Chapter 1500: A Special Meeting Arrangement

How do you achieve what seems like an impossible miracle, using only limited technology and whatever resources are readily available?

The key is not to be intimidated by the idea of this “miracle” from the very start. The technical demands of the planetary shield and its staggering scale—far beyond common understanding—had indeed scared off many. When they learned that a defensive layer had to be erected to cover the entire globe, even figures like Rosetta and Belsethia were momentarily stunned. Their scholarly advisors immediately began searching for alternative plans that didn’t require a planet-wide shield. From the outset, the feasibility of the planetary shield was dismissed.

But it’s not their fault; it’s a perfectly normal reaction. Compared to them, someone like High Lord Gavain, whose imagination always soared beyond the atmosphere, was the true outlier—and he was surrounded by a group of similarly open-minded followers.

Thanks to this mindset that always looked beyond the atmosphere, Gavain and his free-thinking allies managed to piece together a plan to realize the planetary shield from a patchwork of scattered technologies and legacies: the star rings left by the Voyagers, the rune stones left by the Sentinels, mortal-built neural networks and relay arrays, the vast communication systems spanning land and sky, the “adult races” like dragons, sea serpents, and iron men who were free from the mental steel seals, and the blueprints sent by the Noyans.

Now, mortals had gathered every card they could get their hands on. It was time to play them.

Amid the vast sea of pure white flowers, the figures around the round table fell into a brief silence. They pondered, simulated, and tested the various possibilities Gavain had proposed, trying to find any potential flaws that could lead to failure—or pathways to success—in this massive, complex, and intricately linked plan. Several minutes passed before the first to break the silence was Heragor, the Golden Dragon.

He looked Gavain in the eye. “If—just if—the rune stone system left by the Sentinels fails to hold up the planetary shield, or if the broadcast array at the Sky Station can’t convert the planetary shield into the planetary barrier, how much room do we have to pivot? The planetary barrier plan is so different from the various refuge plans that the foundational infrastructure built for it seems difficult to repurpose in an emergency.”

“…That’s true,” Gavain nodded calmly. “The planetary barrier follows a path that can’t coexist with any refuge plan. While the refuge plans differ in scale and detail, they share some foundational work. If one refuge plan hits a major snag, the Alliance might still have time to activate another. But for the planetary barrier, whether it’s the ground control centers managing the rune stone nodes or the space-based broadcast arrays, none of that infrastructure can be used for refuges… That’s a fact we have to accept.”

He exhaled softly, resting his hands on the table as his gaze swept over everyone seated. His voice was low and solemn. “So once we choose to activate the planetary barrier, all the Alliance’s strength must focus on this one-way path. We need every resource, every unit of production, every research effort—every card in mortal hands. No nation can hold anything back. Only then can we maximize the chances of success… This is a single-choice question.”

Rosetta Augustus pondered, then quickly whispered to Windsor Mapel beside her. On the other side, Belsethia finished her exchange with Verania. The Silver Queen looked up at Gavain. “I need to discuss and simulate this further with the other Grant Astromancers. I can’t give an answer yet.”

“We’re the same,” Rosetta said after ending her conversation. “Some of these proposals exceed expectations. I need to consult more scholars back home.”

Gavain wasn’t surprised. This was a decision that would determine the world’s ultimate fate, and the technical details and societal implications far exceeded what any individual mind could handle. Even figures like the Silver Queen and Emperor Typhon couldn’t blindly support or reject any plan on a whim—probably not even the two dragon leaders.

After all, he never expected this secret meeting alone to settle everything. That wouldn’t be realistic. But the decision still needed to be made soon.

“We need to finalize our decision quickly,” Gavain nodded. “The countdown is drawing ever closer.”

“Yes, time is precious. So before the final plan is set, some preparatory work can begin,” Heragor said. “No matter which plan we choose, we’ll need large-scale neural networks, devices to ‘invert’ the anti-divine barriers, stockpiles of supplies, and the observation facility at Ancestor’s Peak… There’s a lot to do.”

Everyone agreed with the dragon leader’s assessment. Then Gavain announced the meeting’s end.

Belsethia and the others rose, their figures dissolving into streams of light and vanishing before Gavain’s eyes. But as only the two dragon leaders remained around the table with him, Gavain suddenly called out to Heragor and Balogor, who were about to log off.

“Wait.”

“Is there something else?” Heragor stopped, puzzled, looking at Gavain. “Do you have questions about the dragon proposals?”

“No. Someone wants to see you,” Gavain said, pausing as if communicating with another voice in his mind, then nodded slightly. “It might be sudden, but she says this is a rare opportunity.”

Heragor and Balogor exchanged glances, their expressions shifting subtly. Almost simultaneously, they sensed a sudden, completely different… “breeze” in this network space. Though invisible to the naked eye, the two ancient dragons keenly felt the environment shift as the breeze swept in from the distant edge of the flower sea. Some connections leading here seemed severed, while a special aura formed at the flower sea’s boundary. But Heragor’s attention had already shifted from the surroundings to a shimmering light slowly materializing in the air.

It was a pale golden veil, like an aurora descending from the sky. From within it emerged a tall, elegant figure, gradually becoming clear: a flowing golden gown, floor-length luxurious hair, calm dragon-golden eyes, and a face forever serene and graceful—someone Heragor knew all too well, a figure he once thought he’d never see again.

Both dragon leaders stiffened. They had vaguely anticipated this moment, but it proved that mere “mental preparation” was far from enough—reflexes, even for dragons, could not be overcome so easily.

