Chapter 1430: On High Alert

Perhaps it was the overwhelming shock to their worldview brought on by the sudden prospect of communicating with an alien civilization, or maybe it was the constraints of their old ways of thinking and limited knowledge that held back Rosetta and Belsethia. They seemed never to have seriously considered the possibilities that Gawain had raised. Yet that didn’t mean they lacked the intellect to grasp them. Once the fog clouding their minds was pierced by a single insightful remark, they quickly caught on to the suspicious nature of the situation.

True, they didn’t fully understand technologies like faster-than-light communication, ultra-precise deep-space detection, or interstellar travel—concepts far beyond their usual frame of reference. But even if the technical details eluded them, the underlying principles were simple and universal. They could follow the conversation between Gawain, Enya, and Myrmyna, and think critically within their own understanding. The specifics might be complex, but the logic behind the technology was straightforward and interconnected.

Technological progress follows certain laws. A civilization that develops normally and healthily will have a coherent, traceable technological path. Behind any specific technological achievement lies a complete set of foundational theories and derivative products. For example, if a people know how to smelt metal, they must understand what a furnace is—or at least have something that serves the same function. If they don’t, then their smelting technique is suspect.

All signs pointed to the sender civilization being highly questionable in this regard—though, at this stage, it was only “suspect.”

“These are just our hypotheses,” Gawain added slowly, noticing the thoughtful expressions around the round table. “After all, we don’t know what kind of civilization is on the other side, nor the exact principles behind their faster-than-light communication devices. We can only speculate based on what we know. Maybe their equipment is malfunctioning, or they’re preoccupied with something else… When facing mysteries on an astronomical scale, we can’t jump to conclusions.”

“But one thing is certain: we must respond to the signal,” Rosetta said, twisting the ruby ring on his finger—a habitual gesture when deep in thought. “They already know we exist. And it seems they don’t have the means to instantly reach our planet. So we need to seize a bit of initiative—even if it’s just a bluff.”

“This will require the aid of the Sea Witches,” Belsethia looked toward Gawain. “Only they possess that kind of faster-than-light communication device. Are they willing to help?”

“No worries there,” Gawain nodded. “When I learned about their repair progress, I discussed it with the Sea Witch ambassador. They’re willing to lend us their communication array. But… the device isn’t in great shape. It can only be used briefly. It might suffice for a simple response, but it can’t handle prolonged communication. If we want to establish real contact with ‘them,’ we’ll have to fully repair it.”

“Full repair…” Rosetta frowned. “That’s beyond the capabilities of any nation on the continent. The dragons… well, even they probably can’t help. The Sea Witches’ technology is very unique.”

Gawain’s tone grew serious. “A full restoration will take time. For now, we start with what we can do. The immediate priority is to get all the ‘Star Decoders’ teams working together, consolidating every piece of information we have on the alien signal into one place. We need an efficient, barrier-free special department directly accountable to the Alliance leadership to handle this ‘alien civilization’ matter. We must draft the initial contact message and encode it as soon as possible—ideally within days, the sooner the better.”

“Additionally, I’ll coordinate with the Sea Witches to prepare their faster-than-light communication array, and alert all listening stations to be ready to receive any feedback from ‘them’…”

“Also,” Rosetta tapped the table lightly, “we need to prepare not just for sending a response, but for what comes after. We can’t be sure if our reply will have any effect, but our military and government must be ready. In the worst case, something might arrive through this ‘call across the stars’—maybe a fleet, as you said, or something else entirely. Even if none of that happens, we must prevent leaks that could cause chaos and panic.”

“We also need to prepare our scholars—experts from every field,” Belsethia added. “Linguists, astrologers, mages, specialists in logic and negotiation… No one knows what ‘they’ want to discuss. Even if they mean no harm, communication itself will be a huge challenge.”

Enya watched quietly from the side. This former “Pinnacle of the Gods” seemed deep in thought. She observed the leaders of the three greatest empires on this world responding to a single “conversation” with an almost warlike vigilance. Yet she didn’t think their caution was excessive. She knew full well that what was about to unfold warranted such care.

This was a situation even the gods had never faced—mortals had yet to step into the stars, but the stars were already reaching out to them.

“There’s another party that must act—the Divine Council,” Enya finally spoke during a pause in the discussion. “Don’t underestimate the impact this will have on the gods.”

Her words instantly tensed everyone present.

Gawain met her gaze. “You mean that communicating with this alien signal might cause the gods to ‘lose control’?”

“Not quite lose control,” Enya replied. “From my experience, the ‘Final Rebellion’ only occurs when two strict conditions are met: an undeniable transgression, and direct contact between a mortal individual and an external system. In other words, as long as the faith system can rationalize the event—allowing the gods to ‘deceive themselves’—the Final Rebellion won’t be triggered. Under this premise, talking to an alien civilization or simply looking up at the sky are both indirect contacts that can be denied.”

She shared these once closely guarded secrets of the gods with Gawain and the others. Both Belsethia and Rosetta listened intently.

“But even if it doesn’t trigger the Final Rebellion, this will be the closest we’ve ever come to the boundary,” Enya continued. “Information from outside the closed system, a gaze cast outward, contact with an ‘alien’ beyond all known thought systems—this is a challenge for every god still in their seat. And we all know some gods in this era of civilization are already in a fragile state…”

Suddenly, Gawain recalled what he had seen while surveying the divine realms aboard the Sentinel cruiser—particularly over the domain of the Three Gods of Abundance.

