes stopped it just in time.

Now, both Gawain and Amber seriously doubted Melita’s claim before takeoff—that “the hatchling would obediently stay put on its mother’s back during the trip.” That sounded like something pulled straight from some clumsy scholar’s handbook, because the reality was wildly different!

“How could that be just theoretical knowledge?” Melita immediately shot back, her tone serious. “I specifically consulted Lady Enya about this. She knows everything about hatchlings, of course.”

Gawain hadn’t thought much of it at first, but hearing that made him suspicious. After a moment’s thought, he recalled that the retired dragon goddess was something of a theorist. According to reliable intelligence from a former Nature deity who wished to remain anonymous and a secretive network administrator, Enya had spent her time during the egg incubation phase gathering all sorts of knowledge about hatching dragon young—she had even almost asked Pittman for help…

Gawain glanced at the lively hatchling frolicking nearby, his expression subtly shifting. He thought to himself that the little one’s healthy growth was largely thanks to the dragons’ formidable innate traits. It really seemed necessary for Melita and Noretta to take their two little ones back to Talrond for a visit—at least the two novice mothers could consult with the ancient dragons there and learn some proper parenting skills.

“Hey, why are you so quiet?” Melita’s voice suddenly came from ahead, breaking Gawain’s train of thought. “Worried about Noretta? You don’t have to be. Whether she admits it or not, her flying skills are way better than mine.”

“Uh, cough, cough, I’m not worried about that,” Gawain coughed awkwardly and carefully interjected, “I just think you shouldn’t rely entirely on Enya’s advice when raising the hatchlings. Her experience… well, her perspective back then was quite different from that of mortals.”

“You have a point,” Melita said casually, then shifted the topic. “By the way, once we reach Talrond, do you want to head straight to the west coast? Or rest a day or two in New Agondor first? Whatever you prefer—we can arrange it anytime. Though the accommodations won’t be as nice as last time you came.”

“I’ll stop in Agondor first. I want to meet that great adventurer in person,” Gawain said offhandedly. “Also to give Byron some time—he and his ‘Winter’s Edge’ aren’t as fast as you.”

“Alright,” Melita replied casually, then muttered with a hint of nostalgia, “Sigh… Without real-time communication with Talrond, many things have become troublesome. Now we have to rely on the most primitive methods to send messages across the sea. Even with the fastest white dragons as messengers, it still takes a full day for news to travel from Agondor to North Harbor… Meanwhile, Lorren, which used to seem backward, now has increasingly convenient real-time communication. News from North Harbor can instantly reach Cecil, or even the Star Temple at the southernmost tip of the continent…”

“We’re working on solving this problem,” Gawain nodded. “Communication experts in Cecil and your technicians in Talrond are jointly considering a replacement for the completely destroyed Omega network. We have two main ideas: one is to set up relay hubs at sea, using permanent islands and floating automatic relay towers—but that requires huge construction and maintenance costs, plus some sea facilities need permanent staff, which is a significant investment.

“The second plan is to build ultra-high-power hub towers in the Coastal County and North Harbor, using atmospheric structures to transmit signals. According to your Talrond technicians, the atmosphere’s steady-state boundary layer can reflect modulated arcane oscillation signals—the old Omega global network used similar technology. But this plan has issues too—since Omega’s disappearance, with the current tech levels in Lorren and Talrond, we can’t guarantee its reliability.”

Gawain’s enthusiasm for cutting-edge tech was clear, but Amber was already nodding off. When he finally finished, the half-elf yawned and muttered, “So basically, both plans are pretty unreliable, huh…”

“Strictly speaking, both are possible, but we’ll have to make trade-offs between cost and reliability,” Gawain said seriously. “Considering Talrond’s importance as a member of the alliance, we have to build this cross-sea communication system no matter what.”

“Building cross-sea communication with Talrond…” Amber murmured thoughtfully. “I never thought we’d be doing something like this already. Everything’s moving so fast.”

