Chapter 1292: The Journey Home

The entire harbor district was shrouded in a rising cloud of dust and smoke, punctuated by thunderous crashes of collapsing structures.

A massive blue dragon soared into the sky, bursting through the swirling dust as she ascended with all her might. Behind her, the crown of the Cycle Tree came crashing down with a deafening roar. The colossal wooden framework that had stood for thousands of years shattered like a giant city dissolving in a dream—branches as thick as clock towers snapped apart, withered leaves and dying vines broke free, tumbling onto the steel ground of the mother port. Each collapse sent low tremors through the metallic earth, stirring up ever larger clouds of dust.

Gawain and the others stood at the edge of Melita’s broad back, peering down at the scene below. The sight was so overwhelming that every one of them was left speechless.

It was as if an entire city was crumbling from the sky before their eyes, millennia of history reduced to rubble in mere minutes. The whole harbor district was engulfed in smoke and dust, even the faint lights left by the voyagers were swallowed up.

A grand funeral.

“Everyone, hold on tight!” Melita’s voice came from ahead, filled with urgency. “The dust is rising too fast down there—we need to speed up!”

No sooner had she spoken than the ground beneath them trembled. They barely had time to admire the spectacle below before they had to steady themselves. The swirling dust clouds began to trail behind Melita as she surged forward at full speed, breaking free from the worst of the collapse. Soon, the ship moored inside the harbor came into view.

Where the ship connected to the port, the encroaching dust had already obscured the indicator lights. The remnants of the giant tree clinging to the ship—broken branches, shrubs, and flowers—had crumbled into fragments. Fortunately, the ship was enormous, and only a small section along the deck’s edge was covered in dust. Melita flew straight over that patch, skimming low between the ship’s structures before finally landing on a wide alloy platform.

Gawain was the first to leap onto the deck. Standing high above, he gazed toward the mother port. Through the hazy glow of distant lights and the faint shimmer of the energy barrier, the towering crown of the Cycle Tree had vanished from sight. In its place rose a “sea of clouds,” a rolling, rapidly growing mountain range that now blanketed the harbor where the giant tree once stood.

“…With this, the next expedition we send here will have a much harder time moving around,” Kamail floated over, his voice low and serious. “The collapsed Cycle Tree has effectively sealed off the entire harbor district. If the team wants to explore the mother port in depth, they’ll have to carve a path through the ruins first.”

Amber, who had just jumped down beside them, sighed deeply. “That’s a pile even bigger than the Isolin Tree… Even if we sent engineering crews, it’d take forever to clear.”

Listening to Amber and Kamail, Gawain remained silent, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

After a while, a low mechanical hum suddenly rose from deep within the ship’s deck beneath their feet. One by one, the mechanical locks between the ship and the port disengaged. The ancient, massive engines roared to life, and the ship’s protective shields automatically rose. The harbor district slowly receded from view as the ship set off once more on its voyage between the divine realms.

Gawain seemed to snap out of his reverie and said softly, “The ship’s underway. Everyone, take a break—eat something and get your strength back.”

Since leaving the God of War’s realm and embarking on this unprecedented expedition, everyone’s nerves had been stretched taut. Even for those with extraordinary constitutions, constant tension was exhausting. Now that they had finally left the “Sentinel Mother Port,” though the return journey would still be spent aboard this ship, at least the most dangerous and unpredictable part was behind them. They could finally relax a little.

The team found a quiet spot near the entrance to the ship’s interior passage, unpacked their food and water, and began to eat and recover. To guard against any last-minute surprises, Melita remained in her dragon form, sprawling on the nearby deck. Her massive, scaled body was like a towering wall, radiating an undeniable sense of security.

Melita lay there, her huge tail curling protectively around the resting team like a shield. Her enormous head rested on the edge of a metal platform, one eye watching the activity on the deck, the other gazing at Amber and the others, who looked a bit bored.

At that moment, Amber approached, holding up a sweet flatbread and waving it in front of Melita’s face. “Hey, aren’t you going to eat something?”

“Do you mean in my dragon form or human form?” Melita lifted a lazy eyelid, her throat rumbling with a deep, resonant sound. “As a dragon, that little flatbread wouldn’t even fill my teeth gaps. But dragons don’t need to eat often—I had a meal before we left yesterday. The next one can wait until next week.”

“You dragons are something else,” Amber said, stunned. She stuffed the flatbread into her mouth and mumbled around it, “I can’t do that. I hate being hungry.”

Melita immediately shut the eye facing Amber and shifted her massive head aside, the sound of scales scraping metal ringing like a metallic clang. “Hey, eat farther away! You’re flicking crumbs into my eye!”

“Ah, sorry, sorry.” Amber quickly stepped back half a pace, swallowing hard and clapping her hands. Melita opened her eye again, glanced toward the resting team, and said, “Hey, have you seen Gawain? I haven’t spotted him since a while ago…”

“He just went down that passage,” Amber replied, wiping her hands on her clothes before turning to look at the ship’s interior hatch. “He didn’t want me to follow, but I’m planning to sneak after him once I’ve eaten. He’s clearly got something on his mind, and he’s going alone—I don’t like that.”

