Chapter 1417: The Rationality Within the Sea Witch Worldview
At that moment, many eyes in the grand hall turned toward the central holographic projection, focusing on the figure seated on the golden throne—a doll-like, exquisitely crafted yet utterly lifeless “Ophelia Norton.” They gazed at this “last scion of the ancient Gondor Empire,” as if hoping to glean some hint of intent or emotion from the face of this long-deceased royal.
Meanwhile, others shifted their attention to the seats of the Typhon Empire and the Silver Empire, watching closely for any subtle change in expression from Rosetta Augustus and Belsethia Morningstar. Every delegate present knew that when it came to fundamental questions of order, the voices of the smaller nations barely carried weight. Only the three great empires’ stances could determine the final outcome.
For many representatives here, this was perhaps the most bewildering and unprecedented situation they had ever encountered: they were debating whether the ruins of an ancient empire’s capital—destroyed seven centuries ago—should be recognized as an independent city-state. And the last heir of that ancient empire still lived, watching the proceedings from deep underground, surrounded by a formidable iron legion…
A delegate from a small southwestern nation wiped the sweat from his brow and whispered to his aide, “Next time, they should send someone with less hair.”
The aide lowered his voice in resignation. “I never imagined it would come to this… From the start, we didn’t think we’d have any say in the Deep Blue Well, but the kingdom’s advisors all assumed the three empires would occupy and divide this magical source. Now, if the Deep Blue Well really becomes an independent city-state and a ‘member’ of the alliance, many of our plans will have to be redrawn.”
“Let’s wait and see,” the delegate sighed. “Proposals like this always take ages to discuss. At the very least, the three empires will debate it endlessly…”
Before he could finish, a faint buzzing sound echoed through the hall. After the prompt, the Silver Empress Belsethia’s voice came through clearly: “The Silver Empire agrees to this proposal. As an ally of the ancient Gondor Empire and a current council member of the alliance, we recognize and support the full sovereignty and neutral status of the Deep Blue Well.”
“Typhon agrees as well,” came the next prompt almost immediately after. Rosetta Augustus’s voice, deep and steady, filled the room. “Though the ancient Gondor nation has been utterly destroyed, the Deep Blue Well has endured as an independent region and underground city-state to this day. With the Norton royal heir still alive and effectively controlling the area, I believe that from legal, historical, current, and future alliance perspectives, the Deep Blue Well’s legitimacy as an independent city-state must be recognized, along with its neutral status.”
The delegates were momentarily stunned. Few had expected such a sensitive and complex issue to be resolved so swiftly. But soon, realization dawned: the independence and neutrality of the Deep Blue Well was never really a “proposal.” The three empires had clearly reached consensus long before this meeting.
When it came to matters that affected the alliance’s stability and the postwar order, the three empires had already negotiated behind closed doors—there was no need for prolonged debate in the hall.
In the central hologram, “Ophelia Norton” remained motionless on her golden throne, her hollow eyes betraying no emotion, not even the faintest breath. It was as if the events unfolding above ground were of no concern to her. The silence was broken only by Gawain’s voice: “The permanent council members have voted. We now proceed to the member states’ vote. If two-thirds oppose, the proposal will be rejected and reconsidered. If passed, the Deep Blue Well will begin the process of joining the alliance. Given Princess Ophelia Norton’s circumstances, this process will be carried out by Cecil on her behalf…”
The meeting lasted an entire day—but for the Tarash Conference, this was only the beginning.
The Sea Witches had successfully become new members of the alliance. The Deep Blue Well had joined as a permanently neutral city-state, officially recognized as the “successor to the ancient Gondor Empire.” But countless issues remained: Ophelia Norton announced plans for energy and arcane crystal exports; Typhon proposed a joint reclamation and reconstruction of the Gondor wastelands; the Silver Empire suggested establishing a multinational development entity; and representatives from Ogure, the Gaoling Kingdom, and others submitted numerous proposals on postwar economic recovery, food aid, and medical relief. By the end of the first day, the pile of proposals was mountainous.
Each item was urgent. Mishandling any could trigger a catastrophic crisis. These challenges would test every participant throughout the conference.
This victory itself became the alliance’s first major trial—an examination of whether the order Gawain Cecil had envisioned at the 112th Conference could truly function as intended.
“Problems are piling up, but once we solve them, the world will enter a period of rapid and stable development,” Gawain said, standing at the edge of the deck aboard the Dawn of Dust under the night sky. He spoke to Amber beside him. “Fortunately, things look promising so far: both Typhon and the Silver Empire agree on ‘joint development’ as the guiding principle. Proposals on medical aid, food assistance, and economic stimulus shouldn’t face major obstacles. That means every nation in the alliance can soon recover from the scars of war and find new opportunities in the Gondor wastelands. As long as domestic pressures are safely vented, the alliance won’t fall into chaos.”
“True, but only for now,” Amber said, resting her hands behind her head and leaning against the railing. She gazed at the beams of light piercing the night sky from the purification devices. “Joint development sounds wonderful, but even if the three empires cooperate fairly and all participants obey the rules, sooner or later, inequality and imbalance will emerge. Some country will always feel others are getting a bigger slice of the pie. You’ve said it yourself—there’s no such thing as a perfectly divisible cake.”
“Exactly—only for now,” Gawain chuckled, patting Amber’s head. “I’ve said it before: the alliance is like a group of hedgehogs huddling for warmth. We’re not saints embracing a shared ideal out of pure selflessness. We unite because we need to survive the winter. You can’t expect any endeavor to be problem-free forever. The key is to find new paths before problems spiral out of control, then wait for new challenges on those paths. That’s how our civilization has always progressed—step by step, feeling our way forward.”
