Chapter 1274: Arrival at the Treaty Fortress

Philip, the direct commander of the First Legion and the supreme commander of the Empire’s land forces, had personally witnessed a series of major battles—the Southern Campaign, the Crystal Cluster War, the Godhunter Campaign, among others. He was hailed as the most outstanding young general in the northern continent in nearly a century. Once an obscure figure from a remote backwater, Philip had now become one of the Empire’s most sought-after leaders.

Yet he remained active on the Empire’s “front lines”—whether facing assembled noble legions, twisted and frenzied monsters, deranged gods, or the corrupted unknown wastelands.

Compared to a few years ago, the now-thirty-something Philip was noticeably more composed and reserved. His growing experience and rising status had exposed him to a wide array of people, tempering the simple-minded idealism and rigid knightly dogma he once held when first stepping out of the Cecil territory. Still, when he saw the “advance corps” laboring on the edge of the wasteland, far from the comforts of civilized lands, his sincere smile never faded, nor did his generous praise: “Mr. Gordon, you have accomplished a great feat—the Empire and its people will not forget this achievement.”

“You flatter me, General,” the chief architect Gordon replied with a smile. The wind blowing from the wasteland filtered through the fortress’s barriers, ruffling his somewhat unkempt hair. “And our work is far from finished. Building the advance base at the foot of the Grant Wall and establishing a foothold here is only the first step. Next, we must truly breach that barrier and root ourselves within the wasteland itself—that will be the real challenge.”

Philip nodded gently, then glanced toward the base. “Let’s talk as we walk.”

The group headed toward the exit of the armed platform, leaving behind the imposing armored train, the Winter General, which continued to undergo maintenance by the technical sergeants. Just before descending the stairs, Gordon couldn’t help but glance back at the massive armored train, admiration shining in his eyes. “What a magnificent beast… This is the first time I’ve seen an armored train up close.”

“This one was specially prepared for the counteroffensive in the wasteland,” the silver-haired young man following Philip said with a nod. “And it’s only the first. Once the second railway line opens, a second heavy armored train and three ‘Iron Scepter’ light armored trains will arrive here in succession—these tough machines are our key assets for pushing forward in the wasteland.”

“Yes, we’ve already received the corresponding construction orders. Bruce and I are personally overseeing these projects,” Gordon said as they walked along the main road deeper into the base. “So far, everything is progressing smoothly.”

“Looks like things are going well on our side,” Philip nodded with satisfaction, then paused before adding, “The advance base at Typhon has also been built up to the foot of the Grant Wall. Have you heard any recent updates from them?”

“Yes, General,” Gordon replied immediately. “According to our joint operations agreement, the Typhon forces sent a messenger the very day they reached the Grant Wall—it was someone personally dispatched by the ‘Wolf General.’ We’re currently setting up relay stations on the eastern hills to enable long-range communications between the two fortresses as soon as possible…”

“Andersa Wendell…” Philip’s expression grew thoughtful, tinged with a hint of emotion at the mention of the ‘Wolf General.’ “I heard the Typhon border defenses were being adjusted to support this counteroffensive, but I didn’t expect her to come here in person… Now we’re allied watching each other’s backs. Life is full of surprises.”

“…Are you worried that the old animosity between our two nations might affect cooperation with the ‘Wolf General’?” Gordon asked curiously. “I heard she lost an eye in the previous war…”

“No, I’m not worried about that. Though she was once a formidable enemy, when national interests demand it, she becomes a reliable ally,” Philip shook his head. Having some insider knowledge and having met the ‘Little Wolf’ himself, he could make a more accurate judgment. “She’s a soldier worthy of respect.”

There was one thing Philip didn’t say aloud: the old grudges between Andersa and Cecil (or rather, the old Ansu) were no longer a concern. The misunderstandings of the past had long since been resolved. Her father was now living a peaceful life at the research institute on the Solin Plain, clocking in and out every day and competing with colleagues for food in the cafeteria…

Shaking off these trivial thoughts, Philip’s expression grew more serious as he asked, “You mentioned relay stations just now… What kind of communication system do we currently have between our camps? Not just with the Typhon base, but also with our own satellite outposts and distant watchtowers around here.”

