Chapter 378: The Ancestors Are Watching from the Heavens

Above Treaty Fort, two beams of light still shone brightly into the sky. As the blazing sun dipped below the horizon and night gradually fell, these twin shafts of light stood out starkly against the darkened heavens—like two gleaming swords piercing the blackness, visible for miles around the fort.

Perhaps these beams truly symbolized two swords: the swords of Ansu and Typhon. And now, those swords were engaged in a negotiation, a dialogue yearning for peace.

The private meeting between the king and the emperor had just concluded. Though no one knew exactly what was said behind closed doors, the general tone had been set by the exchange between these two rulers. The fact that the formal talks were proceeding as scheduled after nightfall was a sign that things were, for the most part, going according to plan.

Once the official negotiations began, Duke Selas Lorren—the kingdom’s highest guardian of the eastern border and the first executor along the frontier—entered the great hall of Treaty Fort with his eldest son, Belk Lorren. They took their seats just behind the king’s side, a position from which Selas could see Andesha Windel sitting across the long table, and beyond her, the legendary and formidable Typhon ruler: Emperor Rosetta.

Rosetta Augustus wore a simple black coat trimmed with gold—a modest outfit that did nothing to diminish the imposing aura of the Typhon emperor. He sat directly opposite Francis II, his face thin and somber, a faint smile barely touching his lips. To Duke Lorren, he seemed like a predator born of shadows—one who had stepped into the light but still carried an unshakable darkness within. He smiled in the brightness, yet it felt as if another face lurked perpetually in the shadows.

In contrast, Francis II maintained a calm, serene smile throughout. The old king’s eyes held no trace of intimidation, yet they never left Rosetta Augustus. His steady, commanding voice reached Duke Lorren’s ears: “It has been seven hundred years since the ancestors of humanity braved the wastelands and established new kingdoms on the continent’s edge. We have enjoyed seven centuries of peace, but each of us knows well—the wasteland has not receded one bit during this time. As many scholars have warned, though we live in peace now, the barrier between our tranquility and utter catastrophe is but a thin wall.”

“That wall was built by the elves,” Rosetta Augustus nodded slightly, acknowledging Francis’s words, “but it is not as permanent or reliable as we once believed. There is now clear evidence that the monsters from the wasteland have gained the ability to breach the barrier. This is a shared threat.”

“Therefore, we have come here, just as our ancestors did seven centuries ago, to unite and seek a common way to confront this menace,” Francis II declared solemnly, raising his hand toward the sky. “Our forebears watch us from the realm of the gods. Under their gaze and witness, it is time to set aside needless greed and conflict, and together pursue the path of peace.”

Within the area illuminated by the twin beams piercing the night sky, a swift, small bird darted through the light, its clear chirp echoing as it flew higher and higher.

In just a few breaths, it soared into the clouds, reaching heights beyond human sight. Neither its speed nor its altitude fit the usual idea of a mere “bird.” Yet at this height, still cloaked in darkness, the sentinels on the ground gazing upward could never have seen such an impossible sight.

The bird flipped in midair, and suddenly a surge of magical energy enveloped its entire body, tearing the surrounding clouds apart. Within the pale cyan glow of the magic, a massive form swiftly materialized—hard, blue-green scales, a long elegant neck, and enormous wings that blotted out the sky. The “bird” had transformed into a mighty dragon.

The dragon adjusted its flight with agility, magical light shimmering along its wings. Using magic rather than aerodynamics, it angled its heavy body sharply in the thin air. In its huge golden vertical pupils, the twin beams from Treaty Fort still reflected.

The dragon cast one last glance at the fort, then beat its wings powerfully, climbing rapidly to altitudes no mortal creature could reach. It glided along the edge of the atmosphere, where the faint curve of the earth was just visible.

After a moment, a faint golden glow appeared before the dragon’s eyes, expanding into a crystal-clear curved screen. Complex lines and constantly updating runes danced across the display. When the patterns stabilized, the dragon spoke in a deep, authoritative female voice: “Signal transmission altitude reached. Beginning observation report.

“Ansu and Typhon, two human nations, have commenced peace negotiations at the border’s Treaty Fort. Talks have entered a substantive phase…

“No abnormal magical fluctuations detected across the continent. Since the last aberrant invasion in these two countries, no further aberrations have been found in the northern regions.

“Magical environment at the atmospheric boundary remains stable… temporarily stable.”

