Chapter 242: Close Encounter

As the highest core of the “Rebellion” fortress, this stronghold was constructed entirely within a pocket dimension. Its energy source was exactly as Gawain had suspected—through the “Divine Power Inversion Array,” it drew power directly from the corpse of the nature deity, the Great White Stag Amon. It was precisely because of the endless energy supplied by the divine remains that this fortress had continued to operate in isolation all the way to the present day.

But this was also a source of frustration for Gawain—the fortress’s uniquely specialized power system and its extraordinary environment meant that its internal technology lacked any practical universality or applicability. At least for the foreseeable future, this fortress could not be directly exploited or utilized within his own domain.

It was advanced, yet too peculiar; meaningful, yet too dangerous. Given the current technological and production levels of his territory, it was impossible to develop or even study it properly.

The same applied to the godly corpse floating in the pocket dimension and the “Godslayer Weapon.” Both were treasures far beyond the current capacity of the Cecil Domain to comprehend, and even beyond the psychological endurance of its people. The only solution Gawain could think of was to seal them here temporarily, waiting until his domain had developed enough to undertake large-scale research and excavation.

To him, compared to this impenetrable fortress, the true prize was Kamail himself.

Gawain stood before the isolation barrier, gazing distantly at the white stag. The softly glowing white deer was the only source of warmth and light in this dark, chaotic space. Thanks to the protective shield, mortals could not feel the terror emanating from the stag, only the profound awe and reverence inspired by its astonishing corpse. It was so sacred and graceful—even in death and dismemberment, it remained breathtakingly beautiful. Every contour, every patch of fur, every strand of holy radiance carried an otherworldly elegance beyond mortal comprehension.

This was a true mythical creature, one that existed only in humanity’s most beautiful imaginations and perfect dreams. It reminded Gawain of the “Eternal Dream” created by the Sleeper’s cultists, but unlike that illusion, the Great White Stag Amon was real—lying here in the flesh, a living testament to the age of the gods.

“Can the barrier be opened?” Gawain turned to Kamail. “I want to get a closer look.”

“Absolutely not!” Kamail was startled by Gawain’s words. “Don’t be fooled by appearances. Without the protective shield, mortals who come into close contact with a god almost immediately go mad and die! There are no functioning protective devices left inside the fortress…”

“You might not believe it, but divine pressure has no effect on me,” Gawain said with a smile, glancing at Kamail before pointing to Tyr beside him. “It doesn’t affect her either.”

Kamail was stunned beyond words. To be honest, after transforming into his current life form and enduring so much solitude, he rarely experienced strong emotional fluctuations. Yet today, the emotions he felt surpassed those of the past several centuries combined. His arcane form trembled as he struggled to find words. “You’re serious?”

“Who would joke about something like this?” Gawain looked at Kamail earnestly. “I’ve touched divine flesh before, and Tyr has had many close encounters. We’re confident about this.”

The arcane glow around Kamail flickered as he wrestled with conflicting feelings. After a moment, he floated upward, his voice resolute: “I can open a passage through the barrier, but I must go with you.”

“You?” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say there were no usable protective devices here?”

“I don’t need any,” Kamail replied. “Since my transformation, I’ve lost many mortal weaknesses, including susceptibility to divine will… I can accompany you safely.”

The ancient man’s determination was clear, and Gawain understood his reasoning: Kamail had finally found hope of leaving this place and naturally didn’t want to see that hope squandered by reckless death. So he nodded. “Alright, you come with us. Tyr, you’re coming too—I’ve seen you drooling over there long enough.”

“No way!” Tyr wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and followed Gawain without hesitation. “I’m being modest—you can even see I brought my own knife and fork…”

Gawain was taken aback. Why would a seafood creature carry cutlery on an expedition? Where did she even get those?

Hetty, aware of Gawain’s unique nature, still offered a concerned reminder: “Ancestor, please be careful. This place is truly bizarre.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be cautious,” Gawain reassured his eldest granddaughter. “You and the warriors wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

Kamail approached an ancient control panel beside the isolation barrier. After a series of operations, Gawain noticed the energy shield outside the barrier ripple slightly. The magical light flowing across its surface condensed into a hazy silhouette—clearly an exit.