Gawain said nothing. Instead, a message from Enya before departure suddenly flashed through his mind.

About the “anomalies” detected by the magic goddess Mirmyna, about the possibility that divine memories were being interfered with by some external force, and the three former gods’ new suspicions and worries about the “Sentinels”—all these concerns weighed heavily on Gawain’s heart.

Amber was right—everything was developing quickly. But compared to the challenges mortals were about to face, even this rapid pace might not be fast enough.

…

In Cecil City, deep within the Rebellious Fortress in the Dark Mountains, a large laboratory was brightly lit.

Veronica, holding a platinum scepter, stood calmly before a platform at the center of the lab, her gaze fixed on a crystal vessel placed there. Inside the vessel was half a box of gray-white sand grains. Under the bright overhead lights, the grains emitted a faint grayish aura that spread across the platform, tinting the blue surface as if it were fading into the same hue.

A technician’s voice came from nearby: “Third weight test complete. The sample’s weight change under the influence of the weight-reducing rune matches the expected curve. After the field was closed, the dissipation rate of magic around the sample also fits the expected curve. The sample remains stable in a magical environment, showing no anti-magic properties, no force field repulsion, and no divine characteristics.”

“Next phase test is ready. Platform 2 is free. We need a pure sample for the magic infusion test…”

“Lab 16’s deity analysis team reports their tests are complete. Results will arrive in thirty minutes…”

Listening to the orderly reports and exchanges, Veronica’s serene, gentle expression never wavered. She stared long at the sample before her, then murmured softly as if to herself, “Aside from these visual effects, is it really just ordinary sand… some kind of constant illusion?”

“Director Veronica,” a researcher in a white short robe approached respectfully, bowing his head, “what are the arrangements after this round of testing?”

“We’ll take a short break once we finish here,” Veronica replied, turning to the technician with a faint smile. Elsewhere, she was known by many titles—Her Highness the Princess, the Holy Maiden, the Light’s Emissary—but within these research facilities under the Theocracy Council, in the technical department analyzing divine mysteries, she was called simply “Director of the Think Tank.”

She liked this internal title—it sometimes reminded her of the “Rebellion Project.” Though she had long shut down the emotional logic that once made her nostalgic and deeply moved, she didn’t resist this trigger of memories—it made her feel alive.

“Now we wait for news,” she nodded gently. “From the ‘Senior Advisory Department’—to see if they find anything.”

“Senior Advisory…” The assistant researcher’s face grew serious. Clearly, the term referred to a presence worthy of such solemnity.

At the same time, deep in the “innermost” part of the Rebellious Fortress, in the Shadow Realm’s Rebellion Courtyard, a much smaller, fully healed Sacred Stag and the magic goddess Mirmyna stood on a wide clearing. Before them was a tall platform made of unknown material. At its center, a large pile of gray-white sand dust gathered within a complex, faintly glowing pale blue magic array.

A gray-white halo constantly pulsed around the sand, as if trying to spread some “property” outward, attempting to tint the surrounding array with the same gray-white hue. But the strong aura within the array successfully blocked the halo’s spread—the sand’s corrupting power, which was usually unstoppable in the material world, was compressed to just a few millimeters around the pile on this altar-like platform.

“These sands really can’t ‘contaminate’ the runes you set,” Amon observed after a moment, then turned to the goddess beside him. His gaze fell on a badge hanging from her chest, formed from condensed magic, like the small badges mortals working in the fortress wore. The letters shimmered magically: “Senior Advisor Mirmyna.” “Do you really have to wear a badge like that?”

“Of course! It’s about ceremony—do you know what ceremony means?” Mirmyna replied immediately. “We’re now Senior Advisors to the Theocracy Council, and this is our first time personally leading a research project. Before, we were the subjects of study; now we’re in charge. Don’t you think we should take it seriously?”