The lines and runes on the screen trembled, then a voice responded clearly despite the howling winds: “Remember the code. Do not interfere in mortal affairs—unless they show significant anomalies or have contacted the Legacy of the Ascendants. Dragons must remain uninvolved.”

“Don’t worry. I aced history class on the ‘Rebellion of the Reverse Tide,’” the blue-scaled dragon replied cheerfully. “If I’m sent out as an observer, the Council must trust me.”

“They regretted sending you out on the third day—you went and burned human lands,” the voice on the other end suddenly sounded exasperated. “And I don’t get it—does the Council really not know you have a problem with your eyesight? How did you even qualify as an observer?!”

“Observers don’t have to rely on their eyes,” the blue dragon snorted. “No dragon in the homeland knows this season of the human world better than I do. That alone should have earned me the assignment—”

As she spoke, the dragon awkwardly twisted her neck, still gliding but straining to lift her head and glance at the dense cluster of bright stars in the night sky.

The voice on the other end resumed its nagging complaints, but the dragon cut it off: “By the way, I don’t know if it’s just me, but I’ve felt like someone’s been watching me since a while ago…”

“Someone watching you?” The voice sounded shocked. “Where exactly are you? Who could possibly see you?”

“At signal transmission altitude, the edge of the atmosphere,” the blue dragon said, awkwardly looking up again and shifting her glide path as if trying to evade an unseen gaze. “I don’t know what’s going on—it feels like the gaze is coming from above.”

“Above? Don’t be ridiculous! The Ascendants left millions of years ago! Are you sure someone’s watching you from above?”

Listening to her companion’s voice, the dragon looked up once more. But in the clear, star-studded night sky, there was no sign of the Ascendants—no legendary engine flashes like falling stars, no enchanting glow of a star gate opening, no brilliant streaks of the astral pathways. The stars hung silently, as they always had.

“Must be my imagination,” the dragon muttered. “The Ascendants couldn’t possibly be back.”

“You scared me so much my scales changed color!” The voice on the other end seemed relieved but still grumbled. “Alright, communication’s ending. Continue your mission. Next contact as scheduled.”

The transmission ended, and the floating projection before the dragon vanished. Yet the feeling of being watched from high above lingered stubbornly.

“Who’s got no shame, opening a mage’s eye in the stratosphere?!” The dragon finally snapped in frustration, then flapped her massive wings fiercely. Driven by a violent magical wind, her enormous body twisted sharply in the air. “I’ll spin you dizzy with a barrel roll—ah… ah… ah, cramps… cramps…”

Back in the Cecil Territory, Gawain ended his satellite link in stunned silence.

He had been observing Treaty Fort—after his first midday surveillance, he rested for a while, then resumed after dinner.

Though regaining control of the satellite’s viewing angle came with a loss of clarity—no longer the ultra-high definition of his “satellite ace” days—a real-time monitoring perspective still let him catch the broad strokes of the border talks. So, once negotiations began, he watched the fort whenever he had the chance.

Until just now, when a dragon suddenly appeared in his view.

He was absolutely certain it was a dragon. Judging by its scale color and general shape, it resembled the dragon he had seen in the old Cecil Territory when he was first resurrected—though he couldn’t be sure if it was the same one, since no one really knew if all dragons looked alike.

From the moment the dragon appeared, Gawain’s full attention was captured. This was the second time since his “resurrection” that he’d spotted a dragon, and his curiosity was so intense he momentarily forgot about the ongoing peace talks. He immediately began tracking the dragon’s movements, putting the fort’s affairs aside.

But that didn’t matter much—the fort’s roof blocked the satellite’s view, and the current angle had no X-ray capability. Even if he kept watching the talks, all he’d see was the roof.

He followed the dragon for over ten minutes. In the latter half of the pursuit, Gawain was surprised to notice something: the dragon seemed aware of his gaze!

It frequently looked up and changed its flight path, clearly conscious of being watched.

Fortunately for Gawain, the dragon appeared powerless against the satellite. The massive creature never escaped his sight…

Until, finally, the dragon shook him off in a way that left Gawain speechless—a thrilling, high-speed series of maneuvers, culminating in a spiraling, steep dive toward the earth.

Caught off guard by such an unexpected and technically demanding move, Gawain’s adjustments to angle and focus lagged just enough for the dragon to slip from view…

(End of chapter)