Chapter 1255: “The Gate”

Early the next morning, Highlord Gawain arrived at Agondor’s High Council Chamber accompanied by Huper. They had already decided to set out ahead of schedule for the western coast, to investigate the situation surrounding that mysterious tower.

The polar night still held sway, so even during what should have been “daytime,” the sun lingered just below the horizon. A faint glow stretched across the distant plains. The corridors were lit by the soft radiance of magic crystal lamps. Ahead of Gawain and Huper walked the black dragon maiden Coretta; their footsteps echoed through the somewhat empty hall as they approached the door to Helagor’s office.

A young, red-haired female dragon of shorter stature opened the door and stepped out. She looked surprised to see Gawain and company so early, then her gaze shifted to Coretta. After a brief greeting, the young dragon hurried away down the corridor.

“That’s Bellranta, the caretaker in charge of the hatchlings,” Coretta murmured with a hint of curiosity after the woman left. “I wonder why she’s here to see the leader at this hour…”

She shook her head, setting the thought aside for now, and stepped forward to push open the office door. “Please come in. The leader is already waiting for you.”

Gawain and Huper entered Helagor’s office. Under the bright lights, they saw the dragon leader seated behind his desk. To their surprise, another familiar figure stood nearby.

Melita Pernea. She was just a few steps from the desk. As Gawain and Huper stepped inside, the blue dragoness turned her head, their eyes meeting. Both looked somewhat taken aback.

But Gawain’s primary purpose today was to discuss urgent matters with Helagor, so he simply nodded a greeting to Melita before focusing on the dragon leader behind the desk. The former dragon priest, with his golden hair and refined demeanor, looked up and smiled faintly before his expression grew serious.

“Is this about the Tidebreaker Tower?” Helagor asked.

Gawain hadn’t even spoken yet when surprise flickered across his face. “How did you know I was going to bring that up?”

“Seems I guessed right,” Helagor said gravely, his expression darkening. “Please, sit. Tell me what’s going on. Why the sudden decision to depart early? Has something changed with that great adventurer? New clues pointing to the tower?”

Gawain glanced at Huper, then took a seat in the chair by the desk. He spoke solemnly: “Huper performed a kind of ‘treatment’ on Modir. Using her unique talents in the Shadow Realm, we managed to halt the ‘corruption’ progressing within him. Though the mechanism remains unclear, we may have inadvertently triggered fragments of the adventurer’s lost memories—he mentioned the tower, and… a ‘breach.’”

Helagor’s brow furrowed sharply. “A breach?”

Gawain nodded and recounted everything that had happened to Modir in detail, sparing no detail—especially the cryptic things Modir muttered in his dazed state. Much of it was difficult for Gawain and Huper to understand, but Helagor, a “demigod” who had lived through countless ages, might glean some insight from those fragmented descriptions.

“He recalled the tower…” Helagor said slowly, his frown deepening. “And it seems he remembered more than just the tower. There’s another place, closely linked to it in his memories…”

“Yes,” Gawain confirmed. “He spoke of ‘another entrance.’ Neither Huper nor I understand what he meant, and he himself is unsure. But based on what we know, Modir’s journey in Talrond only took him to the Tidebreaker Tower. After that, the Dragon God returned him to the continent of Loren. His travel logs never mention the tower again—unless… this ‘other entrance’ is somewhere on Loren, and his journey there happened long after he left Talrond—during a period not recorded in his famous ‘Modir’s Travels.’”

“A gateway… a breach… the key is what these words truly mean,” Helagor said in a low voice. “He must have seen something inside that tower—something that even the gods of that time were unaware of.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to verify inside the tower,” Gawain said firmly. “Arrange our journey to the western continent as soon as possible—the sooner, the better. According to the previous schedule, the Winterwind will soon arrive. It will wait on the sea between the Tidebreaker Tower and the western coast to pick us up. I also need you to send some of your strongest dragon warriors as backup. The Winterwind can serve as a forward base for dragons in human form and provide fire support. If this ‘corruption’ is related to the gods, I can try to handle it. But if the tower spawns more conventional hostile forces, we’ll need the dragons’ protection.”

“You intend to… fight the legacy left by the Pathfinders?” Helagor looked at Gawain with some surprise.

“Just in case. What if some ancient weapon inside the tower goes out of control? Conventional troops might still be useful against that,” Gawain shook his head. “But if things really spiral out of control, regular forces won’t stand a chance—I’ll have to resort to some ‘final measures.’”

Helagor gave Gawain a long, knowing look. He understood exactly what those “final measures” meant.

“I’ll arrange it immediately,” the dragon leader said solemnly. “In fact, even before you arrived, I had already begun preparations. Melita will accompany you, bringing Agondor’s finest warriors.”

Gawain recalled how Helagor had immediately brought up the Tidebreaker Tower upon his arrival, then glanced thoughtfully at Melita. “Looks like you’ve discovered something here as well… something’s happening?”

“The hatchlings,” Melita exhaled softly, a trace of worry in her expression. “Last night, Meri and Nore seemed drawn by some invisible force. They shouted toward the direction of the Tidebreaker Tower for a long time. Afterward, their ‘magic marks’ nearly doubled in size overnight…”

“Those two little ones?!” Gawain tensed instantly. After all, he had watched those hatchlings grow up. Naturally, he was concerned. “Are they alright?”

“Fortunately, no physical harm,” Melita nodded. “And by morning, their condition stabilized. But what’s troubling is… it’s not just those two.”

Huper couldn’t help but interject: “Not just them?”

