Chapter 341: The Month of Renewal

Watching Kamail dismantle the key magical rune structures embedded in the crown and display them floating in midair, Highlord Gawain’s expression grew intrigued. “With this device, could we unravel the secrets of magical communication?”

“At the very least, it brings us significantly closer,” Kamail replied cheerfully. “If we set aside the deeper mysteries and focus solely on building a practical communication device, this crown contains all the necessary rune arrays—those that convert information into magical oscillations, emit those oscillations outward, receive incoming signals, and so forth. However, there are still challenges to overcome… The crown is extremely costly and structurally complex. Human consciousness carries an immense amount of information, so to transmit it stably, the crown incorporates mid-level mental magic spells. Frankly, I don’t think we need to go that far.”

Gawain understood Kamail’s point—it was something he often emphasized himself: industrial products should follow the principle of practicality and sufficiency. Especially for mass-produced gear issued to ordinary soldiers or workers, as long as it meets the basic requirements, it’s a qualified product. Did the mass-produced communication devices that Lord Cecil’s domain was developing really need to transmit the entirety of human consciousness?

Not at this stage. Gawain only required a basic communication platform—something that could transmit voice, or even just Morse code, would be acceptable.

Therefore, many of the crown’s complex structures could be omitted.

“We’ll proceed with two parallel projects: one to develop low-end, practical communication devices, and the other as cutting-edge research,” Gawain decided. “By the way, have you made any recent discoveries about the relationship between the natural magical environment and the magical field generated by the obelisks?”

“That’s exactly what I was about to report,” Kamail’s tone turned serious. “After discovering that oscillating magic can propagate within a magical field, I began to consider how communication spells transmit information in the natural environment. I share your view that the ‘primal magical environment’ in nature is likely a kind of magical field—one that appears chaotic, disorderly, and randomly oscillating on the surface. Based on this hypothesis, I conducted an experiment a few days ago…”

Gawain nodded. “Go on.”

“I set up a magical array at the highest peak of the Dark Mountains—far from the ground to minimize interference from creatures and magical devices. Around the array, I placed numerous runes for shielding and filtering to eliminate environmental noise. Over several days of observation, I detected a brief, patterned oscillation…”

“A patterned oscillation?” Gawain’s interest piqued immediately.

“Yes, it lasted less than a second and was observed only once,” Kamail confirmed. “I can’t draw any firm conclusions yet, but I believe our approach is sound. The natural ‘primal magical environment’ should indeed be an immense magical field enveloping our entire world, constantly oscillating. However, its oscillation patterns are extremely complex and heavily interfered with—everything in existence contains magic, even the materials used to construct the observation array, which themselves cause interference. So, it’s nearly impossible to determine the full laws governing this natural magical field. Yet, in that fleeting moment of patterned oscillation, we can boldly hypothesize the field’s existence…”

“Interference…” Gawain murmured, repeating the key word from Kamail’s explanation.

So far, the findings aligned with his own suspicions—magic has wave-like properties, and the natural ‘primal magical environment’ is an enormous magical field. Magic itself is likely the result of oscillations within this field causing various energy transfer phenomena…

This was a highly tentative model, a hypothesis lacking solid empirical evidence. From a scientific standpoint, it couldn’t yet be considered a “scientific theory,” but it was the best explanation Gawain could conceive for the nature of magic in this world.

He knew that proving a hypothesis required rigorous data and experimentation. No matter how elegant a theory, without sufficient evidence it cannot be accepted as fact. Kamail understood this too, which was why he repeatedly qualified his experimental conclusions as “bold assumptions.” But obtaining further experimental results under current conditions was clearly difficult.

The observation apparatus itself caused interference, and the natural environment was saturated with noise—how could these be overcome?

Gawain fell into deep thought. Soon, however, he noticed Pittman stepping away from Patty. Setting aside his questions for the moment, he nodded to the old druid. “How’s her condition?”

