Chapter 1409: The Mark

The focus of the rune array slowly converged on Amber, who had just barely come out of her daze—only to instantly plunge back into confusion.

“What is this thing?” Amber blinked, pointing at herself, then instinctively hopped a couple of steps aside. “Wait, wait, is something wrong with this thing…? Why is it still following me?”

Several soft beams of light shifted their direction in sync with Amber’s movements, always firmly pointing at the shadow assault goose. After a brief moment of surprise, Mimirna finally caught on. She fixed Amber with a strange look as the girl bounced nearby, trying to dodge the beams. “…This is a rune I set up to detect shadow-leaning divine power. It’s just now triggered.”

“Shadow-leaning… divine power?” Amber finally stopped moving, clearly surprised—she must have been distracted earlier and missed this explanation. “On me? So this thing really is broken…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, stopping herself mid-thought, clearly aware of how unlikely it was for a spell personally laid down by a former goddess of magic to malfunction. Nearby, Gawain gave her a stern look. “These runes weren’t originally pointing at you—what exactly were you doing just now?”

“Me?” Amber frowned, trying to recall the moments that had become strangely hazy in her mind. She had completely forgotten what happened when she fell, but the few seconds before that seemed to have left faint traces, like shallow marks in sand, etched lightly in her memory. After a long effort, those faint impressions gradually sharpened. She frowned uncertainly. “I think I saw a shadow suddenly fly past my eyes, and I reached out to grab it… like this.”

As she spoke, she waved her hand in front of her, as if demonstrating. The next moment, Gawain saw a grayish-white “imprint” suddenly appear in the air—like the very space had been stained with some color. The mark appeared abruptly and was firmly held in Amber’s hand.

The scene fell silent for a few seconds until Amber broke the quiet first. “…Holy crap.”

The rune array floating in the air flared even brighter than before, all beams converging on the grayish-white imprint. But even without the runes’ guidance, Gawain and the others had already realized what was happening. They stared dumbfounded at the shadow assault goose for several seconds before Gawain’s mouth twitched. “How do you manage to pocket everything…”

“Is this a ‘pocketing’ problem?!” Amber was startled herself. Holding the grayish-white imprint—weightless like smoke but undeniably real—she widened her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on… I just grabbed at it casually, and then I completely forgot what happened next. I mean, when you see a fly buzzing by, don’t you just wave your hand?”

“I’ve never heard anyone describe stealing power from a god like that,” Mimirna said, waving away the rune array. She looked down at Amber, scrutinizing her carefully several times before speaking thoughtfully. “This is clearly a remnant of the Lady of Night’s power left in the corpse of the Reverse Tide god… or at least an echo of it. But now it’s transferred to you. Do you feel anything unusual? Hear or see anything? Or have any memories or knowledge that aren’t your own?”

“Nothing at all.” Amber shook her head vigorously. Now somewhat calmer, she looked curiously at the grayish-white imprint in her hand. Finding it neither hot nor sharp, she began to play with it like a strap, flicking it back and forth. Then she grabbed the other end with her other hand and pulled it taut, stretching it out several times its length. When she released it, the imprint snapped forward like a stretched rubber band—then quickly snapped back into her hand.

This reckless play left the serious Gawain and the two former gods speechless—Amon’s deer-like face even showed genuine shock.

Finally, Gawain couldn’t help himself and slapped Amber on the shoulder. “We’re trying to analyze this seriously here, and you’re just playing around? Is that appropriate?”

“Oh, oh, you guys, you guys,” Amber suddenly snapped to attention and shrank her neck. “I was just testing what this thing is like…”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve ‘stolen’ something from the Lady of Night,” Amon coughed lightly, his crystal-melted eyes fixed on the grayish-white imprint in Amber’s hand. “Last time it was shadow dust, this time a shadow imprint… I can’t shake the feeling this is some kind of… gradual process. Do you get that feeling too?”

Amber’s carefree expression froze instantly, her pointed ears twitching. “You… you saying that kind of creeps me out…”

“The connection between you and the Lady of Night has been obvious for some time,” Gawain said, looking at Amber with unusual seriousness. “But now it seems your link to Her might be deeper than we thought. And this connection… seems to deepen over time or due to some external trigger. We can’t tell yet if this is good or bad, but getting too close to a god is never safe. From now on, stay away from the Reverse Tide’s remains—you’re not to participate in or approach any research on them. We can’t be sure if there’s more ‘shadow power’ left there.”

Faced with a matter of life and death, Amber instantly shifted from reckless to cautious, nodding quickly. Mimirna then added, “So far, neither the shadow dust nor this imprint has harmed you. These ‘Night Authorities’ seem to become… ‘neutralized’ when in your hands. But you must be extremely careful. If you notice any changes in these powers or anything strange about yourself, report it immediately.”

Mimirna delicately implied that divine powers in Amber’s possession become some kind of counterfeit version, but Amber clearly wasn’t in the mood to care about such details. She looked down at the shadow imprint, lightly held in her hand, absentmindedly wrapping it around her arm as she muttered, “That may be, but this can’t go on forever. I wish I could figure out what the Lady of Night really wants… or at least know where her divine realm is…”

“That’s probably going to be even harder than before,” Gawain shook his head. “The Sentinels are gone, and the ship that could travel between divine realms has been destroyed. Now, aside from the War God’s realm, we have no way to approach or observe any god’s domain—let alone the Lady of Night’s.”

“Now, all we can do is hope these remnants of the Lady of Night’s power in your hands can help,” Mimirna’s voice came from above. “The Council is still studying the shadow dust you summoned earlier, but progress is slow. Now you have this ‘shadow imprint’ too. Hopefully, it can break the deadlock in research. If we can establish a connection to the Lady of Night through these remnants, things will be much easier.”

