Chapter 1289: The Spaceship Wreckage

With a sharp slap from Amber, the swirling gray-white dust that had been rising and dissipating from Modir’s body suddenly came under visible control, rapidly converging back into the old mage’s form. Yet Amber’s expression didn’t relax in the slightest; if anything, she looked even more serious and tense than before. After withdrawing her hand, she stared at Modir for a long moment before finally breaking the silence.

“This can only hold for a while…”

“I know,” Modir said with a complicated smile, holding his hands up before his eyes. “I can feel it… as parts of my memories ‘loosen’ in my mind, I’m finally sensing it… Miss Amber, am I… already dead?”

Amber opened her mouth, and even with her usually carefree nature, she was momentarily at a loss for how to answer such a blunt question. Just then, Gawain stepped forward, gently patting Amber’s shoulder to signal her to step back for a moment. He then looked Modir in the eyes.

“I won’t hide it from you… From the perspective of a mortal’s normal life form, you shouldn’t still be alive. Both your body and soul are only half intact, but there’s a force sustaining your life.”

“Lady Nyx?” Modir furrowed his brow slightly, pondering. “Is that the deity I saw in the ‘dreamscape’?”

Both Gawain and Amber nodded simultaneously. Modir let out a relieved smile.

“Oh, that’s not hard to guess.”

“I have to remind you again,” Amber said, her voice tightening as she saw the old mage’s calm smile, “your situation isn’t good. Though the mechanism is unclear, your memory state is clearly linked to your soul and body. Now that you’re recalling things you theoretically shouldn’t remember, the shadow dust sustaining your half-body is extremely unstable. It’s trying to return to Lady Nyx’s divine realm—your life right now depends on these shadow particles. Once they leave, you…”

“How much longer do I have?” Modir interrupted, his face calm.

“…Hard to say,” Amber answered honestly. “Without me stabilizing you temporarily, you’d probably reach your limit in ten to fifteen days. Even with my help, you might only last another year or two at most. To be honest, the shadow dust on you comes directly from the Shadow Divine Realm, not the ‘high-quality replicas’ I summon. I can only control it a little, and these particles are determined to return ‘there.’ If I can delay it, that’s already a miracle.”

“One or two years…” Modir listened quietly to Amber’s cold facts, a trace of regret finally surfacing on his face. “Honestly, it’s sudden, but I believe you’ve done your best, Miss Amber. That time left isn’t much, but it’s not nothing either. I need to plan carefully… really plan.”

“Ancestor, you…” Victoria, standing nearby, finally stepped forward, seemingly wanting to support the still-weak old man. But Modir waved her off and then turned toward the flowering vine inside the cabin. He stared at it for a long time before softly breaking the silence.

“Sorry… I have let you all down.”

The cabin fell into a heavy silence. Then, Gawain suddenly recalled the intelligence Amber had brought back from Lady Nyx’s realm—the mysterious book called “Velde” and the countless warnings written on every page about the “Watchful Sentinel.” A thought struck him, and he vaguely grasped a key piece of the puzzle.

“No, Modir, although things may have strayed from the original plan, the warning the elven twins gave you might not have been entirely in vain. It wasn’t delivered to the world, but perhaps it reached another crucial ‘person.’”

“Another crucial ‘person’?” Kamail asked curiously. “You mean…”

“I’ve been thinking—The Sentinel has been out of control for over a thousand years, and the corruption of the Tides of Reversal spread among the Pilgrim’s Legacy even earlier. This dangerous force had so much time to slowly plan the destruction of our world, yet our world still ‘survives’ today. The rogue Sentinel lay dormant in the real world for a very long time before it began to act. Doesn’t that seem odd?” Gawain pondered aloud. “There’s a critical period—from six hundred years ago when Modir entered the Tower of Reversal until his disappearance…”

Amber slowly caught on. “During that time, the Tides of Reversal’s core broke free from the tower’s control. Modir met the elven twins trapped in the ‘Sentinel’s Mother Port.’ Then, the twins’ warning ‘accidentally’ reached Lady Nyx, while the Tides’ core never entered the real world—it seems to be attacking Lady Nyx’s throne instead.”

“Yes, that creature suspected to be the Tides’ core is assaulting Lady Nyx’s throne. So maybe there’s another explanation… Perhaps it’s trapped there too,” Gawain said, locking eyes with Amber as if some previously vague clues were becoming clearer. “The corrupted Sentinel and the Tides’ core—if both entered our reality simultaneously, the consequences would be unimaginable. That might be the true beginning of the disaster. I believe that was the Sentinel’s original plan.”

“After breaking free from its mission, the first thing it likely did was release the ‘Tides of Reversal’ sealed in the tower. Given it’s corrupted by the Tides, that’s highly probable. This also explains the deep blue rift in the northern tower. Its goal was probably to merge the real world with the Tides’ core… but that plan clearly failed.”

“But that’s just your speculation,” Amber interjected sharply.

Her gaze was unusually sharp.

“It is speculation,” Gawain said gravely. “The elven twins’ warning reached Lady Nyx, and around the same time, the Tides’ core escaped the tower. While we suspected the Tides would try to corrupt the isolated Lady Nyx, we can’t rule out another possibility: Lady Nyx might have taken action in response to the ‘Watchful Sentinel’ warning, trying to imprison the Sentinel’s source of corruption. As an ancient deity, she may know secrets far beyond our imagination—what the dragons did back then, the Tides, the Sentinel. It’s very possible she acted on that knowledge.”

