Chapter 1460: Two Proposals

A gentle breeze swept through the courtyard, the cool air invigorating the spirit.

The first snowfall of the winter had yet to arrive, but the weather mages who observed the skies predicted a light snow this morning. Nearby, the evergreen trees swayed softly in the wind, their branches rustling faintly. On the second-floor balcony opposite the garden, the Empire’s Grant Chancellor and the Princess stood quietly by the window, heads bowed. In the sunlit courtyard, Betty, dressed in her winter clothes, stood beside a handcart, a faint smile playing on her lips as the breeze brushed past her.

All of this unfolded within Enya’s “sight.” The tranquil, everyday scene seemed to stir something deep within her memory—ancient, faded impressions from a time long past. Perhaps it was a courtyard in Tal’Rond from a million years ago, or an afternoon during the early days of the dragon civilization nestled in the towering mountains. Or maybe it was just a fragment glimpsed in a devotee’s dream. She smiled softly, her voice gentle and serene. “Do you like days like this?”

“I do,” Betty answered without hesitation. “There’s no better day than this.”

“Yes… no better day than this. Today’s sunlight is the best we’ve had in a while,” Enya murmured, the golden shimmer of her shell catching the light, rippling like water where two glows met. “But soon it will snow. This sunshine might not last long.”

Far off on the horizon, a patch of leaden gray clouds had quietly gathered, slowly drifting toward the city. Just as the weather mages had predicted, the first snow of the winter was on its way.

Betty blinked, a little puzzled as she looked at Enya. “Are you saying something philosophical?”

Enya’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Miss Amber told me that when an important person suddenly shifts from talking about ordinary things to something else, especially with a hint of sighing, it usually means they’re saying something deep,” Betty replied seriously. “I didn’t quite understand it then, but I think you just said something like that.”

“…I was just commenting on the weather,” Enya laughed, her voice bright and cheerful. “Sunshine feels nice, but sometimes a cold breeze in the snow is refreshing too—just be careful not to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry!” Betty immediately patted her chest proudly. “I’m strong, and I haven’t been sick for two years straight. His Majesty says it’s because I’m well-nourished…”

Enya chuckled softly, her gaze drifting skyward. Then, as if sensing something, her attention fixed on a point near the constellation Frostsky. She seemed to hear a distant voice, and after a long, quiet moment, a single snowflake drifted silently from the sky.

It was the first snow of the winter in the fourth year of Cecil, arriving a little earlier than usual.

An urgent meeting invitation was sent from Cecil to all the Alliance nations.

During the recent Wasteland War, the astonishing power of modern communication technology and the “Alliance Integration” had proven the strength of the “Mage-Tech Era” ushered in by Gawain Cecil. Even the most isolated and backward small countries realized the changing times and the necessity of catching up. After the war, the most critical step in postwar reconstruction was to prioritize building communication systems based on modern mage-tech. Of course, given practical limitations, achieving full mage-net coverage in every country quickly was impossible, but at least each nation managed to connect their highest government offices to the Alliance’s mage-net backbone.

Compared to nationwide communication networks requiring massive infrastructure, linking each capital city to Cecil’s mage-net backbone via dedicated lines was feasible. Now, these “dedicated lines” connecting the Alliance’s leaders were about to be put to use.

On the eve of nightfall, Gawain arrived at the top-floor grand conference room of the Supreme Administrative Hall. The room was spacious, dominated by a massive circular table arranged precisely according to the seating plan for the Alliance summit. Most seats were empty, but each had a mage-net terminal in standby mode.

Gawain took his place and glanced at the documents before him—plans for the Mage Tide Observation Device. Then he checked the mechanical clock on the opposite wall: thirty seconds until the scheduled start.

He sat down. Moments later, a low hum and the faint clicks of rune triggers echoed throughout the room. Suddenly, flickering projections appeared one by one around the empty circular table. At first blurry, the images sharpened quickly with the help of extra computing power from the Imperial Data Center. Clear figures emerged from the magical illusions.

Among them were dozens of Alliance leaders, including Rosetta, Belsethia, and Wenna Whitebloom.

The once-empty room was now “filled” with people. Some were attending such a meeting for the first time, looking around in surprise. On their end, similar holograms had formed, creating an immersive conference experience. Though magical illusions were common in this world, using large-scale devices for remote meetings was still novel for many.

Those familiar with mage-net terminals and mage-tech showed calm composure. Several eyes turned to the three great empire leaders. After brief greetings, Gawain glanced at Melita Pernia, the Dragon Kingdom’s ambassador seated to his left, and rose to break the silence.

“First, since Tal’Rond’s communication lines are not yet complete, the Dragon Kingdom’s representative remains Ambassador Melita Pernia.

“Second, thank you all for responding to this urgent summons. Time is short, so let’s get straight to the point—we are here to discuss the plan for constructing the Mage Tide Observation Device.”

The holograms exchanged glances. The materials had already been sent to everyone’s desks, so the topic was no surprise. But the urgency left no time for the usual private consultations or discussions with advisors, which made many uncomfortable.

Yet, whether they liked it or not, the Mage Tide would not slow down for mortal schedules. In the face of this cold, relentless countdown, all old formalities and protocols had to yield to efficiency.

