Chapter 1463: The Night Wind Grows Chill

As Mylmina’s words fell, a hush settled over the entire conference hall. No one had anticipated this path—entrusting the Magic Goddess herself to transform the Ancestor’s Peak, even to become the core of the observation device. This went far beyond any previous contingency plan, forcing even High Lord Gawain to reconsider the possibility from scratch.

After several minutes of silence, a deep, steady voice finally broke the stillness. It was Morton Forgefire, King of the Dwarves—an old dwarf as solid as rock, with dark red beard and hair, his hands braced firmly on the table as his sharp eyes fixed on Mylmina.

“But there’s a problem, my lady,” Morton said. “If you intervene, won’t that reconnect the Magic Goddess’s divine throne with the mortal world?”

Mylmina met the dwarf king’s gaze calmly, a faint smile visible beneath her veil. “Has anyone prayed for the Magic Goddess to descend to the mortal realm during this entire process?”

“Uh… no, I don’t believe so,” Morton stroked his beard, shaking his head slightly. “And even if there were signs of such prayers, the Tribunal’s judgment clerics would extinguish them before they could take root.”

“Then my actions are not driven by mortal prayers,” Mylmina said softly. “This is my free will—an act taken spontaneously by a powerful mage named Mylmina. It has nothing to do with faith or collective thought currents. And I must correct you, Morton: this is not ‘intervention.’ When the fate of this world hangs in the balance, gods are never mere bystanders. You are saving the world you live in, and I am saving the world I live in.”

Her final words clearly struck a chord with everyone present. Expressions shifted subtly, nods of realization spreading as they pondered the truth—that the “Magic Goddess” before them was not just a once-exalted deity, but a living being sharing the same world as they did.

This was no longer a tale of gods saving mortals. It was a joint rescue—gods and mortals alike fighting for survival.

“I’ll say a few words,” Gawain’s deep voice cut through the quiet. “First, the Divine Authority Council has confirmed that Lady Mylmina’s connection to the mortal thought currents has been completely severed. So, with proper safeguards, her activity in the mortal realm poses no problem. We’ve already tested this.

“Second, everyone here should be familiar with the Council’s research: the essence of a ‘god’ is a reflection of mortal thought currents. In short, whether a god and mortals form a mental bond depends not on what the god does, but on what mortals believe the god does. That’s why the Council’s ‘information lockdown’ on senior advisors is really about preventing the public from reconstructing those thought currents—not about controlling the advisors themselves.

“This is something we all understand, but without reminders, it’s easy to fall into the trap of misunderstanding the Council’s priorities.

“So Lady Mylmina’s involvement in the Ancestor’s Peak project is not the issue. The real challenge lies in managing public opinion, controlling information, and educating and guiding the relevant populations.

“Finally, I want to say this: sooner or later, we must face the ‘Final Order’ of god-human relations. The Council’s work has a clear ultimate goal and a defined path. As I mentioned in the last internal memo, our aim is not to eliminate gods, nor to deny the concept of divinity. That’s the natural order of this world. The Council’s mission has always been to respect and align with natural law, not oppose it.

“Perhaps now is the moment to take our first step toward that ‘Final Order.’ It’s arriving earlier than we hoped, not as smoothly or orderly as we’d like, but since it’s here, we must prepare ourselves.”

Gawain exhaled softly, noticing many delegates lost in thought. Nearby, familiar figures like Rosetta and Belsethia nodded slightly, catching his gaze and returning it with approval—even Ophelia Norton was among them.

“Then… let this be our provisional final plan,” Rosetta Augustus’s voice broke the silence after a brief pause. “We first complete exploration and assessment of the Ancestor’s Peak, with Lady Mylmina leading. If conditions are suitable, technicians will quickly follow up, adjusting and designing the ‘Magic Tide Observation Device’ sent by the Noyans based on the peak’s actual state. If not, we’ll promptly seek alternatives.”