Gordon thought for a moment, then answered earnestly: “We’re still using the previous mature design. For shorter distances, we rely on wireless communication between magic network terminals. For longer distances, we use the Grant Wall’s own information chain to relay signals. Specifically, we build relay stations that send signals to the Sentinel Towers, which then transmit the signals through their communication channels to another distant relay station. This method saves nearly half the cost, and the Silver Elves’ technology is mature and reliable. The radiation power of those ancient towers is enough for us to call directly to the Typhon advance base from here.”

Philip listened carefully, but his expression gradually darkened, causing Gordon to feel a twinge of nervousness.

“General, is there something wrong?” the chief architect finally asked, noticing Philip’s change in demeanor.

“Technically, I trust your and the communication experts’ judgment, but as a soldier, I have some additional concerns,” Philip said thoughtfully. “I’ve seen out-of-control crystal armies on the Holy Spirit Plains, and witnessed lost troops and hijacked communications on the Winter Fortress front. Experience tells me that many things in this world are unreliable—especially something as ancient and mysterious as the Grant Wall… not to mention that we can’t fully control it.”

Gordon’s expression grew serious as well. “You mean…”

“The Grant Wall has had problems before. Back then, a large number of aberrations slipped through—you were there during that time, so you should remember clearly. Later, we joined with multiple nations to repair it, but honestly, that only patched the holes and reinforced the wall. The root cause of the wall’s issues was never truly resolved—you know this too,” Philip looked Gordon in the eye. “Chief Architect, have you ever considered what we’ll do if the wall malfunctions again?”

Gordon’s heart skipped a beat.

“Besides relying on the Grant Wall’s communication channels, we need to establish at least one backup channel,” Philip continued, “That means more relay stations and mobile communication posts, especially between our base and Typhon’s… We might even need one or two additional outposts to ensure the channel’s security.”

“Cost is no concern,” Philip said firmly. “His Majesty has already granted us sufficient authority to do this.”

Gordon lowered his head. “Understood, General.”

Philip nodded, then turned to the silver-haired youth behind him. “Findel, you’re the communications unit commander. Starting today, you and your soldiers will work closely with the communication experts here to familiarize yourselves with the system—including the field relay stations. Operating in the wasteland environment is very different from the Imperial Academy. I hope you grasp that quickly.”

The young northern heir straightened his chest and responded with precision, “Yes, General Philip!”

…

Andersa Wendell withdrew her gaze from the distant ancient tower.

The Grant Wall’s magnificent energy barrier, like a shimmering waterfall of light, soared to the southwest of the advance base. No matter from which direction one viewed it, the awe it inspired never diminished.

It was hard to imagine that seven centuries ago, the Silver Empire had built such a grand and spectacular marvel—one that also served as a stark reminder to all who saw it of just how dangerous the wasteland inside the barrier truly was.

Andersa exhaled softly, setting aside her reflections on ancient history. She left the command room window and returned to her tactical table, her eyes scanning several maps and documents awaiting confirmation.

Though this advance base, built by thousands of engineering mages working day and night, had already established a foothold on the edge of the wasteland, it was only the beginning of the grand counteroffensive plan led by Typhon, Cecil, and the Silver Empire. More troops would gather at these bases, more supplies would be transported from the homeland to the front, and engineering units would cross the energy barrier to rekindle the light of civilization on the wasteland after seven centuries. To achieve these inspiring goals, she still had much work to do.

As Andersa sat down, a steady knock came at the door. After receiving permission, a shorter female adjutant stepped inside.

Her skin was a shade darker, bearing the features of a southern Empire minority. Silver-white hair fell over her shoulders, and her calm, reserved eyes held a faint golden hue—evidence of a rare mixed bloodline tracing back to a night elf ancestor.

