Chapter 428: “Taking Over”

Gawain should have known better—talking endlessly with Tyr, this salty sea creature, was less effective than just letting her have a bite of a “little treat.” Seeing the gleam of genuine interest light up her face, he realized all the earlier chatter had been a waste of breath.

But it didn’t matter. The process wasn’t important; what mattered was that this salty fish was willing to help.

The prototype rainbow light device was an enormous weapon. Even more daunting than its sheer size was the power module it required. According to the technical report Kamail had provided, the rainbow light device needed a long, stable energy supply to function effectively. None of the current magic crystal capacitors used in various magic railguns could meet that demand. This meant the device had to be either built as a fixed turret on a magic network or dragged along a large magic network battlefield. Given Cecil’s current transport technology, moving the device overland to the front lines and ensuring it could be powered up was extremely difficult.

Not impossible—piecemeal delivery of parts and on-site assembly could work—but that would take too long, conflicting with Gawain’s goal of capturing Rockhold Fortress quickly. And if they had time to slowly assemble the rainbow light device, Philip’s magic crystal cannons could probably just blast open the fortress walls anyway, rendering the new weapon pointless.

The best option was to use ships—leveraging the natural waterway of the Whitewater River to deliver the rainbow light device right to Rockhold’s doorstep.

In any scenario, large cargo ships far outmatched land transport in capacity. Their size also made it easier to install various magical mechanisms inside. Plus, transporting via river made Gawain’s idea of using the river’s water to cool the device much more feasible. No matter how you looked at it, water transport was the optimal choice.

In fact, even without the rainbow light device, Gawain had already been building his own naval force. After annihilating Count Peppobert’s army on the Whitewater River, he had seized a batch of southern nobles’ warships. He then assigned craftsmen and magitek engineers to modernize and refurbish those ships. He had considered building new ones from scratch, but shipbuilding was a technical art. His keyboard-warrior knowledge from his past life wasn’t enough to produce truly modern vessels, and the current world’s shipbuilding technology had suffered severe setbacks and discontinuities. The best shipwrights he could recruit could only build river ships on par with Peppobert’s fleet. So, he chose to modernize the captured warships to save time and cost, while also accumulating technical know-how.

But the ship upgrades weren’t finished yet—recently, they’d even hit a technical snag with the propulsion system.

With the battle for Rockhold Fortress imminent, Gawain didn’t have time to wait for his fleet to be fully modernized. After much thought, he decided to seek help from the territory’s resident “water transport expert.” Tyr, who called herself the “Tide Mistress,” seemed trustworthy in this regard.

Of course, being cautious, Gawain didn’t put all his eggs in Tyr’s basket. If this salty fish decided to sleep away eternity in her pool, he had a backup plan: just give Philip a few more giant cannons. How hard could it be to break through Rockhold’s gates?

No matter how strong the fortress’s magical shield was, it couldn’t withstand continuous heavy artillery bombardment forever.

After agreeing to help and repeatedly confirming there really was a little treat for her, Tyr’s excitement gradually faded. She yawned widely, her eyes growing heavy again. “So, do you guys have anything else to do? If not, I’m going back to sleep… I’ll head to the docks after I wake up.”

Gawain glanced at the sea witch slowly sinking back into the water and suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right—there is one thing. The Sons of the Storm are fighting the sea witches again. Do you know what’s going on?”

“Huh? Fighting again?” Tyr bubbled up to the surface, looking adorably puzzled. “Isn’t it just after the Constellations’ Alignment? My sisters should all be digesting on the seabed… We’re not digging up giant squids or wandering near the Sons of the Storm’s reefs. Why would those crazy humans be going nuts?”

Gawain frowned at her genuine confusion. “So you don’t know what’s happening either.”

“Of course not,” Tyr shook her head. “I’ve been right under your nose the whole time—I don’t know what’s going on in the deep sea. But come to think of it, how did you find out about this?”

“I have my own sources,” Gawain said evasively, dodging the question. Then, noticing Tyr’s indifferent expression, he asked out of curiosity, “Aren’t you worried about your homeland?”

“Nothing to worry about. Those Sons of the Storm can’t stir up much trouble. The ocean belongs to the sea witches,” Tyr said casually, yawning again. “Besides, it’s a long swim back. I’d better save my strength… When I’m feeling up to it… maybe I’ll think about going back…”

Looking at this lazy sea creature, Gawain thought she might never return in this lifetime.

He shook his head helplessly and turned to leave with Amber. Just as they reached the door, a splash came from the pool. The sea witch leaned on the edge, looking at Gawain. “Ah, I just thought of something…”

Gawain turned back. “What is it?”

“The Endless Sea is shrouded in magical storms. The ocean surface is the first place to sense changes in magic and is most affected by it,” Tyr said thoughtfully. “The Sons of the Storm have been at sea too long. Maybe… they can feel the magical tide coming.”

Gawain’s expression grew serious. After a long, solemn silence, he nodded slightly. “Thanks for the warning.”

