Chapter 275: After the Battle

Although the final outcome was somewhat unexpected to Gawain, the overall result of the battle still fell largely within his expectations—just a few thousand mutated creatures could no longer threaten the well-fortified territory of Cecil. Even with the appearance of previously unseen variants among the mutants, the conclusion remained unchanged.

But even after successfully repelling this wave of attack, there was no room for complacency.

The emergence of these unprecedented mutated individuals was itself a troubling sign—and their apparent intelligence was even more unsettling. What had caused their mutation? Was this a widespread phenomenon? Would it continue to evolve? The monsters this time had limited intellect and were few in number, but what about the next time? Or the time after that?

The soldiers began clearing the battlements. Since the enemy never breached the walls, there were no casualties in this battle, though some soldiers were wounded by the mutants’ corrosive energy arrows. Armor enchanted with magic or protected by gentle wind shields could effectively resist the corrosive energy, but this resistance was limited. Wounds inflicted by corrupted magical energy had to be treated promptly; otherwise, even minor injuries could prove fatal.

Gawain stood at the edge of the wall, gazing down at the battlefield still shrouded in flames and corrupted energy.

Thousands of mutants lay sprawled across the small plain, scarred by thunderous explosions. Their filthy, profane flesh was rapidly decaying and weathering away, transforming into the most primal form of magical energy in nature. Their massive blood-red skeletons smoldered in the craters, sending up thick plumes of smoke. The corrupted magic energy they carried had stained the soil with an ominous dark brown hue, which lingered even after the battle’s end.

This contamination was only temporary; the corruption wouldn’t remain in the soil for long, but it would take time to dissipate. Based on previous monster sieges—and Gawain’s own memories—the residual corrupted magic energy in the land would take several days to fade to a harmless level. Until then, the small plain outside the southern walls was clearly unsuitable for human activity, and some construction projects would inevitably be affected.

As Gawain pondered the next steps for recovery and production adjustments in the territory, a cool, slightly damp sensation suddenly brushed against him—not chilling, just refreshing. Then, a few drops of rain fell onto his hair.

Rain? Rain in the month of Mist?

Startled, Gawain looked up and extended his hand. Fine strands of rain were indeed falling from the sky, shimmering faintly with a blue glow. The droplets didn’t bring the biting cold one would expect; instead, they quickly restored the stamina of everyone on the wall, purified the lingering corrupted magic in the air, and even visibly healed the tainted soil outside the walls.

This rain, falling in the dead of winter, could not be natural. Gawain’s intuition told him so. He turned his head and saw a graceful figure climbing up the wall—a water nymph cloaked in a misty veil, her arms outstretched. Behind her, powerful water elemental energy formed a long, faintly glowing thread stretching to the sky, like a celestial string being plucked, or a pair of breathtaking wings unfurling. And behind this sea siren was a tail, arching and curling…

Gawain tried hard to look away from the tail, but no matter how many mental filters he applied, the “water nymph” was still unmistakably a mermaid, undulating closer and closer.

Then, the mermaid reached Gawain’s side, elegantly lowering her hands and stretching lazily for several meters. “Phew—am I late?”

“Did you bring the rain?” Gawain asked, curious, then added awkwardly, “I didn’t expect you to come help.”

Many soldiers on the wall paused, gazing at the mermaid with awe. They had already felt the healing and purifying power in the unusual rain and now paid their respects. The mermaid waved off their reverence casually, then glanced at Gawain. “Rebecca asked me to come. Honestly, I’d rather be sleeping indoors, but since this is where I live now, I thought I’d check on things.”

“Rebecca, huh…” Gawain glanced toward the rest area behind the wall. The young woman had been brought down by Amber and was resting in the rear. Although she had only cast one massive fireball during the battle, that single spell had wiped out nearly all remaining enemies and completely drained her spirit. According to Hetty, she probably wouldn’t wake up until nightfall.

Better let her sleep a bit longer—she might be in trouble otherwise.

The mermaid leisurely moved beside Gawain and peered down at the still-smoking battlefield. The flames had been extinguished by the cleansing rain, but the black-red smoke rising from the decomposing bloodied bones persisted. The sea siren frowned slightly. “Is this what you call the ‘Magic Tide’ you experienced back then?”

