Chapter 259: Solderin’s Hesitation
Gawain Cecil, reborn seven hundred years later, wasn’t exactly the same as the one Solderin remembered.
As an elf blessed with a naturally long lifespan, Solderin’s memory was far sharper than any human’s. He could vividly recall his own experiences over the past seven centuries, as well as the stirring days of pioneering seven hundred years ago. He had witnessed how Gawain Cecil grew from a reckless young knight into a legendary hero who guarded the kingdom. He remembered the hero’s fierce determination—and also how peacefully he had lain in his coffin…
Well, that last memory wasn’t particularly useful; it was just that the strange topic they’d just finished discussing had left a strong impression.
Gawain noticed the occasional flicker of doubt and hesitation in Solderin’s eyes and could guess what was on his mind. But it was inevitable—after all, he wasn’t truly Gawain Cecil. Though inheriting a vast amount of memories allowed him to imitate the original’s words and deeds in many ways, even the slightest difference was enough for a sensitive elf with an excellent memory to detect.
So, rather than forcing a perfect imitation, Gawain decided to be upfront. If Solderin sensed any deliberate act, it would only raise more suspicion.
He spoke openly, “Do you think I’m different from how I was seven hundred years ago?”
“There are definitely many differences,” Solderin nodded. “I know humans are fickle by nature, but that’s only when they’re alive. You were lying in a tomb all this time. I don’t understand why you would be… so different after waking.”
“Life and death can change a lot,” Gawain smiled and shook his head. “To outsiders, I was just a motionless corpse for seven centuries, but in truth, I went through a lot.”
Shifting the conversation with a story packed with information was an effective tactic. Solderin’s expression turned to one of astonishment. “You mean… you were conscious during those seven hundred years of ‘death’? Where did your soul go? Is it true what they say—that your soul traveled the divine realm and lingered in the gods’ palaces for centuries?”
“There are rumors like that?” Gawain was surprised, then wondered if those stories were just another variant of the countless rumors he himself had once spread. He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what the divine realm looks like, but my soul did transcend the limits of time and space. I saw many hidden histories, lost kingdoms, even knowledge not of this world. Compared to my thirty-five years as a human, what my soul witnessed in those seven hundred years was far more. So it’s only natural that I changed after resurrection.”
This was a line of reasoning Gawain had long prepared. He had imagined what to do if a few long-lived “old acquaintances” suddenly appeared, or if ancient people who truly knew Gawain Cecil questioned this resurrected version of himself. He needed an explanation for the changes he’d undergone. Any disguise or act would eventually slip up; facing it head-on with a reasonable story was the safest approach.
After all, this world was full of supernatural phenomena beyond understanding. And as someone who had literally come back from the dead, claiming his soul had traveled through time and space wasn’t so hard to accept.
Though incredible, the story was still within Solderin’s realm of belief. He looked at Gawain in wonder, nodding as he murmured, “That’s amazing… no wonder you suddenly know how to invent things. But have you told your two descendants about this?”
“Rebecca and Hetty? No, I haven’t mentioned it to them,” Gawain shook his head. “I didn’t want to scare them.”
That was just a casual excuse. With Rebecca’s intellect—level 13+ reinforcement and epic-level brainpower—this little story wouldn’t scare her at all. If anything, she’d probably be fascinated and pester Gawain to tell her more of these tall tales.
But Solderin didn’t dwell on it, simply nodding. “Makes sense. Such unbelievable experiences don’t need to be shared with everyone.”
“I’ve talked enough about myself. Let’s talk about you,” Gawain shifted the topic, looking seriously at Solderin. “Why are you in Typhon? And why have you become an officer there?”
“You already asked me that earlier,” Solderin said with a wry smile. “Again?”
“That was a casual question; you gave a casual answer. Now I’m serious, so you answer seriously,” Gawain’s expression remained firm. “Or does Typhon have some magic that made your hair grow long?”
Solderin’s face stiffened, and he awkwardly looked away. “Uh, that’s unrelated…”
After a pause, he sighed and began to explain. “I came to the Typhon Empire a hundred years ago.”
“A hundred years ago…” Gawain frowned, recalling something. “The Mistmoon Civil War?”