Tyr said nothing more. She waved her hand in the water, then leaned back, flipping onto her belly with that arrogant, spoiled pose, and resumed her nap.

After leaving Tyr’s room, Amber muttered, “Magical tide, magical tide… I wish it didn’t exist. Every time someone mentions it, I get chills all over.”

“Get used to it. We were closer to the magical tide back in the day,” Gawain said calmly. “No matter how the magical tide comes, as long as people are alive, life goes on.”

“Alright, like you always say—if the sky falls, there’s someone tall enough to hold it up. You’re big enough to hold it for a long time,” Amber’s ears twitched as she pushed the magical tide out of her mind. “I’m exhausted. Nothing else today, right?”

“Nothing else today,” Gawain nodded. “But tomorrow we have business—you and I are going to the Grant Territory.”

Before the army marched out, it was time to make a grand show of “taking over” the Grant Territory.

…

Gawain’s army from Cecil marched into the Grant Territory.

With banners flying and armor gleaming, Cecil’s soldiers entered the region without resistance. They quickly raised Cecil’s flag atop the walls of Riftstone Keep, a fortress perched atop a steep cliff. Inside, the anxious stewards and retainers finally faced the “final outcome” of this “noble war”—they had a new lord over their land.

At least, that’s how it appeared to the common folk, unaware of the full truth.

Since the war that reshaped the southern borders began and the lady of the territory disappeared, a third of the people in Riftstone Keep had fled. The remaining two-thirds maintained order under the steward’s firm control—with the help of intelligence agents and the Steel Rangers secretly embedded in the castle. But beneath this relative stability, tension permeated the entire territory.

For those in the dark, news of the noble coalition’s crushing defeat was a disaster. It meant they would soon become prisoners and slaves of Cecil. Their lands would be pillaged, their wealth plundered. When and how much depended entirely on when the “furious ancestor” would have time to deal with them.

Now, it seemed that ancestor had made time.

But the plundering they feared would never come.

Armored and imposing, Gawain entered Riftstone Keep. Seeing the nervous Grant retainers and servants along the way, he couldn’t help but shake his head quietly. Ropeni Grant obviously wouldn’t reveal her secret alliance with Cecil. Most in the castle still didn’t know their lady was on Cecil’s side, and certainly didn’t expect the Cecil forces to leave their wealth untouched. Unfortunately, even now, Gawain couldn’t explain this to most of the castle’s inhabitants. He had to maintain full control over the castle and the entire Grant Territory to prevent any details from leaking after Cecil’s troops entered.

Though the traditional nobles in Rockhold Fortress had almost no intelligence network, he couldn’t allow any surprises.

This delicate tension was almost laughable.

But Gawain didn’t care much. After leading his soldiers into the city and performing some formalities, he made his way deep into the castle, to the door of a room with large windows.

The maid guarding the door had met Gawain before, but last time he was a guest. Now, standing as the “conqueror,” she was understandably nervous. She looked at him like he was an enemy, mustering what little courage she had, seemingly wanting to protect her young mistress. But that courage nearly vanished when Gawain spoke.

“Open the door,” he said. “I’m here to see Patty.”

“…Miss is resting…”

“Don’t be nervous,” Gawain smiled. “I’m a friend of Patty’s.”

The maid seemed about to say more, but the door opened from inside. Another maid who cared for Patty stepped out, looking at Gawain with some reverence. “Miss wants to see you.”

Gawain nodded. Before stepping inside, he gave the door guard an approving look. “You’re brave.”

Inside, Patty sat in her specially made chair, basking in the day’s brightest sunlight.

She looked much better than when they first met. Pittman’s treatments had clearly been effective.

“Uncle Gawain!” The little girl brightened the moment she saw him, flashing a big smile. She struggled to hold up her head and waved her only movable arm. “You came to see me!”

Gawain approached her, smiling as he bent down. “I promised I’d come.”

The little girl looked genuinely happy. This sunlit room felt like a world apart from the tense atmosphere that filled the castle outside. Here, the shadow of war seemed to vanish entirely. Patty excitedly chattered away to Gawain, and only after a long while did she finally ask, “Uncle Gawain, when will Mom come back?”

“Very soon,” Gawain said, crouching down to her level with a smile. “This time, I’m bringing her home.”

Patty’s head bobbed up and down, though she couldn’t quite control the movement smoothly. “Oh, I miss her a little.”

“You don’t seem scared at all,” Gawain said softly, reaching out to gently touch her hair. He was careful not to be too rough, afraid of hurting the child. “You know, your mom is actually fighting against me.”

“I know,” Patty replied. Then, after a brief pause, a small, sly smile appeared on her scarred face. “But… Uncle, you’re really Mom’s friend, right? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone!”

Gawain was momentarily taken aback, then let out a resigned chuckle.

He stood up, said goodbye to Patty, and left the room, stepping into the corridor.

There, the loyal middle-aged steward who had faithfully served Ropeni Grant and maintained order in the castle after the lady’s mysterious disappearance was waiting for him.

“I’ve heard from Ropeni that you’re someone to be trusted.”

(End of chapter)