“That’s all we can do,” Amber sighed helplessly. Even with her usual carefree nature, she felt the weight of the situation. “If only I could open a gateway to the Night Realm like we did with the War God’s domain.”

She released her grip, and the smoky, shifting gray-white imprint gradually dissipated into the air—but she could still clearly feel the power hadn’t left her. Instead, it lingered beside her in some imperceptible way.

She curled her lip. Amber’s eyes reflected the cold starlight, which quietly bathed the night. For some reason, a strange sense of unreality crept into her heart, as if the whole world had become less tangible—like a dream shrouded in thick fog. Or maybe… she herself was the illusion.

Gawain patted Amber’s shoulder. “Don’t overthink it.”

The starlight seemed to warm and solidify a little.

…

Afterward, the Talash Plains spent two quiet days in calm. On the 47th day of the Fire Moon, the third day after the war’s end, a massive withdrawal operation and a series of follow-up and handover activities officially began.

This war would profoundly change the course of the world. It was clear that whether for rebuilding the wasteland, monitoring pollution dissipation, or maintaining stability and protecting national interests, the Alliance would maintain a certain garrison presence along the Talash Plains and the Barrier Wall for a long time to come. But the Alliance didn’t need to keep all its main forces here.

Maintaining such a large army far from civilized lands was a heavy burden. This life-or-death war had raged from last year into this, with intensity and scale surpassing any recorded conflict in history. Many weaker nations were already overwhelmed, and even established powers like Typhon couldn’t sustain such staggering losses. Considering the urgent need to restore economic and social normalcy, after a high-level online meeting, the main forces began a massive, orderly withdrawal, with millions of mortal soldiers pulling back from the Talash Plains.

In the northern Deep Blue Well, inside the frontline command center, Gawain stood by the window watching the busy scene outside. The second wave of withdrawing troops was assembling at the base, including soldiers under Cecil’s command, dragonborn from the Holy Dragon Principality, and expeditionary forces from Talrond.

Some Talrond expedition soldiers transformed into their dragon forms in the open field, lowering their wings to the ground so human soldiers could load supplies onto their backs. Nearby, dragonborn warriors discussed the flight order for the return trip—they planned to relay and carry their comrades back by air.

“…I never expected that in such a short time, they’d become so familiar and adapted to each other,” Philip’s voice came from beside him. “Humans, dragons, dragonborn, plus elves, dwarves, orcs from other fronts… Just a few months ago, many soldiers had never even met ‘other races,’ but now they help each other so naturally.”

“The battlefield is like a forge, melting together ‘ingots’ from all corners of the world,” Gawain said softly, a hint of emotion in his voice. “No form of communication is as efficient or effective as the bond formed by covering each other’s backs in battle. In a way, we should be grateful for this war—it proved the Alliance’s existence is both right and necessary.”

Philip nodded, then suddenly seemed to remember something and couldn’t help but laugh. “Seeing all these troops regrouping to head home, I just recalled Byron’s message this morning. He sounded pretty frustrated—his ship, the Winter’s Chill, along with the entire Imperial Navy, still has to circle half the continent to get back. By the time he arrives, it’ll probably be autumn.”

“…Let’s hope he remembers to bring the gift for Pea, not just complaints,” Gawain chuckled, shaking his head. Then, gazing out the window, he sighed softly, “The victorious soldiers returning home will really help ease the tension in society. Things will start to normalize. When that happens, the military will definitely need to step up and work with the propaganda department to guide public opinion. You’d better be ready.”

Philip’s face immediately fell. “Your Majesty, I… I’m really not good at that. Talking to reporters and making polite small talk isn’t my thing. Maybe you should wait for Byron to get back? He’s got thicker skin than me for this kind of thing…”

“Byron? Forget that he still has to circle half the continent to get back to North Harbor. Do you honestly think he’s the type to make ‘polite small talk’?” Gawain gave Philip a look. “It’s you. You’re perfect for it. Besides, it’s about time you put yourself out there a bit. Who knows? You might even catch the eye of a few ladies—you’re not getting any younger, you know…”

Philip: “…”

It was clear his personality really wasn’t cut out for bantering with Gawain.

Fortunately, Gawain was just teasing. Philip had plenty of other work to do anyway—the young general quickly made a somewhat embarrassed and awkward exit.

Gawain lingered by the window for a moment longer, until a familiar presence filled the room. He withdrew his gaze from outside and looked at the small figure landing gracefully from the shadowy rift.

“…Honestly, have you ever thought about traveling normally instead of relying on shadow powers all the time?” he asked, watching the dark aura around Amber gradually fade. “Maybe cut back on your exposure to shadow energy a bit…”

“I’ve thought about it,” Amber spread her hands helplessly. “But it doesn’t really help. You know my situation—I’m the ‘Construct 36’ created by the Gondor Empire. My very core is part of the Shadow Realm. Even when I’m just eating, sleeping, or breathing, I’m constantly connected to shadow energy. It’s not something a few less shadow steps can change.”

Amber was undoubtedly an expert in the shadow domain. Gawain knew his judgment couldn’t compare to her own experience, so he sighed in resignation and got down to business. “How are the responses from the other parties?”

“Most have confirmed. Emperor Rosetta of Typhon and Empress Belsethia are planning to attend in person. Other nations have promised to send representatives as soon as possible—basically, if the leader can come, they’re coming themselves. Some military and political heads are already on the Talash Plains—just like you, they’re leading their forces personally,” Amber said, picking up a nearby cup and taking several big gulps before continuing, “Feels like this will be a gathering no less grand than the 112 Conference…”

“A summit that will shape the world’s future,” Gawain smiled. “What’s meant to be will be.”

(End of chapter)