Chapter 1597: Extra — Fragment — After the Dust Settles

A warm breeze began to sweep across the plains. Since the rain three days ago, the weather had grown steadily milder, and the lush vegetation had dyed the fertile lands surrounding the city a vibrant green—a green that had been long awaited.

Wickliffe bent down, quietly studying the patch of green sprouting from the soil. After a few seconds, he carefully extended a finger from his alloy-crafted mechanical limb and gently touched the seemingly fragile blade of grass before him. At last, a faint smile appeared on his face, the fine wrinkles smoothing into a graceful arc.

“…The influence of the deep blue magic has finally faded completely,” he said, lifting his gaze to Camilla standing beside him. “The ecosystem around the Ancestor’s Peak might fully recover to its former state within this year.”

Camilla didn’t respond immediately. The resolute woman was staring off into the distance, where towering spire-like structures and ring-shaped formations undulated along the horizon of the plains, resembling a giant serpent coiled low to the ground.

Only when Wickliffe spoke again did she snap back to attention. “Huh? What did you say?”

“I said the local ecosystem is recovering—just as the ecological experts have recently analyzed,” the human king frowned. “Weren’t you the one who insisted on dragging me out here for an inspection? Why are you spacing out now?”

Camilla’s fluffy tail flicked through the air in a half-circle, her expression calm. “I’m inspecting too. Have you noticed the sensor array ring over there? The ruby groves the Druids planted three years ago are finally taking shape.”

Following her gaze, Wickliffe saw the once sparse artificial forest now thick and thriving. Yet his attention lingered more on the towering sensor towers and the massive ring structures.

Those colossal machines, once humming with energy day and night, vigilantly watching the stars, had now fallen silent—standing like mute giants on the earth, overlooking this peaceful and flourishing kingdom.

They had been silent for five years. The great calamity that once loomed over all living beings had ended five years ago.

And only today, five years later, had the last patch of land near Ancestor’s Peak, tainted by the deep blue magic, finally been restored to life.

Along with the slow healing of the land, the Ogure tribe’s society—once pushed to the brink—had begun to stabilize: social order, food production, and economic activity all recovering.

“The Alliance has fulfilled its promise,” Camilla said softly. “The hardest days are finally behind us.”

“Yes, the hardest days are behind us—though you said the same thing when the barrier first went up,” Wickliffe glanced sideways at the chieftain beside him. “But as it turned out, surviving under the homeworld’s barrier was only the beginning…”

“No one expected the observation devices to have such an impact,” Camilla shrugged. “Thankfully, Lady Tower worked overtime the entire time, stabilizing the energy flows deep within Ancestor’s Peak over these years.”

“After all, it was built in a rush. We should be grateful it even functions properly,” Wickliffe said, pulling out his pipe and lighting it with his mechanical fingers. Then, as if remembering something, he added, “By the way, where’s Wenna? I didn’t see her this morning.”

“Meriel sent a letter yesterday…”

“Enough, you don’t have to say more,” Wickliffe’s pipe trembled in his hand, his face twitching. “I thought the crate delivered to Saint Helm City yesterday was engineering parts ordered by Stella… So Wenna won’t attend the development meeting tomorrow?”

“She should still attend. She knows what’s important, but…” Camilla sighed, “The direct consciousness typewriter is a curse for Wenna, isn’t it?”

“…I heard she couldn’t sleep the night she first learned about that technology. At first, I didn’t understand what she was worried about, until the Alliance Tech Journal published that one of the inventors was Meriel,” Wickliffe sighed. “That girl finally broke through the last barrier limiting her ability to express herself.”

Camilla smiled but didn’t pursue the topic. Instead, she said thoughtfully, “Speaking of that girl… I heard Meriel signed up for the Western Exploration Team? They should be setting off in a few days, right?”

Wickliffe took a deep puff from his pipe, then slowly exhaled. “The Alliance needs a clearer understanding of the world we live in. Scholars must fill in the gaps in history and lost technologies. The elves need to rediscover their lost origins and homelands. And the gray elves… as a branch of the elven race, Meriel’s participation as a future leader of the gray elves carries special significance.”

He paused, then added, “Besides, she’s already an excellent scholar. Her expertise in magical technology and transmission will be invaluable aboard the ‘Homecoming’.”

“Homecoming…” Camilla’s ears twitched slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. “The elves gave that airborne fortress a fitting name.”

…

“Achoo!!”

A loud sneeze startled Verania, who was concentrating on checking magical readings. The Grant Archmage looked up from a cluster of holographic projections and crystalline panels, concern flickering in her eyes as she glanced at the small girl rubbing her nose nearby.