Indeed, some gods were in poor condition. Maybe humanity’s simple act of chatting with aliens could drive some of them mad…

“As you respond to the signal and establish real ‘communication,’ some gods may begin to act strangely,” Enya said slowly, imparting her hard-earned wisdom. “The Divine Council must closely monitor all religious sects, watching for signs of corruption, delusion, or confusion among believers. There may be abnormal ‘oracles,’ priests who suddenly change temperament, or self-proclaimed ‘saints’ claiming divine revelation. These are signs a god is about to lose control.”

“In such cases, I recommend immediately reducing contact with the alien civilization, conducting secondary or higher-level spiritual purifications on project participants, isolating and monitoring affected clergy, and applying Deep Sea Runes for calming. If conditions permit… I even suggest placing all personnel involved in ‘interstellar communication,’ and the entire research facility, within anti-divine barriers. These individuals could become ‘abnormal entities’ that lure gods into madness. The anti-divine barrier has been proven effective in temporarily severing the link between gods and mortals.”

“Oh, I can vouch for that,” Myrmyna interjected. “I can even chat with mortals while inside the barrier without worrying about contamination.”

She quickly added to Gawain, “I’m registered, by the way.”

“Using anti-divine barriers to keep project members out of the gods’ sight, reducing contamination…” Gawain nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at Enya. “These are invaluable suggestions. I didn’t realize you were so familiar with the Divine Council’s technologies.”

“You invited me to be a senior advisor to the Divine Council—I’m not here to be a figurehead,” Enya smiled gently. “As the only individual who has survived two Final Rebellions, I consider myself experienced in divine matters. Now, that experience can be put to good use.”

“Of course, I hope we never have to use it…” Amon muttered. “Alright, it seems we’ve covered everything. Anything else?”

Gawain scanned the faces around the table. After a moment, he nodded lightly. “Looks like no one has anything to add. Then let’s adjourn for now and begin executing the plan. If anything happens, contact me immediately through this ‘encrypted space.’ That’s all.”

Rosetta gave a slight nod. The ever-serious ruler of Typhon stood. “I hope today we made the right choice.”

His figure gradually faded into the air.

Next, the Silver Queen Belsethia rose, offering Gawain a faint smile. “Our world hasn’t been very peaceful these past years.”

One by one, the figures rose from the table and slowly vanished. Finally, only Gawain remained amid the vast white sea of flowers. A gentle breeze stirred nearby, the rustling of petals and leaves whispering softly. A presence seemed to materialize out of nowhere behind him. He turned to see Beltera standing quietly.

“I remember not long ago, you only had to consider the war of a single kingdom,” Beltera murmured. “Back then, the greatest threats were monsters sealed behind high walls and dark cultists like the End of All Things… But suddenly, the problems you face have grown so vast, beyond what anyone can comprehend.”

Gawain shook his head. “The Chaos Tide and the gods… The problems we face have never really changed. It’s just that with broader vision, we finally see the full shape of this monstrous beast.”

“Sometimes I can’t help but recall a saying—ignorance is a gift to all beings. If ignorant, people don’t have to know how terrifying this beast truly is. They only need to treat its faintest breath as the greatest challenge, without worrying about gods losing control, the ever-looming Chaos Tide, or the countless unknown threats lurking in the stars. Just a shield and a sword, and they can sleep peacefully.”

“But the world doesn’t stop turning just because people are ignorant… Well, maybe the gods would, but unfortunately, mortals face far more than just the gods,” Gawain sighed softly. “Even if we ignore the crises already on our planet, countless stars still shine above us.”

“I think I understand why you often gaze up at the stars,” Beltira said with a smile, shaking her head gently. “It turns out our future truly lies among them.” Then, as if suddenly hearing something, her expression shifted slightly. “Brother, there’s a communication request coming in from the Deep Blue Well… it’s marked high priority.”

“From Ophelia’s side?” Gawain was a bit surprised. He didn’t understand why Ophelia would suddenly reach out through the neural network. “Why wouldn’t she come directly as Veronica…? Never mind, connect it. It must be something urgent.”

“Yes, the communication is being transferred into an encrypted channel.”

Beltira lowered her head slightly as she spoke. Then, an invisible breeze swept across the vast flower field. The next moment, Gawain saw an unusual scene materialize among the blossoms—a translucent, open chamber appeared before him. It looked like a place deep within the Deep Blue Well’s underground fortress. Neatly arranged in the center were ancient devices emitting a faint blue glow, while countless shimmering streams of light drifted above them like a swarm of fireflies.

Between these devices stood the figure of Ophelia Norton, embodied in the exact same “puppet” form as the historical Ophelia Norton herself. She seemed to be personally inspecting her “domain.”

“Ophelia,” Gawain said, “I didn’t expect you to contact me like this. What’s going on?”

The figure, who appeared to be examining the equipment, turned around. Her voice was gentle and familiar as it reached Gawain’s ears. “This is the oldest storage array within the Deep Blue Well. After the chaotic magical energies in the wasteland settled, some of these devices resumed functioning. I’ve discovered something… unusual here.”

Gawain frowned slightly. “Unusual?”

“Some magical fluctuation readings,” Ophelia said seriously. “They were recorded automatically seven hundred years ago. I suspect… the Deep Blue Well captured the ‘essence’ of the magical tide itself, storing it as data.”

(End of chapter)