“Follow me,” Kamail led the way through the opening, floating forward as he warned, “Stay close. I don’t know if you can truly resist the influence of divine will, but as long as you don’t stray too far, if anything happens, I can still bring you to safety.”

Passing through the translucent shield, Gawain was surprised to find the environment outside almost identical to that inside.

Looking at the shattered landscape, his first concern was whether there was breathable air beyond the barrier. The place resembled a lifeless void, like outer space. But once outside, he realized not only could he breathe freely, there was even gravity.

Though the ground was made up of countless floating boulders and debris drifting weightlessly, stepping on the larger stones gave the same gravitational pull as the outside world.

Kamail reminded him, “Don’t leave these stones. If you drift too far, you’ll lose gravity and float away. Without a new foothold, you’ll never return.”

Gawain nodded, his mind racing with theories.

All signs pointed to this pocket dimension being a distorted reflection of the real world—like the Shadow Realm, it obeyed strange but corresponding physical laws. He looked up at the chaotic deep sky, the floating stones and wreckage, and suddenly recalled Kamail’s earlier words.

“This really is the Umbral Realm?”

Kamail nodded. “We spent over a decade confirming it. Scholars’ theories about the world’s layered structure are correct. Beneath the Shadow Realm lies an even more chaotic, disordered place. The land here is fragmented, gravity scattered by the shattered earth. It’s a chaotic mirror formed by a secondary deep-layer projection of the real world… If the Shadow Realm still shows some recognizable contours of reality, here the reflection is so twisted it’s unrecognizable.”

“I found a huge void in the Dark Mountains of the Shadow Realm,” Gawain said. “That void near the magic gate—is it connected to the Umbral Realm?”

“That’s the passage from the Shadow Realm to the Umbral Realm,” Kamail confirmed. “We don’t know what caused it, but such terrifying voids occasionally appear in the Shadow Realm. With proper guidance, you can use them to enter the deeper Umbral Realm. In fact, that’s the only way in—entering the Shadow Realm is relatively easy with strong shadow talents, ritual magic, and some materials to open a gate. But to reach the Umbral Realm, you must find one of these voids.”

Gawain muttered, “Feels like someone’s been drilling holes in the Shadow Realm…”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Gawain shook his head. “Have you found other voids in the Shadow Realm?”

“Yes, but we only managed to build one magic gate,” Kamail answered calmly. “It requires enormous energy and some kind of ‘guidance.’ We first located the coordinates of the White Star’s fall in the real world through divine magic and divination, then built the surface ‘Rebellion’ fortress there. At the fortress’s base, we opened a spatial rift and used the Great White Stag Amon’s divine power to push the rift to the edge of the Shadow Realm’s void, finally opening the only gate to the Umbral Realm. This success is nearly impossible to replicate—unless we find another fallen god opposite another Shadow Realm void.”

So there really were other voids in the Shadow Realm, and these voids were gateways to the Umbral Realm. Divine power could open these passages…

All these clues swirled in Gawain’s mind. After a moment, he raised his gaze to the corpse of the nature god.

Now so close, the massive body loomed like a small hill a hundred meters away. The faint white glow radiating from the stag’s surface carried a gentle warmth. Just approaching it, Gawain felt a surge of vibrant life.

To sense such vitality in a corpse was truly strange.

At the same time, he clearly felt something within the corpse was afraid of him.

Was it the god’s lingering consciousness? A fragment of its soul? Or merely the reflexes of undying, vigorous cells? Gawain couldn’t pinpoint the subtle sensation, but he could feel a part of the corpse’s energy rapidly fading as he drew near, as if desperately hiding itself.

Even Kamail noticed the change. His life form had transformed under divine influence, making him especially sensitive to energy shifts within the Great White Stag Amon. He shot Gawain a horrified glance, but the next moment, he was even more horrified to see the half-serpent Tyr rushing toward the nature god’s body, brandishing her knife and fork high…

“Delicious!!”

Tyr gave the nature god her highest praise.

(End of chapter)