“You alright? Did you catch a cold yesterday?”

“I’m fine! Just a bit itchy,” Meriel Whitebloom rubbed her nose vigorously, waving her hand. “Have you finished the checks? Are the readings off?”

“Just as you said, there was an abnormal spike in the echo from the secondary energy line, but it was a false alarm caused by interference in the feedback circuit. The issue has been resolved,” Verania said, stretching her stiff back. “Still, even the smallest problem must be treated carefully, especially on the eve of departure.”

Meriel nodded gently, then turned and slowly walked to the edge of the nearby platform.

Thin mist swirled around the platform like an invisible, shifting sea. Peering down, Meriel saw the gleaming edge armor of the airborne fortress sparkling in the sunlight. Far below, the forest stretched lush and green. The Homecoming’s long bridge reflected the sun’s rays at the forest’s edge, while small, nimble flying vessels took off from the base near the bridge, forming a line as they flew toward the anti-gravity fortress beneath her feet.

They were the last supply and personnel convoy.

“How do you feel?” The Grant Archmage Verania appeared quietly behind the young gray elf, smiling. “This is your first time seeing the Homecoming Bridge, isn’t it? You didn’t see it when you came by ship before.”

“It’s beautiful—I’d only seen it in books before,” Meriel said shyly.

Though she had grown more accustomed to “normal socializing” over the years, standing before the renowned Grant Archmage—who had personally helped design the Silver Empire’s first modern anti-gravity airborne fortress—still made her nervous at times.

“Yes, it’s beautiful… The pioneers among the Silver Elves built it in ancient times. Back then, my mentor’s mentor was just an apprentice learning magic.”

The Grant Archmage spoke slowly, a trace of nostalgia in her voice.

“…That was a glorious era. We used the abundant resources brought from our homeland to build magnificent bridges and royal cities, along with factories and forges surrounding them. But it was also the beginning of our decline… Behind the false brilliance, countless elves scattered across forests and wastelands, falling out of sync with civilization.

“For thousands of years after, we never managed to build anything like the Homecoming Bridge again.”

Meriel blinked. Though she was an elf, the gray elves and Silver Elves had long diverged into different subspecies. The cultural and physiological gaps between the two made it hard for her to fully grasp the Grant Archmage’s feelings.

But she understood the sentiment.

“Now the Silver Empire has built the ‘Homecoming’,” she said earnestly.

“…Yes, the age of decline is finally over.” The Grant Archmage paused, then smiled slowly. Her gaze swept over the new deck equipment and functional buildings on distant platforms, her expression momentarily distant.

Compared to the ancient Star Sanctum, this modern anti-gravity fortress built by the Silver Elves was almost a “pocket-sized” creation—less than a quarter its size, and even outmatched by the first sky fortress “Dawn of the Mortal World” built years ago by the Cecil Empire.

Yet here it was, soaring through the sky—brand new, sturdy, and fully powered.

Just as Verania had dreamed countless times over the centuries.

Such a flying ark was worthy of carrying the elves across oceans in search of their homeland.

The Grant Archmage suddenly snapped back to reality and smiled apologetically at the young gray elf scholar. “Sorry, I got lost in thought… Living so long makes it easy to get sentimental.”

“But you look so young,” Meriel said frankly. “To me, you’re at the age where you’d catch the attention of fine gentlemen…”

“Don’t flatter me,” Verania’s expression twisted awkwardly, then she quickly changed the subject to avoid embarrassment. “By the way, have you heard about the Alliance’s recent ‘Touch of the Starsea’ project at the Interstellar Foreign Affairs Office?”

Meriel paused, then recalled something from a recent internal journal. “You mean the plan to establish broader communication with the Noy society? I know a little about it.”

“That’s right. The Sea Sirens have made great breakthroughs in faster-than-light communication technology reconstruction over the past two years. We and the Noy plan to increase interstellar communication bandwidth based on that, opening some civilian, regular communication tests,” Verania said with a bright smile. “As a step to deepen mutual trust and understanding between our civilizations, a group will be selected to establish exchanges with the ‘chosen ones’ among the Noy.”

“Pen pals?” Meriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to participate?”

“I might be among the first,” the Grant Archmage said modestly. “Though I wonder what kind of ‘friend’ the Noy will be…”

Meriel blinked, nodding with a mix of understanding and confusion.

Behind them, unnoticed by both, the Silver Empress Belsethia happened to pass by, pausing thoughtfully. A smile gradually spread across her face.

…

Three days later, news spread like wildfire: “The great archmage Lady Verania, after a long stretch of singledom, has finally lost interest in the men of this planet and has set her sights on an alien instead…”

(The End of this Chapter)