Chapter 388: The Mystery of Amber’s Origins
A civil war—a real civil war.
This was unlike the usual skirmishes between regional nobles, unlike the limited wars fought by lords over land redistribution, and even unlike the military campaign Gawain was preparing to reclaim the southern territories. What Ansu was about to face was a genuine internal conflict.
The fractured royal family and the border dukes would be the instigators, the leaders, and the participants in this war.
Behind it all lurked the Cult of the End of All Things, a shadowy, enigmatic cult hidden in the darkness.
Their power had grown to an unimaginable scale.
Gawain was nearly dumbfounded. He stared at Clement with a mix of shock and disbelief. Though this high-ranking cultist had been turned into a puppet under Tyr’s tendrils, Gawain couldn’t help but regard the man who had just ignited the fuse of civil war with a new level of respect. “Why are you stirring up this war? What do you hope to gain?”
A flicker of struggle crossed Clement’s face, as if his last shred of will was fighting against answering. But after a moment, he spoke in a low, muddled voice: “We want only one thing… war… any kind of war…”
“You want war?” Gawain’s brow furrowed deeply. “Why? What do you want war for?”
Clement muttered incoherently. Tyr let out a soft hum, and the tendrils shimmered faintly, eroding whatever resistance remained in Clement’s mind. “War… brings ample… raw materials…”
Gawain pressed on, “Raw materials? For what?”
Clement let out a pained growl. Tyr made a curious little sound.
“There’s a very powerful psychic seal… even stronger than my Deep Sea Voice,” the sea witch said with a hint of helplessness. “That seal just erased part of his memory… I didn’t even have time to see how it worked.”
“Such a thing exists?” Gawain was taken aback. He hadn’t expected the cult to have such a ‘security lock’ embedded in the minds of their high-ranking members. He tried several indirect approaches to pry more clues from Clement, but as expected—nothing.
What Gawain could confirm was this:
Prince Edmond had participated in patricide and maintained a wary, delicate ‘cooperation’ with the Cult of the End of All Things. Edmond’s goal was to end the puppet monarchy of the Second Dynasty and seize full control of the kingdom. Beyond that, he likely had many other plans. The cult needed war to supply some kind of ‘raw material’—whether it was an internal civil war in Ansu or a conflict between Ansu and Typhon, both suited their purposes. And the cult’s influence was hidden within Typhon’s ranks; Emperor Rosetta Augustus was very likely a collaborator.
That was all the intelligence Gawain could extract from Clement.
After the interrogation, Gawain glanced at Amber, who stood silently beside him, and prompted, “Don’t you have questions? Ask them now.”
Amber looked at Gawain, then at Clement, biting her lip before pulling something from her pocket.
She held it out before Clement. “I heard something earlier—do you know where this ring came from?”
It took Clement a long time to focus his cloudy gaze on the ring in Amber’s hand. He muttered in a low voice, “Shadow Signet Ring… an ancient ring…”
“Do you know why this ring was in the Ansu king’s possession?” Amber fixed her eyes on Clement. For the first time, Gawain saw a serious, earnest, and slightly anxious expression on her usually carefree face.
Where had this ring come from? It clearly meant a great deal to Amber.
Clement responded quickly: “The Shadow Signet Ring… long ago belonged to Francis Morn… I don’t know who owned it before Francis II… only that it came from the ancient Kingdom of Ganggandor… a legacy…”
“You say it’s a legacy of the ancient Ganggandor Empire?” Amber’s eyes widened. “Isn’t there any other history about this ring?”
Amber’s question was clearly too complex. Clement muttered for a long time before managing to say something coherent: “It… is connected to the Shadow Realm… can communicate with creatures in the shadows…”
“That’s like saying nothing at all!” Amber’s frustration was clear; even her usually perky ears drooped slightly.
Gawain had never seen the bold half-elf so downcast. Curious, he asked, “Is this ring really that important to you?”
“Yeah,” Amber nodded, then pulled out another ring from her pocket. It looked identical to the Shadow Signet Ring but was clearly damaged; the intricate magical runes inside had failed. To Gawain’s senses, it was just a powerless metal band. “This is another one… When I was little, my foster father told me this ring was the only clue he found when he took me in. It wasn’t broken back then—it only got like this the year I awakened my shadow powers…”
“Your origins…” Gawain finally understood why Amber had that expression earlier. “So, if I’m hearing you right, you got the Shadow Signet Ring from Francis II himself?”
