Chapter 1478: Gawain’s Astonishing Hypothesis
Gawain’s sudden remark instantly shattered all of Amber’s train of thought. Even with her usually wild imagination and tough nerves, she never expected Gawain to come up with such a statement after pondering for so long. She was stunned for nearly ten seconds before glaring at him and asking, “Where on earth did that come from?”
“I know it sounds unbelievable—hell, I don’t even fully believe it myself,” Gawain said slowly, his mind racing as he laid out his thoughts. “But when this incident escalates to the level of a ‘suspected divine calamity’ and somehow involves that Violet Kingdom, I feel like even the most bizarre and far-fetched theories gain some weight. Especially since Modril got caught up in this, and he personally witnessed the Shadowborn emerging from black flames in that thick fog… that means this matter is inextricably linked to the Lady of the Night.”
Amber frowned. “True, no one expected the Violet Kingdom to have any connection to the Lady of the Night. But the fact that that great adventurer got involved—that’s the biggest clue tying them together. Still, even with that, you can’t seriously be jumping to the conclusion that the Violet Kingdom doesn’t even exist, right? That’s just too outlandish.”
“Being connected to the Lady of the Night means everything we thought we knew about the Violet Kingdom—based on mortal understanding—could be wrong. We have to use our wildest imagination to speculate what’s really going on,” Gawain said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, almost talking to himself. “Think about it… Has the Violet Kingdom ever produced or exported anything to Loren? I mean, aside from the traveling mages they send out to spread magical knowledge, has anything tangible ever come from Violet to the Alliance nations? Anything you can actually see or touch?”
Amber’s eyes widened slowly, her mouth opening a little in disbelief.
“We established some preliminary trade relations between North Harbor and a few border cities of the Violet Kingdom, but those trades have always been tightly controlled. We export goods, but what the Violet side provides are intangible ‘products’ like magical knowledge or mage apprenticeship services. The currency used is Cecil or Typhon coins, and the Violet Kingdom employs a strict system of exchange and circulation controls to ensure that nothing physical ever leaves the island.”
Gawain continued calmly, seemingly oblivious to Amber’s growing shock.
“For a long time, we assumed these strict restrictions were because the Violet Kingdom is isolationist by policy, that their authorities are extremely conservative about cross-border trade. After all, it’s a secretive, ancient land ruled by mages, so many people chalked up the many strange phenomena to ‘the quirks of a mage-ruled nation.’ But if you think carefully… there are too many unexplained aspects here.
“You have to understand, no matter how conservative a country is, no matter how strict the trade restrictions and border controls, it’s impossible to create a truly airtight barrier. There are always loopholes, always risk-takers, always people trying to break the rules to make a fortune. Merchants are endlessly creative and resourceful in this regard. But in all these years, have we ever seen any ‘local specialties’ from Violet on the market?
“Forget the official market—what about your intelligence channels, the black market, smugglers, or gray-area collectors? Has a single one of them ever managed to get their hands on any physical item that actually came from the Violet Island?”
Amber blinked, instinctively sensing a flaw in Gawain’s almost fantastical theory. She quickly interjected, “Wait, that can’t be right. You just admitted that the Violet Kingdom sends out traveling mages to spread magical knowledge. Aren’t those mages themselves ‘real’ physical beings? Their clothes, their supplies, the books they bring from Violet—aren’t those tangible items that have circulated into Loren?”
“But those traveling mages always return to Violet after a while. Everything they bring eventually goes back with them. When Violet mages served as royal advisors in Ansu, they even took all their magical tomes with them when they left, leaving behind only copies made locally. In fact, all existing Violet magical books are copies or reproductions, and all so-called ‘Violet magical artifacts’ are actually manufactured here on the Loren continent.”
Gawain folded his hands on the table, his gaze steady on Amber. “There’s no such thing as an impenetrable barrier in this world. If a barrier truly managed to keep everything inside for decades or even centuries without a single thing leaking out, it can only mean one thing—the barrier is empty.”
Amber hesitated, then said slowly, “So… are you suggesting that the entire Violet Kingdom is just a massive magical illusion? That everything there is fake? The City of a Thousand Towers, Palansanto, even the traveling mages themselves… But if the whole Violet Kingdom is an illusion, how could our agents sent there over the past two years have come back unharmed? Their food, their clothing—are you saying they survived on illusions?”
“Because when they’re inside Violet—while they remain on that island—they are part of the illusion,” Gawain said gravely. “We’re trapped by common sense, Amber. Illusions aren’t necessarily false. Reality doesn’t have a clear-cut boundary. Remember the ‘sandbox’ created by the Sleepless Cult?
“To us living in the ‘real world,’ everything inside the sandbox is just virtual data. But to the natives inside, their family, friends, and everyday objects are real. The sandbox can even spawn ‘higher narrators’—gods who can cross back into the real world. This shows that in our world, the line between reality and illusion is fluid.
“The Sleepless, mere mortals, accidentally created something like a sandbox. Imagine what a mysterious and powerful ancient god could do.”
Amber listened in stunned silence, then suddenly exclaimed, “Wait! No! I just remembered something—there’s one thing! It was brought out of the City of a Thousand Towers by a mage from the Violet Kingdom! And that mage never returned. The thing he brought stayed here with us!”
Gawain’s eyes lit up. “You mean… the Wild Mage’s notebook?!”
“Yes, that’s it! The Wild Mage who created the Ley Network was actually from Violet. His notebook counts as a ‘product’ of that island… Wait here, I’ll go get it!”