Amon replied casually, “I don’t think taking it seriously has anything to do with whether you wear a badge or not…”

“You just don’t want me to put one on you,” Mirmyna shot a glance at the white stag. “‘Senior Advisor Amon’—doesn’t that sound impressive? Wearing it would be great. You always say it looks like a collar…”

“Enough. I don’t want to argue about this,” Amon interrupted, glancing at the platform. The platform wasn’t built by humans, nor was it originally part of the Rebellion Courtyard. It was conjured by Mirmyna’s authority over the magical domain. Together with the array on top, it completely isolated the “shadow sand dust.” “Looks like this thing is running stably. When do we start the next step?”

“Hm, looks about right…” Myrmeena’s expression grew a bit more serious as she fixed her gaze on the swirling dust at the center of the magic circle. (That pile of sand had taken Amber ages to prepare—after all, the two ‘senior advisors’ overseeing this project here were far too large in stature.) While sensing the runes she had personally inscribed and the information they relayed, she spoke in a low voice, “In a moment, both of us will close our eyes. You try to block out all other perceptions as much as possible, but we must stay near the platform. After one minute, we’ll lift the block and open our eyes together.”

Amon still looked doubtful. “Are you sure this process will work?”

“It’s a suggestion from Lady Enya,” Myrmeena replied casually. “She apparently observed something in the dust, but conditions on her end weren’t suitable, so she passed this procedure along to me. The Rebellion Fortress is a natural ‘shielded zone,’ so the phenomena we observe here should be closer to the truth.”

“Alright, I trust Lady Enya’s judgment,” Amon nodded. “Shall we begin?”

Myrmeena’s gaze lingered one last time on the sand pile at the platform’s center before she withdrew her sight, closed her eyes, and gave a slight nod. “Let’s start.”

In the Rebellion Courtyard, shrouded in boundless dim chaos, the two gods closed their eyes side by side near the high platform piled with shadowy dust. The moment their eyes shut, the grains of sand at the heart of the magic circle suddenly dimmed, as if beginning to fade away.

The next instant, Amon unleashed his power, gradually blocking out both his and Myrmeena’s external senses.

As their perceptions were sealed off, the dust on the platform quickly grew dull and translucent, losing color and texture, as if vanishing from existence itself—slowly disappearing into the center of the magic circle…

At the very moment the dust vanished completely, the runes Myrmeena had set began to flash with brilliant light!

Yet neither Amon nor Myrmeena was aware of this. Only after time quietly passed and the sensory block was lifted did Myrmeena’s voice break the silence: “Open your eyes.”

Amon opened his eyes, his crystal-molten gaze taking in the scene on the platform.

He saw the runes flickering rapidly, the dizzyingly complex magic circle pulsing like a faulty magic crystal lamp, its chaotic light and shadow jumping and flashing above the array. Amidst the erratic glow, the original sand pile was nowhere to be seen, but many grayish-white specks appeared and vanished repeatedly—like that pile of dust had been banished from this world and was desperately trying to return.

Amon stared in disbelief. “What… what is happening?”

“When external observation is lost, the shadow dust disappears. Once the observers return, it tries to reappear,” Myrmeena said solemnly, her eyes fixed on the flickering chaos. “But the magic circle I set forcibly locks the ‘state’ within a certain range once it’s out of my observation. What you’re seeing is a ‘contradiction’ trapped inside. According to the scholars of the Nodes, it’s a ‘glitch’—a rift born from the conflict between error derivatives and the real world.”

—

(Friendly recommendation: a book titled Manual for Conquering Another World. It’s a newcomer’s work but has an interesting premise. Here’s the synopsis:

An unexpected accident sends a tour bus carrying twenty-eight people hurtling into a xianxia world.

Centuries pass in the blink of an eye.

Just as the descendants of these travelers face a new crisis, a sudden portal reconnects the two worlds.

In short, it’s the story of a group of rabbits spreading four modernizations in a fantasy world—and giving back to Earth in return.)

(End of chapter)