“That’s right,” Amber nodded. “Because he used the ring to open a spatial gate, I was able to escape to the border. I thought I’d finally found a lead to my parents, but it turned out to be just a ring.”
At that moment, Tyr, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up: “Let me chime in—Clement said the Shadow Signet Ring was always in the old king’s possession. Amber, could you be the king’s illegitimate daughter?”
Not just Tyr—Gawain himself had entertained this huge possibility after learning about Amber’s connection to the ring. But before he could say anything, Solderin, who had been quietly listening nearby, shook his head. “Impossible—look at Amber’s ears.”
“Ears?” Gawain looked at Amber in confusion.
“The edges, see how they curve upward?” Amber pointed to her long, pointed elven ears. “That’s a paternal trait—it means my father is an elf. If it were maternal, the edges would be flatter and extend backward.”
“I never knew there was such a difference…” Gawain admitted. Even back in his days as Gawain Cecil, he was more knowledgeable about human affairs and hadn’t been aware of this detail. “So your father must be an elf… and given their lifespan, there’s a good chance he’s still alive.”
“I think so too. I don’t know what race my mother was, but I believe my father is still alive,” Amber said, lifting her chin with determination. “Since the Shadow Signet Ring is a treasure of the ancient Ganggandor Empire, my father must have been a powerful elf. And he left me another ring… it must be so we could recognize each other someday!”
Gawain smiled faintly at Amber’s complex expression. “Of course—that’s the most logical conclusion.”
“But after all these years… all I’ve found is a ring… and it came from someone who’s already dead… the king’s secret treasure—who do I even ask about its origins?”
Gawain was silent for a few seconds, then looked up slowly and said softly, “Take the capital, and you’ll find someone who can tell you.”
“Oh…” Amber murmured, then half a second later gasped, “What?!”
“The war has begun,” Gawain sighed softly. “Whether we want it or not, it’s already started.”
The stone cavern of the Shadow Experiment Grounds fell silent again, broken only by Clement’s low, muddled muttering and the occasional ripple of Tyr’s tendrils stirring the water. After a long pause, Solderin met Gawain’s gaze and said, “There’s a darker cloud behind this war than the war itself. Those cultists of the End of All Things are counting on this civil war—you know that.”
“I know,” Gawain nodded slightly. “But this war is inevitable. The seeds of instability were sown the day the Duke of the North backed an illegitimate son to the throne. The kingdom’s fragile peace has been maintained only through constant compromises by the Morn royal family and a delicate balance among the dukes. In other words, if the royal family refuses to compromise and the dukes stop balancing each other, this peace will collapse immediately. This pressure, built up over a hundred years, is overwhelming. Neither you nor I can stop it.”
Solderin sighed, acknowledging the truth in Gawain’s words.
Gawain said no more, instead silently pondering the things Clement had revealed.
The Cult of the End of All Things was counting on this war because it would provide precious ‘raw materials’ for their mysterious ‘cause.’
Gawain hadn’t been able to uncover exactly what that cause was, but through indirect questioning, ongoing investigations into the cult, and his deeper-than-most understanding of the gods’ fall and the Druids’ shifting faith, he could roughly guess what the cultists were after—and what those ‘raw materials’ might be.
He continued to question Clement on many points, confirming that Clement held a high-ranking bishop’s position within the cult. He also gathered a wealth of intelligence related to the cult.
The interrogation lasted nearly the entire night.
Finally, Tyr ended his control over Clement.
As the tendrils withdrew, Clement’s flesh began to decay uncontrollably. Like a melting wax statue, he collapsed, leaving behind only a tattered, sticky garment and a few fragile, porous bones.
The man who had killed Francis II and ignited the first spark of Ansu’s civil war died a miserable death.
“Pretty disgusting,” Tyr said, glancing at the pool’s edge and sticking out her tongue. “Just like a deep-sea sludge monster…”
“Why don’t you retract those tendrils first?” Gawain frowned at the sea witch. “Honestly, your appearance is just as shocking to ordinary people as those sludge monsters.”
(Taking advantage of my birthday today to share some news—many of you probably already know… my wife is pregnant! Three months along now! Next year, we’ll have a little one with bright eyes!
But she’s been having a tough time with the pregnancy, her health is poor, and I need to take care of the family. My energy might be stretched thin, so updates may be affected. I’m adjusting my schedule and writing habits to keep things going, but if some double updates become single ones, I hope you understand… It’s just me handling everything right now, and it’s really busy.
Finally, happy birthday to me =.= and I hope my wife gets better soon.)
(The End of this chapter)