Amber spoke quickly, then vanished through a shadow rift that suddenly opened. Gawain watched her rush off like that, and once the study fell silent again, he scratched his cheek, starting to doubt whether his imagination had run too wild. Was it really wise to draw such a shocking conclusion based on these vague, mystical clues and past anomalies? Was he overthinking it?
Before he could dwell on it further, another shadow rift opened, interrupting his thoughts. Amber returned, holding a very old black leather notebook.
It was the Wild Mage’s notebook—today, countless copies, excerpts, and annotations have been made from it, and much of its knowledge has become part of the Imperial Academy’s curriculum. But the original has always been carefully preserved in the Royal Library, never lent out.
The notebook was undeniably real, but Amber’s expression was strange.
“What’s wrong?” Gawain asked, noticing her face.
Amber said nothing, placing the notebook before him.
A faint, mysterious glow shimmered on its surface—an otherworldly light unlike anything from this world.
Gawain blinked, instinctively opening the notebook. The faint glow filled every corner, every page, every edge, and even the gaps between the pages, as if the entire book was being suffused with this light. It looked like an ‘anomalous object’ that shouldn’t exist here, forcibly anchored in the real world. Yet Gawain felt something else.
It felt like a kind of protection… some force was desperately trying to keep this book here.
Guided by an inexplicable intuition, he flipped to the last page of this special notebook. In his memory, that page was blank—but now, words appeared, glowing faintly on the paper:
“In the end, the Wild Mage’s final trace left in the mortal world remains preserved here, proving that he truly existed.”
A cold sea breeze blew in, and small waves rippled against the hull of the “Cold Star.” The massive steel ship was unfazed by the wind and waves, standing like a steadfast fortress at sea, powered by a strong mechanical engine as it sailed steadily toward the mage kingdom across the strait.
Modril Wilde stood at the bow of the Cold Star, his gaze fixed on the coastline gradually coming into view. Victoria Wilde stood beside him, looking in the same direction.
This was a warship—not as powerful as the Cold Winter, but strong enough to handle any crisis in this strait. After learning about the strange changes in the Violet Kingdom, Victoria immediately sent a top-level alert to the capital and ordered this ship, which was on standby at North Harbor, to set sail.
If the Cold Winter hadn’t been undergoing a power spine overhaul, she might have even requested to send that ship as well…
“If this really is a ‘divine calamity’ level event, this ship won’t be enough,” Victoria said quietly.
“We’re not planning to fight gods with this ship,” Modril muttered. “Right now, Violet’s situation is still within the realm of ‘supernatural phenomena.’ Our first priority is to investigate.”
Victoria glanced at the old adventurer beside her, her expression serious. “Do we need to prepare for war with those Shadowborn? When you fought them, did you notice anything? Like signs of large-scale incursions into the real world?”
“I can’t say for sure. We were outnumbered and had to run every time we met,” Modril waved his hand dismissively. “But I don’t think you need to worry too much. The Shadowborn’s ‘invincibility’ only applies under certain conditions. When they enter the real world, they can be destroyed by cannon fire and magic. The thick fog I saw in the dreamwalking state was probably an overlapping zone between the Shadow Realm and the real world, which is why the Shadowborn appeared. But now, it looks like that fog has dissipated…”
Victoria gave a slight nod, then lifted her gaze toward the distant coastline, its contours sharply defined under the morning light. “Indeed, the thick fog that once blanketed the island has clearly lifted. But whether its disappearance has anything to do with the sunrise… well, that’s hard to say. After all, that thing… hmm?”
Her voice trailed off abruptly. She fixed her eyes on the far-off shore, and even her usually icy, unreadable expression softened, revealing a flicker of astonishment.
Though the coast was still far away, with her extraordinary vision—without even activating Eagle Eye or Mage’s Sight—she could make out many details clearly.
She pointed toward the horizon. “That… should be where Prandel City originally stood, right?”
Modir followed her finger, but all he saw was a barren, desolate shoreline—wild and untouched, as if no one had ever set foot there for centuries.
“You said Prandel City was swallowed by thick fog… and that black flames reduced its buildings to nothingness…” Victoria slowly turned to look at Modir, her eyes strange and intense. “But now, for the first time, I truly understand what you meant.”
“Sigh,” Modir spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. “From the start, I was just stating facts, but everyone thought I was speaking figuratively. An adventurer like me usually writes in straightforward, factual terms.”
The old mage appeared calm, but half of that composure was a carefully maintained facade.
Inside, he was just as stunned—because although he had seen visions of Prandel being swallowed by fog and consumed by black fire in his dreams, he never imagined such a large city could simply vanish without a trace! The entire coastline looked as if the city had never existed at all.
He had traveled this world for centuries, and he had never encountered anything like this.
“You don’t seem surprised at all,” Victoria’s voice came from beside him. The Duchess of the Northern Territories regarded her ancestor steadily. “You said before that you never actually witnessed Prandel after it was completely swallowed by the fog…”
Modir stroked his beard, his expression still composed. “I’ve wandered the continent for centuries. Though many things have faded from memory, this kind of anomaly isn’t enough to throw me off balance.”
As the family patriarch, he knew the importance of maintaining his image in front of his descendants.
Victoria clearly didn’t press further. Her calm gaze seemed to silently say, As expected of you. Then she turned her eyes back toward the violet coastline.
Footsteps approached, and the black-haired dragonborn maid, Maggie, stepped onto the deck.
“Prandel City has disappeared. The crew is awaiting your orders,” Maggie said, bowing her head. “Shall we proceed as planned?”
Victoria considered for a moment, then nodded. “Continue onward. Anchor four leagues offshore, then send out an exploration team.”
(End of chapter)