Just as Heragor struggled to find words, Enya broke the silence. This “Senior Advisor of the Divine Council,” reborn from the human essence of the ancient Dragon God, smiled gently at her former priest.

“Relax. We’ve already ended the last era, haven’t we?”

“…Indeed,” Heragor said with a complex expression, standing there for a long moment before speaking. Then he quickly glanced at Gavain, a hint of resentment flickering in his eyes—as if the suddenness of this arrangement by their host had left even the Dragon King at a loss. “How should I address you now?”

“You can just call me Enya—though ‘Lady’ after it is fine,” she smiled lightly. “I don’t really care about such formalities.”

As she spoke, the golden-haired lady conjured a high-backed chair beside Gavain and sat down casually. Then, with a faint, teasing smile, she looked at Heragor and Balogor across the table. “Are you two going to stand all the time?”

The two ancient dragons exchanged a glance, then awkwardly took seats opposite her. A strange, unprecedented feeling churned in their ancient hearts. This situation… was truly unexpected.

“Looks like my sudden whim has caused you trouble,” Enya said, clearly noticing their discomfort. “But don’t overthink it. I just wanted… to see you.”

“…Is this safe?” Balogor finally asked. “Can you meet directly with special dragons like me and Heragor now?”

“I’m a Senior Advisor of the Divine Council. I’m confident in my judgment on these matters—and there are extra security measures here. I trust these new technologies,” Enya replied, never taking her eyes off the two dragon leaders. “Balogor… in the past million years, I’ve rarely had the chance to see you.”

“…I’ve spent most of that time outside Talrond,” the Dragonblood Duke said slowly. “Only returning inside the Great Shield when the magical tides come—and at those times, you usually had no spare attention for other matters.”

“I know. The Holy Dragon Principality, your ‘grand plan,’” Enya smiled, her gaze shifting between Balogor and Heragor. “An astonishing plan.”

Heragor instinctively spoke up. “Looking back, many of our early designs were immature…”

“There are so many great things in this world that start from ‘immaturity.’ On a cosmic scale, perhaps our planet is still far from mature… You’ve already amazed me,” Enya shook her head. “I’ve long awaited an opportunity to have a proper… ‘conversation’ with you. Heragor, it’s incredible—you stood by me for 1.87 million years, yet the total time you looked me in the eye doesn’t compare to this moment.”

“…Back then, looking you in the eye was a quick way to lose one’s life,” Heragor finally relaxed a bit, smiling wryly. “But I agree with you. I’ve also looked forward to a chance to talk properly with you. For that, we should thank His Majesty Gavain Cecil—he laid the foundation for everything today.”

Enya turned to Gavain, her expression serious as she nodded slightly. “I do owe you thanks… Come to my room after we return to the real world. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Gavain, who had planned to just sit nearby and eavesdrop on the gossip, was caught off guard to be pulled into the conversation—especially one that took such a frightening turn. He almost blurted out, “That’s biting the hand that feeds you,” but managed to control his expression with great effort, nodding stiffly. “…We’ll see.”

“Don’t worry, just tea,” Enya said, reading his expression perfectly. She smiled brightly. “I learned how to brew tea from Betty. I’m quite confident.”

Gavain breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like he’d dodged a bullet. Heragor and Balogor looked a bit dazed, probably surprised by the dynamic between Gavain and Enya. But Enya quickly shifted the topic, turning to Heragor. “Where are you now?”

“Talrond, New Agondor City,” Hraggor replied. “We built a new city beside the ruins of the old one… not as grand as before, but sturdy and secure.”

“So it really is in Talrond…” Enya mused thoughtfully. “Is it easy to connect to the neural network over there?”

“Before, real-time communication with the Loren Continent was impossible. After losing the Omega system, even maintaining local communications was a huge challenge,” Hraggor shook his head. “But thanks to the Gorgon platform provided by Cecil’s side, we set up anti-gravity communication stations in the sky to enable cross-sea transmissions. Now, New Agondor and several cities along the southeastern coast have neural network access points—over seventy percent of our people are concentrated in these hubs.”

“The Gorgon platform… I’ve heard about that,” Enya said thoughtfully, then glanced at Gawain. “Must have made quite a profit, huh?”

Gawain’s expression was completely unbothered. “Everything’s transparently priced, and the value’s more than worth it. The first emergency communication platform was practically sold at a steep discount.”

“I don’t buy it. Hetty was over the moon when she saw the reports,” Enya said, her golden eyes fixed steadily on Gawain before she gestured toward Hraggor and Balogor. “Take good care of them—they’re still going through a lot right now…”

Gawain: “…”

Hraggor & Balogor: “…”

A strange, overwhelming sense of helplessness suddenly welled up inside Gawain. It felt like having a fiercely protective mother show up in the middle of a business meeting—awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Fortunately, Enya didn’t dwell on the topic. Her gaze returned to Hraggor, as if cherishing the brief moment, eager to ask everything on her mind before moving on quickly. “Only you two came this time… what about Andal?”

“He’s leading the construction project in the polluted development zone of Talrond now, very busy,” Hraggor answered. “Also, the neural implants he has left some aftereffects, so he’s… not very comfortable with the neural network.”

“Is that so? His body’s okay, right?” Enya frowned. “Black dragons have shorter lifespans compared to other dragons, but he’s lived far longer than most… it’s always been those implants keeping him going…”

“No need to worry. He’s found a new goal to strive for, and his health is quite good,” Hraggor smiled faintly. “Besides, the implants he uses don’t rely on the Omega system and still function well. I expect he’ll live as long as Balogor and me.”

(End of chapter)