“…That’s true,” Amber said, swatting Gawain’s hand away. “If the alliance really lasted forever, maybe we wouldn’t have needed it in the first place.”
Suddenly, footsteps approached from nearby. Gawain and Amber stopped talking and turned toward the sound. They saw Tyr, still in human form, appear on the deck, followed by six shadowy duplicates trailing behind her like a procession of reanimated corpses.
“Good evening!” Tyr cheerfully strolled up to Gawain. She seemed unusually clear-headed for this hour, enjoying the cool night breeze. The “Sea Kingdom’s ambassador” took a deep breath. “The air here is really nice—supposedly, it used to be so bad you could catch consumption just by breathing it in…”
“Sounds like you have lungs,” Gawain said, his expression twitching oddly as his gaze involuntarily flicked to the vacant faces of her duplicates. “And you brought the whole entourage? What were you thinking, splitting yourself into an entire delegation? What’s the point?”
“Isn’t it impressive?” Tyr said matter-of-factly. “The Sea Witches are a powerful nation. For our first appearance at the alliance meeting, we can’t just send one lonely representative, right? If the other delegates see only one person, they might think the Sea Kingdom’s fallen on hard times and can’t even send a proper envoy…”
Gawain’s mouth twitched again. He thought to himself that it might have been better if they’d sent no one at all. That Sea Witch queen really had guts, appointing Tyr as plenipotentiary ambassador. With her wild ideas and antics, she could keep the Sea Kingdom’s propaganda and diplomacy departments busy for half a year… Wait, did the Sea Witches even have propaganda or diplomatic departments?
He asked casually, “Do you have a propaganda or diplomatic department?”
Tyr immediately put her hands on her hips, answering confidently, “Nope.”
Gawain: “…?”
Even Amber was taken aback. “Wait, you don’t have a diplomatic department at all? And your queen just randomly decided to make you the plenipotentiary ambassador to represent the Sea Kingdom in the alliance? Don’t you think that’s a bit… off?”
“Of course not,” Tyr said, even more self-assured than before. “The last time we dealt with land civilizations was tens of thousands of years ago. Why bother setting up a diplomatic department now? To chat with fish? But maybe we’ll establish one now that we’ve joined the alliance…”
“…Don’t you also interact with local water elementals?” Gawain stared at the Sea Kingdom’s sole diplomat in millennia as if seeing a ghost. “You fight wars, then make peace. Surely both sides have diplomats to meet face to face?”
“The water elementals don’t have diplomats either. Who’s ever heard of an elemental world with a diplomatic department?” Tyr said, still hands on hips. “When we deal with them, it usually starts with fighting through elemental rifts, pushing all the way to the Boundless Sea. After a while, we start to understand each other. Then, suddenly, some troublemaking elemental lord shows up to surrender to our queen, and we accept. Sometimes a Sea Witch accidentally crosses the peace boundary or sucks up an elemental who’s signed a peace treaty. Then the queen goes over with her sisters to apologize…”
She paused, looking puzzled. “But for some reason, every time the elemental lord sees the queen and her sisters coming to apologize, they get all excited, shouting ‘Don’t come near!’ and then vanish without a trace…”
Gawain: “…”
“Elemental creatures really are… chaotic,” Amber muttered, covering her forehead. “But your explanation makes sense. So the Sea Witches are actually the first elemental beings in history to conduct diplomacy with ‘ordinary races.’ Does this mean the alliance has successfully broken into the elemental realm?”
“It’s your ‘history,’” Tyr laughed. “In our history, the Sea Witches have dealt with land races plenty of times—though that was a very long time ago.”
“Those terrestrial civilizations that once established diplomatic relations with you…” High King Taliesin started to say instinctively, but he quickly shook his head. “Forget it. It’s probably best if we don’t discuss that right now.”
“Yes, it’s better not to dwell on that—though if the opportunity ever arises, we sea witches would be delighted to have you visit Antavian,” Tyr smiled warmly at Taliesin. “You’re a very… unique human. The way you understand this world doesn’t even seem entirely human to me. It’s more like you’re some kind of… immortal, akin to us or the dragons. Perhaps you could grasp some of the things we’ve been through.”
“I’d very much look forward to that,” Taliesin said with a bright smile. Then his gaze flicked behind Tyr, curiosity getting the better of him. “By the way, I rarely see you maintain your human form for so long. Is it just easier to communicate with the other delegates during meetings that way?”
“No, not really,” Tyr replied, casually pointing to the six shadowy duplicates behind her. “I just… cut off my tail and made these little things.”
Taliesin blinked. “Wait, you can do that?!”
“Well, just cutting off the tail isn’t enough. I also pulled some water from the nearby clouds,” Tyr explained seriously. “I need to use the water from my true form to control these split-offs, but there isn’t enough water in my body alone, so I have to draw from the environment. We sea witches have always been a very… practical people.”
Taliesin was speechless.
Suddenly, he felt a bit unable to look at the word ‘practical’ without raising an eyebrow.
Fortunately, the increasingly strange topic didn’t drag on. Just as Tyr was about to continue explaining what ‘practicality’ means in the sea witches’ worldview, a pleasant humming sound reached their ears. An interactive device mounted on the edge of the deck began to pulse with rhythmic lights.
Taliesin turned toward the silvery metal cylinder. At its top, a projection crystal rose from its slot, and the voice of the mainframe echoed in his mind: “Incoming communication request from the Deep Blue Well underground fortress—Ophelia Norton wishes to speak with you.”
Taliesin instinctively rubbed his forehead. Looks like today was turning out to be quite a busy day.
But no matter what, chatting with that princess of Gondor should be a lot easier than debating ‘practicality in the sea witches’ worldview’ with a sea witch, right?
“Connect.”
(End of chapter)