She shook her head, looking a little helpless. “Everyone seems weighed down by their own worries—Modir, Victoria, even Kamail looks off. You’re the only one whose expression I can’t quite read… but I’m sure you have your own troubles too. Now that I think about it, only Daniel and his female apprentice seem unchanged. The former looks like the sky will never fall, the latter like it’s always falling…”

Melita propped open her eyelid and stared at Amber. Even Amber, with her thick skin, felt a shiver under that huge gaze and blurted out, “Why are you staring at me like that? Got crumbs on my face?”

“You seem like the most carefree person around Gawain, but you’re actually one of the sharpest and most attentive Loren I know,” Melita said with a hint of a smile. “You’re always watching everyone and every little detail, but most of the time you pretend to be doing nothing, making yourself seem the least useful.”

Amber blinked, waved her hand dismissively, and muttered as she turned toward the hatch, “Survival rules in the slums—that’s what it’s called…”

Melita watched Amber walk away before slowly withdrawing her gaze. Nearby, Modir had wandered off to a quiet spot, staring blankly at the swirling chaos beyond the ship’s shields, lost in thought.

Victoria approached him, concern etched on her face. After hesitating, she finally spoke, “Ancestor, are you worried about the time you have left?”

“I’ve been through an unprecedented adventure,” Modir said suddenly. “On this ship, I’ve seen more than ever before—secrets unknown to those who came before, things almost forgotten… I think I should be content, Victoria. I’ve come so far, lived six hundred years—I can’t be too greedy.”

“You can’t give up yet,” Victoria said quickly. “Amber can help stabilize your condition for now, and in the meantime, we can search for solutions. We can seek out the Lady of Night’s realm, find the other half of your body and soul that was split away. It’s not impossible—we even defeated the God of War, reached the deep sea, and uncovered the voyagers’ legacy. Ancestor, even without gods, mortals can create miracles…”

“I’ve always believed in miracles,” Modir smiled, a calmness on his face that surprised Victoria. “I haven’t given up, Victoria. Don’t misunderstand me—I just have no regrets about any outcome. But if there’s a chance to survive, of course I want it. Who would willingly seek death otherwise?”

Victoria felt a little awkward. “Uh… that’s good. I thought…”

Modir smiled at this woman who was theoretically his descendant but had been a stranger until recently. Curiously, he asked, “Do you care about me, Victoria? I might be blunt, but until not long ago, we didn’t even know each other. We were strangers, connected only by a faint bloodline spanning six centuries… You have closer, more familiar people in your life, and to you, I probably don’t feel very close.”

Victoria looked at the old man in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to bring up such a delicate topic. After a moment of silence, she spoke softly, breaking the quiet.

“You’re right. In theory… there isn’t much deep familial affection between us. For a long time, you were just a story passed down in family records. Now you’ve stepped out of that story, but the person before me is very different from what I imagined. I can’t quite see you as a warm, familiar elder, even though I know I should…”

“Then how do you see me?” Modir asked, genuinely curious.

Victoria pondered carefully for a long moment before finally speaking. “A great man—a greatness that once seemed so distant, but now stands right before me. I’m trying to understand you, perhaps much like Hetty and Rebecca did back then.”

After saying this, she looked at Modir, who seemed deep in thought, and asked again, “Do you have any plans once you return?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Modir replied. “Miss Amber has helped stabilize things for now, but barring any surprises, I probably have about a year left to arrange the rest of my life. I was just considering whether to spend that year on one last grand adventure—traveling somewhere as far away as possible to witness even stranger things. But just now, while looking at you… another idea came to me.”

“Another idea?” Victoria asked, intrigued.

“I’ve traveled the world—maybe more than once. Though some memories have faded, I still have vague impressions of many places. But there’s one place… I hardly know it at all. It’s so unfamiliar that I can’t even remember where it is,” Modir said, suddenly locking eyes with Victoria, his tone serious. “I want to see it.”

“That place is…?”

“Take me home,” Modir said slowly. “Maybe my final ‘adventure’ in this life is to return to a hometown I’ve completely forgotten—Victoria. It’s nestled in a range of towering mountains, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Victoria’s usually impassive face seemed to come alive. Meeting Modir’s gaze, she recalled the place where she was born and raised. “There’s a beautiful castle on the highest mountain in the North. It’s cold most of the time; only rooms with a roaring fireplace offer warmth. But the views are stunning—you can see snow-capped peaks to the north, white courtyards, and the bustling town below. It’s not as modern or new as Northport, but in its streets and alleys, you can trace six hundred years of the Wilde family’s rise and fall since you left.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Modir Wilde smiled. “I really should go see it.”

…

In the vast desert, covered with fine gray-white sand, a towering throne stood amid the ruins of a collapsed altar. The mountain-like figure seated upon it bowed his head slightly, gazing down at a small stone pillar at his feet, and at the ancient tome resting atop it.

“Oh, you’re awake, great adventurer,” Lady Night’s dignified voice echoed through the empty expanse. “Did you have a good dream?”

“Sort of,” came the old man’s voice from the black leather-bound book on the pillar, tinged with the lingering confusion of waking from a dream. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had one like that…”

“What did you dream about?”

“I dreamed I was packing my things, setting out to return home,” Wilde’s voice was low and steady, telling his sole listener in this barren sea of sand. “It feels like it’s been many years since I last went home…”

“…Yes, great adventurer, home is a distant notion. Do you want to go back?”

“Maybe. I think I do. But I’m not even sure if that thought is truly mine…”

(End of chapter)