He paused, sighing softly. “Of course, we can’t verify any of this now. For the moment, we can only boldly assume this: for roughly six hundred years, Lady Nyx, having received the warning, held back the Tides’ advance, buying our world six centuries… until today. If that’s true, then the efforts of the elven twins and Modir were not in vain. Our world has survived because of them—at least, until now.”

Modir had been quietly listening all along. In truth, he only understood part of what Gawain and Amber discussed. Half of his lost memories remained elusive, and the rest were mostly vague impressions. Still, Gawain’s words brought some comfort to the old mage. He gave a complex smile and spoke in a low voice.

“Though I still don’t remember the details from back then, as long as the elven sisters’ efforts weren’t wasted, I feel much better inside…”

“Their efforts certainly weren’t wasted. But now I worry about one thing… how much longer can Lady Nyx hold out alone?” Gawain shook his head slightly. “Her battle with the Tides seems deadlocked, but in our reality, the rogue Sentinel appears to be moving. It’s been secretly active in the ruins of Gondor, using replicas of Lerna and Filna. And the forces we’ve gathered beneath the Great Wall still aren’t enough to break through that vast corrupted zone… We can’t even confirm what those cultists are up to.”

“If your theory is correct, and the Sentinel really released the Tides’ core six hundred years ago through the deep blue rift, then it must know the planet’s ‘Deep Blue Network’ very well—after all, it possesses advanced knowledge left by the Pilgrims,” Kamail suddenly spoke up. The arcane glow around him flickered as the ancient master processed the rapid thoughts. “That matches our earlier speculation about ‘abnormal surges occurring within the Deep Blue Network’…”

Kamail’s words connected many clues that had surfaced over this period, giving everyone in the cabin a clearer glimpse of the truth hidden behind the fog. Gawain instinctively fell into deep thought. But just as he was halfway through, the sound of massive wings beating the air and the tremor of a heavy landing suddenly came from outside, breaking everyone’s concentration.

The next second, heavy footsteps approached the cabin. Melita Pernia’s deep, commanding voice echoed from outside in her dragon form.

“Gawain! Come out quickly! I saw something up in the sky!”

Everyone inside instinctively turned toward the door. Then they noticed the light spilling in from the doorway dimmed suddenly—a huge shadow loomed. A massive dragon head craned forward, trying to squeeze through the doorframe. Of course, it couldn’t fit, so the dragon’s snout soon pulled back, replaced by a giant eye that rolled and scanned the cabin interior. Melita’s strong voice came from a nearby window.

“Gawain! Are you in there? I can’t see clearly.”

The scene was straight out of the terrifying dragon tales bards tell—art imitating life.

Gawain hurried to the door, shouting as he went, “I’m here, I’m here! Stop yelling, you’re about to deafen us all! What did you see?”

Kamail floated after Gawain, muttering, “I don’t have ears…”

Melita finally withdrew her head from the doorway, crouching awkwardly as she took small steps backward, watching Gawain and the others emerge from the cabin. Her expression was unusually serious—though it was hard to read on a dragon’s face.

“I saw other ports, and at those ports… other ships! You have to come see for yourselves. It’s not something ordinary!”

“Other ports?! Other ships?!” Gawain’s eyes widened instantly, a chill running down his spine. But from Melita’s gaze, he realized the situation was probably more complicated than he imagined. He quickly moved toward the blue dragon’s descending wings.

“Take me there—everyone else wait down here. Amber, stay behind too. Modir just stabilized; this place is strange. Keep an eye on him.”

With that, he mounted Melita’s broad back. The next moment, the great dragon soared into the sky.

The staggering scale of the “home port” meant it was protected by an equally massive defensive shield. Above this colossal structure—almost like an artificial continent—the dome formed by the energy barrier created a sky vast enough for even a creature as enormous as a dragon to fly freely. Melita didn’t have to skim low like she did on the ship; instead, she soared upward, heading straight for the dome overhead. At the same time, her deep voice reached Gawain’s ears.

“After I went out just now, I wanted to get a better look at the surrounding terrain from high above, so I flew a bit farther away. That’s when I saw something we missed when the ship landed.”

As she spoke, she adjusted her flight path slightly, causing the sprawling steel landscape below to tilt out of Gawain’s direct line of sight. Gradually, the distant scenery came into view.

“The angle we had when the ship landed was just right to have the canopy of the Reincarnation Tree block our view, so we couldn’t see what was beyond,” Melita explained. “But now… just look. It’s all clear.”

Gawain stood and moved closer to Melita’s shoulder, squinting into the distance.

He saw another port at the edge of the “continent,” torn apart by some unknown force. Jagged, twisted steel wreckage stretched like a gaping wound into the darkness beyond. Floating nearby in the void was another destroyed ship—broken cleanly into three sections, yet its main outline was still unmistakable. It was identical to the ship Gawain and the others had arrived on.

His eyes widened, and then he shifted his gaze even farther out. At the horizon, another port lay in ruins, along with another shattered ship.

“Every ship and dock except the one we came on has been destroyed,” Melita said. “Though they’re far away, these ships and ports are huge—you can see the damage from a distance. The shape of this ‘home port’ beneath us roughly resembles a six-pointed snowflake. Each ‘point’ should have a ship and a corresponding berth… but now, only one remains.”

“Who did this? Could it be an external attack?” Gawain asked instinctively.

“It was a civil war.”

(End of chapter)