He glanced at Gawain and nodded. “In any case, the most important thing is to act.”

“This will be an enormous undertaking,” Gawain agreed, taking the floor. “Building the ‘Excitation Focus’ alone will rival the scale of the two barrier walls cutting through the Gondor Wastelands. Even with Lady Mylmina’s help, constructing the surrounding facilities will be a daunting challenge.”

“The good news is, the Alliance recently conducted ‘military drills.’ The wasteland barrier project gave us invaluable experience. We now have the equipment, personnel, and project management teams needed for such a massive engineering effort. We can start quickly.”

His gaze drifted back to the technical documents before him, the complex blueprint of the Magic Tide Observation Device coming into focus.

Gradually, the schematic transformed in his mind’s eye—

The towering sacred mountain of Ogure, the vast plains and hills surrounding it, a thoroughly transformed Ancestor’s Peak, and the massive sensor array built around it.

A miracle forged by the power of the entire world.

The meeting stretched late into the night. When the leaders’ discussions finally ended, Cecil City was nearing midnight.

In this early winter chill, the constellation Frost Throne climbed high in the sky, a few cold stars twinkling sharply. Through the wide glass windows, the cold light felt especially biting.

One by one, the holographic projections around the table flickered off. Weary delegates rose and, after questioning the seats of the three permanent council nations, gradually dispersed into the night.

At last, only one hologram remained—Silver Empress Belsethia Morningstar sat quietly in her place. When the other remote leaders went offline, she finally spoke.

“About this ‘Final Order’ you mentioned… are we truly ready to take that step?”

Gawain smiled faintly. “Do you want the truth, or a comforting lie?”

Belsethia rubbed her forehead. “What do you think?”

“Alright, the truth is… I’m not sure. No one can be,” Gawain sighed, candid. “Many things in this world can be measured, but ‘thought currents’ are not one of them. They are an inherently chaotic system, impossible to predict precisely at any moment. But unpredictability doesn’t mean there’s no general direction.

“We’re not fully prepared to embrace the ‘Final Order.’ Aside from a few senior advisors, many ‘gods’ still occupy their thrones. These deities remain on the other side of the chains. No matter how much the Council has weakened those chains, and whether some gods have broken partial restraints, the fact remains that churches worldwide still receive divine magic and oracles. We’re still far from that ultimate goal.

“But in certain areas, the ‘Final Order’ is already taking root—mainly among a few senior advisors. Though it’s not yet ready for public disclosure, the ‘restricted social experiments’ conducted in Cecil have yielded promising results in their contact with the mortal world.”

“‘Restricted social experiments’?” Belsethia’s curiosity piqued. “I’m intrigued.”

Gawain glanced at her, then suddenly shifted topics. “…Do you watch Shadow Plays?”

“Shadow Plays?” Belsethia frowned. “I watch a little when I have time, but what does that have to do with the ‘restricted social experiments’ you mentioned?”

“If you’re interested, you can check out a recent documentary jointly produced by Cecil’s Propaganda Department, the Divine Authority Council, and Filmworks Studios. It’s available on the neural network,” Gawain smiled. “You might be pleasantly surprised.”

Belsethia blinked, then nodded with some puzzlement. “Alright… I’ll take a look.”

Gawain chuckled and slowly stood. After a brief silence, he spoke softly.

“Blind worship and blind rejection are essentially the same. To deny the divine aspect of our world is just as foolish and superstitious as unquestioning faith. In fact, if it comes to that extreme, it wouldn’t be impossible to create a ‘godless god.’ If that happens, and the Council itself becomes the breeding ground for new gods, it could be as catastrophic as the ‘Inverse Tide’ spawned by the Forerunner Legacy.

“Honestly, I don’t want to see a second ‘Inverse Tide.’”

“Going from one extreme to another is the most common mistake mortals make,” Belsethia said, rising as well. She exhaled softly, her form gradually fading in the air. “I will remember your words today.”