“No, these are just monsters born from the Magic Tide—they carry its power,” Gawain explained. “These creatures likely wandered out from the ruins of Gondor.”

“Hm… interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Gawain asked, intrigued, then suddenly remembered, “Right, you’ve experienced the real Magic Tide. Does it feel very different from the aura here?”

“The aura? That doesn’t matter much. The Magic Tide is a process of magical energy reshaping all things. This chaotic, disordered magic energy is the same whether it’s a great or minor Magic Tide. What I find interesting… are these so-called monsters born from the Magic Tide.”

“These monsters?” Gawain’s expression turned serious. “What have you noticed?”

“Did you see how they’re decomposing?” The mermaid curled her tail and pointed with its tip at the corpses breaking down below the wall. “Their flesh and blood are dissolving much like ordinary rock or soil being broken down by chaotic magic energy—only faster and more thoroughly.”

“That’s true…”

“Their existence is very unstable. Once they die, their remains quickly disintegrate. This is a sign of an ‘intermediate state,’” she said calmly. “I don’t know exactly how they came to be, but their traits suggest they are ‘failed products’—creatures undergoing transformation under the Magic Tide but unable to complete it. I can sense the energy released as they break down. It’s very close to chaotic magic energy, but with subtle differences…”

A faint crackle of arcane sparks interrupted their conversation. Gawain turned to see Kamiel floating over from nearby. The ancient mage’s arcane energy flickered erratically, as if malfunctioning.

“Kamiel, are you alright?” Gawain asked, surprised. “You’re flickering.”

“Don’t worry. I was just startled by Miss Rebecca’s magic earlier,” Kamiel said as his arcane energy gradually stabilized. “Lady Hetty is looking for you.”

“I know. It’s the post-battle meeting,” Gawain nodded, glancing at the soldiers cleaning the battlefield. “I’ll leave this to them. Let’s head to the administration hall. Ti’er, are you coming?”

“Can I sleep during the meeting?”

“…Suit yourself. Just don’t wrap anyone up with your tail.”

“Then I’m in.”

Not long after, the main administrators of the Cecil territory gathered in the central administration hall. Gawain sat at the head of the round table. Besides Hetty, who managed internal affairs, and Byron and Philip, who oversaw military matters, heads of various departments were also summoned.

The first order of business was Gawain confirming the status of several farms in the southern part of the territory with agricultural supervisor Norris. Some newly cultivated lands near the city’s south, close to the Dark Mountains, had raised concerns about contamination from the chaotic magic energy.

After confirming that the farms outside the city were unharmed, Gawain breathed a sigh of relief and then checked on the operations of various departments within the city.

This was the first real test for the administration hall and its supporting bureaucracy since their establishment. Although it was only a monster siege, it was undoubtedly a trial—and the results did not disappoint Gawain.

All departments operated normally before and after the battle. Under the supervision of various managers, the entire territory maintained order throughout. Once the dust settled, orders to lift the alert and resume normal production and daily life were quickly communicated to factories, schools, and residential areas. While minor issues arose due to inexperience, overall, nothing deviated from the purpose Gawain had set for this administrative system.

Once internal affairs were confirmed stable, Byron stood to report on the battle’s outcome and losses.

Gawain was already well aware of most details—after all, he had stood on the wall during the fight—but the report was necessary. This was a victory, the first since the administration hall’s founding, and it needed to carry positive symbolic weight. Byron’s report was the first step.

The true “post-battle meeting” began after the heads of civilian departments left, leaving only Gawain, Hetty, Byron, Philip, Amber, and a few others.

“Everyone, the battle is over,” Gawain stood and looked around the room. Kamiel floated beside the table, and Ti’er curled beneath it—both new faces but necessary for this meeting. “But our work is just beginning. In this battle, a previously unseen type of mutant appeared on the field. I must say—even seven hundred years ago, I never saw anything like these monsters.

“These creatures are entirely new. It proves that the ruins of Gondor are not static; changes are happening within. And so are our enemies.”

(End of chapter)