“We have reviewed the materials you sent,” Rosetta Augustus began. “From what we see, if we rely solely on existing technology to build the observation device from scratch, the success rate is very low. It would take a long time and enormous manpower and resources.”

“Yes,” Gawain nodded. “Considering the scale of the device and the ticking clock, we may not have the luxury of trial and error. So today, we must agree on a feasible draft that all nations can support—even if it requires later amendments. At least we must set the direction and immediately begin gathering materials.”

He paused, reflecting inwardly. He was fortunate the Alliance had emerged victorious from the Wasteland War. Though the conflict devastated the Gondor borderlands, it was an invaluable rehearsal. The Alliance learned how to operate as a whole and respond to a global crisis. The construction of the “Barrier Wall” itself provided precious experience—experience in building world wonders.

The Mage Tide Observation Device was essentially a world wonder on par with the Barrier Wall, with even greater technical challenges. Without the “forced training” of the war, facing this crisis with a loose, immature alliance would have been grim.

“There are two proposals,” Gawain continued after allowing time for thought and discussion. “The first is the traditional, conservative plan. We proceed step-by-step using existing technology, first building the outer ring of the observation device. During this, we’ll ‘stack’ a triggering focal point using our current energy tech. Based on our experience opening the Divine Gate at Treaty Fortress, a large array of mage-net energy stations and mana extraction towers can just meet the ignition threshold.

“This plan is controllable and based on proven technology. But its drawback is obvious—the technology barely meets the basic operational requirements. We can only guarantee the system will run briefly at best. What we need is a system that can operate stably for a long time. Whether it will work or not will be a matter of luck.

“The second proposal… I’m sure you’ve seen it. It’s radical but theoretically feasible.

“Using the Deep Blue Well as a foundation, we harness the planet’s abundant mana flows to power the triggering focal point. The advantage is clear—the Deep Blue Well’s power is more than enough. If successful, the system’s energy supply will be extremely stable, and the construction period will be greatly shortened since we skip building most of the energy infrastructure.

“Of course, this plan carries significant risks. The current Deep Blue Well isn’t large enough to meet our needs. We must extract mana from more rift conduits. Even the old Gondor Empire only built extraction stations on existing rifts. Artificially opening rift conduits is unprecedented and dangerous.

“According to theory and historical records from Gondor’s era, there are more exploitable rift conduits around the Deep Blue Well. Using Cecil Empire’s most advanced ‘supercritical accelerator’ to bombard the weak points where these rifts intersect with the material world, we can artificially open new mana vents—essentially creating ‘sub-wells’ around the Deep Blue Well. Theoretically… this process is controllable.”

Gawain exhaled softly, placing the documents on the table and resting his hands on its edge as he surveyed the assembly. “That’s all I have to say.”

As his words faded, low murmurs of discussion filled the room. Some participants turned toward seemingly empty spaces, speaking quietly to unseen advisors—experts standing nearby whose opinions were needed on specialized matters.

Gawain knew that both proposals were a bit… “risky.” Even the most decisive person would find it hard to choose at a moment like this, so he stayed silent and didn’t interrupt.

A few minutes later, a voice came from across the round table. King Audris of Highridge spoke up: “I want to know if the essence of the second plan is… bombing the Deep Blue Well? Although the document calls it a ‘precisely targeted demolition’…”

“This is a controlled bombing,” Gawain said with a stern face. He had expected this reaction—after all, he himself had worn a similar expression when Rebecca first presented the plan. “It’s like using explosive magic to blast through mountains and mine tunnels. Controlled, precise supercritical strikes can be used to ‘build’ things, though admittedly it sounds dangerous.”

“But I don’t think it just sounds dangerous,” King Audris said seriously, his one eye fixed on the document in his hands before looking up again. “I’m familiar with using explosive magic for quarrying, so I know that even with less complex operations, cliff collapses are inevitable accidents. And here, we’re talking about using the most powerful weapon in history to strike the Deep Blue Well at an extremely hazardous distance… From the plan’s description, if the ‘widening’ of the Deep Blue Well gets out of control, there’s absolutely no way to fix it.”

He shook his head. “I’m leaning toward the first plan. At least it’s more controllable during execution.”

“But the final result of the first plan is far from ideal,” no sooner had Audris finished than Wenna Whitebloom’s voice cut in from nearby. “If we exhaust all our time and resources building an observation device that ends up completely useless, wouldn’t it be better to do nothing at all—or at least take some risks with the Deep Blue Well?”

As soon as Wenna finished, other voices chimed in around the table: “The risks of plan two are still too great…” “We need a more cautious, comprehensive evaluation process, ideally with deeper investigation into the Deep Blue Well…” “Will building this observation device really make a difference? Are we rushing this decision?” “I’m afraid we don’t have that much time…”

The discussion ignited instantly. One by one, kings, leaders, federation governors, and emperors weighed in with their views and opinions. Yet, at the center of it all, Gawain remained silent.

His gaze shifted to Ophelia Norton, seated nearby.

Though “Veronica” was present in Cecil City, in such a formal setting, the Ophelia Matrix still chose to attend as “Ophelia Norton.”

At this moment, the true master of the Deep Blue Well remained silent from start to finish.

(End of chapter)