This was Andersa’s new adjutant, personally chosen after her return to the military-political system. After the Godhunter Campaign that changed everyone’s fate, many old faces disappeared and many new ones appeared. This mixed-blood woman from the Empire’s south was one of those new faces.

“Coreya,” the young Wolf General nodded slightly at her new adjutant. “Looks like the messengers we sent to the Cecil base have returned.”

“Yes, I just finished the handover,” Coreya replied in a low, calm voice. She stepped forward and placed a pale yellow flower frozen inside a crystal of ice on Andersa’s desk. “This is for you.”

“…A flower? Where did this come from?” Andersa stared at the flower encased in ice. It looked freshly picked, its vibrant beauty starkly out of place amid the wasteland outside the base. It was clearly not from the nearby wilderness, which made her frown. “Could some foolish, short-sighted quartermaster have brought this from the rear? If so, that person should be reprimanded—we’ve only held this position for two days!”

“Of course not,” Coreya shook her head. “The messengers brought it back—from near the Cecil base.”

Andersa’s surprise deepened. “Near the Cecil base? Their base… is also in the wasteland radiation zone. How could there be…”

“The messengers were surprised too. They said there’s a patch of land on the edge of the Cecil base where plants grow lushly, almost like a miracle. The Cecilians explained it’s due to underground biomass pipelines and nutrient grids, but we don’t know the details.”

“…Another one of those ‘mysterious technologies’ from the Cecilians, huh… Well, I suppose I should be used to it by now. After all, they even have a single giant tree that can cover an entire city,” Andersa muttered, rubbing her forehead. Yet her gaze drifted back to the tiny flower encased in the ice crystal, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Let’s leave it here—it’s beautiful. Please thank the messengers for me.”

Her adjutant nodded and acknowledged the order. After a brief pause, Andersa casually asked, “Any news from Winterwolf Keep?”

“Lord Ferdinand reports that all is well at Winterwolf Keep. There’s no need for you to worry.”

“All is well with Grandfather, then…” Andersa murmured softly, a hint of bittersweet emotion stirring within her.

Her elderly grandfather had returned to the border fortress where he had spent half his life commanding. The Border Knights, hastily reassembled from several depleted regiments, had smoothly taken over the defense of Winterwolf Keep under his guidance. Meanwhile, she led the fully staffed Winterwolf Legion, deployed to the frontlines facing the wasteland, working alongside the Cecilians and the Silver Elves to prepare plans for a counteroffensive.

On the surface, the deployment seemed smooth and logical. But behind it lay the harsh reality of an empire drained of vitality after the great war. Though things were improving rapidly—economy and livelihoods rebounding swiftly with the launch of the intercontinental trade routes—some things simply couldn’t be rushed. Experienced and capable generals don’t just sprout overnight.

Even the retired old men were being pulled from their homes to command border forces…

Andersa suddenly shook her head firmly, casting aside those slightly pessimistic thoughts.

Things would get better. Temporary hardships shouldn’t affect her mindset here.

…

While the generals at the foot of the mighty walls busied themselves with preparations for the wasteland counterattack, Gawain and Amber’s group finally left the eternal night shrouding Talrond and returned to the long-missed continent of Loren.

They didn’t head back to Cecilian City but went straight to the Citadel of the Covenant, where the “Gate” project was underway.

The fortress named for the Covenant towered high in the center of the plains. Around it, the wasteland had been transformed beyond recognition by the efforts of countless engineering teams. Three energy towers, arranged in a triangular formation, rose around the castle, their blazing blue flames shooting so high they seemed to scorch the clouds above. From a bird’s-eye view, neatly planned roads, pipelines, and power rails connected the facilities, making the entire area look like a massive, intricately structured, and mysterious engineering marvel embedded in the earth. Even dragons from Talrond couldn’t help but marvel at the sight.

“You really have stirred up quite a commotion here…” Melita Pernia broke through the clouds and, upon seeing the scene around the Citadel of the Covenant, couldn’t help but sigh in awe.

(End of chapter)