“If you’re hoping to restore her limbs, that’s impossible,” Pittman said bluntly. “She’s been missing her arms and legs for years, and she has no magical aptitude. Flesh regeneration spells won’t grow new limbs—unless you resort to the kind of dark sorcery practiced by the Cult of the End, which rebuilds bodies by devouring others’ flesh. That’s beyond me. If you want, you can try to find a cultist…”

Lady Ropeni’s face instantly paled. Gawain cut him off before he could say more. “Don’t talk nonsense. Give me a feasible plan.”

“The feasible plan is this—I can at least halt the deterioration of her organs and tissue decay,” Pittman said with a self-satisfied smile. “Her wounds won’t heal because her vitality is damaged and harmful magic has infiltrated her circulatory system. I can separate out those harmful energies.”

Ropeni had been quietly standing nearby while Gawain and Kamail discussed matters, but now, hearing talk of her daughter, she could no longer remain silent. “How much improvement can we expect?”

“You won’t have to worry about infection worsening anymore. Her external wounds can heal, and her strength will improve. Eventually, she’ll be able to dress herself normally.”

“That’s far better than I dared hope,” Ropeni said, a genuine smile breaking through. She bowed deeply to Pittman. “Thank you so much, honored master.”

Pittman beamed, stroking his beard with a modest yet dignified smile. “Fulfilling the lord’s orders is the basic duty of an advisor—though I wouldn’t mind a few more compliments…”

Ropeni blinked in confusion.

“Ahem,” Gawain interrupted, sensing the old man was starting to get carried away. “How long will the treatment take?”

“Hmm… it will be a lengthy process,” Pittman said, glancing at Gawain’s arm, thicker than his own thigh, before regaining a serious expression. “Her body can’t withstand intense magical stimulation, and the dosage of potions must be carefully controlled. I can perform an elemental purification ritual periodically. Once her condition stabilizes, I can send my apprentices to administer medicine.”

He looked toward Gawain—such frequent travel between the two domains would require the lord’s approval.

Gawain considered briefly. The Grant Domain was an ally of Cecil’s, and Patty was a valuable asset for his intelligence on the Everwake. Both sentiment and reason dictated they should help. Yet Pittman was not just a druid; he was also the chief alchemist and agricultural advisor. With winter ending and the Month of Renewal approaching, spring planting and factory expansions were on the agenda. Could Pittman afford to leave now?

After a moment, Gawain nodded. “Agreed—but make sure spring planting and factory expansions are managed.”

“Of course,” Pittman smiled. “That’s no problem for me.”

Once Lady Ropeni went to check on Patty in private, Gawain smirked slightly at Pittman. “Your ritual magic really is effective.”

The old man chuckled. “Ritual magic has always been my specialty.”

“But elemental purification and harmful magic filtering… that’s not something a low-level druid would know,” Gawain said lightly. “Have you also studied shamanic magic?”

“At my age, it’s normal to pick up a few skills,” Pittman replied casually.

“…Is it really necessary to mention your age around me?” Gawain waved his hand dismissively, ending the topic without pressing further.

Pittman watched Gawain’s retreating figure quietly. After a long moment, he sighed softly, a faint smile on his lips.

Three days later, Gawain and his party left the ancient Grant family castle and returned to the Cecil Domain.

It was the last day of winter.

The biting cold northern wind had lost its sharp edge. The “Reef Star” and “Trident Throne” constellations hung high in the night sky, subtly shifting positions. Changes in wind and star patterns heralded the changing season—the Month of Renewal had arrived.

With it came news spreading through the eastern Ansu region and the Holy Spirit Plains. At first, traveling merchants and adventurers whispered vague rumors, but soon more reliable information emerged from noblemen’s coachmen and cooks—

The magical communication towers along the Ansu-Typhon border had been reactivated.

The king was preparing for peace talks with the Typhon emperor.

But for Gawain, more than this expected news, there was something else worth celebrating.

On this still-chilly spring day, a baby was born on the soil of the Cecil Domain.

Since the first wooden stake was driven into this frontier land, since survivors lit the first campfire here, nearly a year had passed. Tens of thousands had migrated to this land. Excluding the recently annexed Kant Domain, this was the very first newborn child born on this soil.

(End of chapter)