“All hatchlings bearing the ‘Deep Blue Marks’ have shown the same symptoms,” Helagor’s voice came from nearby, calm but firm. “At the same time, the same ‘symptoms’: their marks expanded as if resonating with some unseen source of power. They became restless, fixated on the direction of the Tidebreaker Tower, until the situation gradually stabilized by morning. Though physically unharmed, there’s more to this…”

The dragon leader leaned forward, hands pressed on the desk, his gaze grave as he looked at Gawain. “We initially believed those marks were simply imprints caused by the magical surges within the Deep Blue Nexus affecting the hatchlings. But now, I must suspect there’s a deeper reason behind their appearance.”

“When did the hatchlings’ abnormal state begin?” Huper suddenly asked Melita.

“I knew you’d ask that,” Melita nodded. “It was roughly right after you completed your ‘treatment’ on Mr. Modir.”

“…Well, that makes this matter ‘interesting,’” Huper’s lips twitched. “So, when do we leave?”

Melita took a deep breath and looked at both Huper and Gawain. “Now.”

…

At the same time, in the border buffer plains between Typhon and Cecile, at the Fortress of the Covenant.

Brilliant streams of arcane flame erupted from the tops of three energy towers, then were gathered and focused by a series of containment and channeling devices, funneled into energy conduits and mana crystals. The massive energy release apparatus hovered slowly in the morning light, humming deeply as it began to rotate.

Cold, fierce winds blew down from the northern mountains, but before reaching the fortress, they were deflected and scattered by the immense energy field flowing here, turning into chaotic gusts that swept wildly across the barren wilderness nearby. Dust and withered grass leaves were whipped into the air, swirling through the desolate expanse. The local wildlife had long since taken shelter from this sudden shift in weather.

Since the Second Age of Expansion, humanity’s most powerful and pure energy system had been ignited deep within this cold plain. Energy of a scale unimaginable to the mages of the old era converged here, then was directed according to plan toward the heart of the facility—the teleportation gate housed within the fortress’s main hall, surrounded by layers of protective barriers and… circuit breakers.

Inside the main hall, various magical devices had been activated. Giant magical arrays covered the floor and dome, emitting a steady, gentle glow. Along the walls, orderly energy conduits carried pure streams of arcane flame. Silver-white alloy “mana rails” extended from beneath the floor, connecting these conduits to underground power cores. Over a dozen control nodes were scattered throughout the hall, each mounted on expensive, precision-crafted alloy bases, with magical crystals or arcane terminals hovering above them to monitor the gate.

Technicians bustled among these awe-inspiring devices, performing final system checks. Kamail floated directly before the teleportation gate, accompanied by Windsor Mapel, the legendary mage from Typhon.

Commands echoed throughout the hall:

“All energy towers successfully ignited! Output power at standard levels—arcane conduit readings stable!”

“Power rails normal, all energy tracks connected, primary and secondary conversions nominal!”

“Inversion array on standby, ready to withstand divine energy surges…”

“All protective systems operational—mental defenses activated, humanity barrier engaged, linked to neural network… Cecile Empire Computing Center identification code received, signal feedback normal!”

“Psionic singers standing by…”

Carmel lifted his head slightly. The rising and falling commands gradually faded into the distance. His gaze fixed on the portal now in its “warm-up” phase. Bright blue flames flickered between the curved skeletal arches, while the rune-inscribed alloy ring slowly floated to the top of the gateway. Amid the faintly twisting light and shadow at the device’s core, images long buried deep in his memory began to surface—faces and scenes from a world he had long left behind…

“Finally…” Windsor Mapel’s voice came from beside him, tinged with barely concealed excitement and awe. “We’ve finally reached this day… Two hundred years. Typhon has been preparing silently for this moment for two centuries…”

“The Defiant have waited a thousand years for this day, my lady,” Carmel replied, the faded images in his mind dissolving as he turned to meet Windsor’s eyes, which reflected the dancing arcane light. “And if you count those pioneers who struggled and failed through countless past cycles of civilization, the mortal race’s wait for this day may well be even longer.”

Windsor Mapel nodded softly, her gaze drifting to the intricate runes etched into the ground near the portal, the arcane network terminals scattered throughout the hall, and the peculiar soldiers clad in lightweight armor, hovering silently nearby—the Cecile troops. She couldn’t help but ask, “Are these protections enough to guard against any ‘contamination’ that might occur during the experiment?”

“In theory, the God of War’s divine realm is already ‘harmless’ to mortals of our era. Even if we stood face-to-face with the God’s divine form now, we wouldn’t be tainted,” Carmel said solemnly. “Of course, accidents can always happen—we must always be prepared for the unexpected. These protective runes have been thoroughly tested; your Majesty can verify their effectiveness. The arcane network terminals broadcast the ‘psionic hymns’ resonating through the neural network across the entire facility. This penetrating psionic vibration offers a more active and potent purification and protection than the runes alone. And those soldiers… they are Psionic Singers, specially trained units designed to combat divine contamination. On the Winterburg battlefield, they’ve already faced the God of War’s divine power head-on—they’ve been battle-tested.”

Windsor listened carefully, nodding slowly. Yet her eyes drifted back to the Psionic Singers’ position, lingering on the strange floating device behind them—a several-meter-wide orb tightly encased in a metallic shell. Her brow furrowed. “What is that? Another part of the protection system? I don’t recall seeing any mention of it in the previous documents…”

“My lady, that’s classified information—even with our close cooperation, some things can’t be casually disclosed,” Carmel said with a hint of a smile. “All I can tell you is that it’s a crucial aid for the Psionic Singers, and a trusted partner of ours from Cecile. If the cooperation between our two nations deepens, and our technological exchanges advance further, it might one day appear on our trade lists. When that happens, you’ll know exactly what it is.”

(End of chapter)