With that, her hologram finally went offline.

But Gawain was not alone in the chamber—besides Rebecca, the two plenipotentiary ambassadors, Tyr and Melita, remained.

Since the Talrond communication network was incomplete and contact with Antavian was complicated, these two ambassadors attended the meeting in person.

Melita rose from her chair, smoothing her dress as she approached Gawain.

“About that flash of light when the Noyan observer ship disintegrated… was it real?”

“Do you think I staged a show just to push the Magic Tide Observation Device project?” Gawain smiled at the blue dragon lady. “I don’t have the power to create a flash visible across the entire continent. And with so many astrologers in the world, it’s not hard to tell whether that ‘bright star’ was an atmospheric illusion or a flash in space.”

“I don’t doubt the flash’s authenticity,” Melita said, shaking her head with a smile. “But your ability to improvise on the spot is impressive. Of course, Talrond supports the Magic Tide Observation project, and I have no objections to the ‘Plan Three.’ I’m just a bit curious on a personal level…”

“The news is true,” Amber’s figure slowly materialized from the air beside Gawain. She looked directly into Melita’s eyes. “Lady Enya has captured the power contained within that flash of light—because it holds the divine power of an Outer God, it was able to travel so far. After all… it took even the light itself twenty-two days to make the journey from there to here.”

Upon hearing the source of the news, Melita’s expression shifted slightly before settling into silence.

“Over a century ago, the Noyans identified this planet as the best observation point. For the past 126 years, their observation ship has been making its way this way. On a scale of four light-years, that ship is practically at its destination… It’s truly a pity,” Gawain shook his head. “From the perspective of one of the Alliance leaders, the arrival of an Outer God on this planet is a deeply unsettling and unwelcome event. But personally… I had hoped that observer would succeed.”

“…It’s meaningless to say that now.” Melita sighed softly and looked out the window.

Outside, the night was as dark as ink. The few stars of the constellation Frostsky shone cold and distant. The flash of light had long since vanished into the sea of stars.

On this vast, cold astronomical scale, the radiance left by the Outer God had only illuminated the night sky for a few seconds. And in those few seconds, how many civilizations, even farther and deeper among the stars, were quietly extinguished by the relentless advance of the magical tide—unable even to release a single flicker of light?

Starlight spilled into the tranquil courtyard. The night breeze rustled through flowerbeds and evergreen shrubs, carrying a soft, distant rustling. A golden egg, wrapped in a quilt, lay quietly in a cart, maintaining a long, peaceful silence under the stars.

Footsteps approached from nearby, cautious and tentative.

A gentle voice came from within the golden egg: “It’s so late, Little Betty, are you still awake?”

“I heard you were still out here in the courtyard,” Betty rubbed her eyes, looking at the golden egg that had been outside all day. “And you even sent the maid who was supposed to keep watch home…”

“I’m just passing the time. I have endless time to do so—there’s no need to drag you out here to catch the cold with me,” Enya said softly. “You don’t need to worry about me so much, Little Betty.”

“That won’t do,” Betty immediately shook her head. “I have to take care of you.”

The golden egg was silent for a moment, then a resigned, light laugh came from within.

“…Have you been watching the sky here all this time?” Betty asked curiously. “Is there something up there?”

“There are many, many things… worth remembering, worth admiring, worth revering, worth praising. Everything you can imagine exists among the stars.”

Betty shook her head. “…I don’t understand.”

Enya’s voice was gentle. “You don’t have to. All beings know only so much. Even I only learned today that the ‘voices’ carried by the currents of thought travel just a bit faster than light…”

Betty thought for a moment and honestly shook her head again. “…Still don’t understand.”

“Hahaha…” Enya couldn’t help but laugh, her mood suddenly lightening. “It’s okay not to understand. You just need to live happily. Let’s go back, Little Betty—the night breeze is getting chilly.”

“All right!”

(End of chapter)