“That chaotic upheaval,” Solderin leaned back in his chair, a hint of melancholy in his voice. “You know, I’m an elf, and I’ve traveled the continent for many years. So I’m not easily shaken by human dynastic changes or power struggles. But the Mistmoon Civil War a century ago made me realize this country was no longer a place for me.
“Six centuries had passed, and the descendants of the pioneers seemed to have forgotten the hardships their ancestors endured to build this land. A civil war broke out, everyone fighting for their own interests, tearing the country apart. The descendants of Charles Morn slaughtered each other for the throne. The kingdom’s guardians clashed in chaos. In the end, a bastard son absurdly founded a second dynasty. And that Gruman Cecil…”
Solderin glanced awkwardly at Gawain. “You probably know what he did.”
“Wasted my legacy,” Gawain said calmly. “And lost my shield.”
“Gruman Cecil was an ambitious man. He wanted to end the civil war quickly by swiftly installing a royal family member as the new ruler of Ansu. He believed only such a feat could match the glory of your ancestors. Unfortunately, he had ambition but no ability. His pride turned into arrogance and foolishness. He completely ruined the Cecil family’s legacy. And I, an outsider… could only watch.”
Gawain casually asked, “Did you ever meet Gruman?”
“I even sought him out, hoping to offer advice and help,” Solderin snorted. “For your sake, I was ready to rejoin the Cecil Legion. But your descendant didn’t appreciate it at all—he seemed to think humans should solve their own problems. He wanted to build a greater legacy than you did. If he accepted my help, half the glory would go to his ancestors, and he couldn’t surpass you. Frankly, I don’t understand his thinking.”
Gawain: “…”
He really wanted to curse him as a damn idiot, but held back for the sake of appearances. If the original Gawain Cecil were here, he’d probably die of anger on the spot—and this time, his death wouldn’t be peaceful…
Should he fake a heart attack now to boost his credibility?
Some ridiculous thoughts flashed through Gawain’s mind, but he instinctively asked, “And then?”
“Then? Then I went to Typhon,” Solderin shrugged. “I’m not human. All my ties to Ansu ended with that civil war. Once I confirmed the Cecil family still had heirs, I had no reason to stay.”
The high-level ranger spoke with casual detachment, but Gawain could easily imagine the mood in which he left the kingdom back then.
Most likely, utter disillusionment.
Solderin emphasized his elven identity and his lack of ties to the country, but one fact he could never deny: even as an outsider, he had once stood with the northern pioneers, building this kingdom brick by brick, sword by sword.
If he hadn’t been completely disappointed in Ansu’s heirs, why would he leave?
With that in mind, Gawain asked, “What are your plans for the future?”
“The future? That depends on what you decide,” Solderin said with self-awareness. “Right now, I’m still your prisoner.”
“But whether you remain a prisoner depends on your choice,” Gawain said firmly. “You have an option: return to Typhon or stay with me. The choice is yours.”
This time, Solderin fell into deep, serious thought.
“If you’d come to me from the grave before the Mistmoon Civil War, I wouldn’t hesitate at all,” he said after a long pause, meeting Gawain’s gaze. “But my current situation is awkward.”
“You’re a mercenary. I found that out earlier. You haven’t sworn loyalty to the Typhon royal family.”
“But I’m loyal to my contract,” Solderin shrugged. “Mercenaries have their own code of honor.”
“So you plan to return to Typhon?”
The ranger hesitated. “That’s exactly what I’m torn about—I know you’re real now, and if you told me to turn back, I’d really feel it was a shame. Besides… would you really let a high-level ranger like me go?”
“Of course I want you to stay. I’m short on manpower everywhere here,” Gawain shrugged. “I’ve already decided: if you insist on going back to Typhon, I’ll just knock you out halfway there, tie you up, and convince you again…”
Solderin: “…”
“Just kidding,” Gawain laughed. “I know what you’re worried about, so I won’t make you decide so quickly. You can stay here for a while, see with your own eyes whether this place is worth your commitment. And as for the Typhon soldiers you brought… don’t worry. I promised to spare their lives, and I won’t go back on that. I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
Solderin exhaled deeply. “That’s the best arrangement.”
(End of chapter)