Chapter 464: The Black Trap

To be honest, when Tyr suddenly popped out of the water, Gawain was genuinely startled—sea witches like her were essentially elemental beings. This sea caterpillar monster gave off absolutely no trace of breath while submerged. Then, all of a sudden, she splashed her head above the surface. If Gawain had been holding a brick at that moment, it probably would have flown straight at her…

After steadying himself, Gawain looked at Tyr as she swam leisurely in the river. “What are you doing soaking in the river so late?”

“Where else would I be if not in the water?” Tyr replied matter-of-factly. “I’m a sea witch, a water elemental.”

“…That actually makes sense…” Gawain stroked his chin, then suddenly sensed something was off. “Wait a minute. If I’m not mistaken, you should be over at the shipyard right now, supervising the workers, shouldn’t you?”

Tyr had become the territory’s maritime technology consultant. Although she still tried to grab every possible moment to catch up on sleep, reports from her subordinates confirmed that this sea caterpillar monster was indeed diligently working at the shipyard.

Like most factories in the territory, the shipyard operated on a three-shift rotation. The craftsmen were working overtime to repair ships confiscated from the southern nobles, coping with the increasing river traffic pressure during the post-war reconstruction. At the same time, under Tyr’s guidance, they were studying sea witch navigation technology and researching how to build new types of vessels. If Gawain remembered correctly, Tyr should have been at the shipyard right now…

“Aha… I finished all the scheduled work early today. They’re currently testing the strength of several materials, which doesn’t require me to supervise closely. Besides, I’m not very familiar with the materials you land-dwellers use,” Tyr said as she swam toward the shore. The starlight shimmered on her wet hair, casting a strange glow. “So I snuck out early…”

Gawain was momentarily speechless. “So you just slipped away, huh…”

“No one noticed,” Tyr shrugged indifferently. “I secretly followed the drainage pipe and floated out.”

Gawain: “…”

Did this sea caterpillar monster really not realize she was talking to the top boss? She openly admitted to sneaking out right in front of him without a hint of guilt…

Gawain couldn’t help but grow intensely curious about the social structure and customs of the sea witches. He crouched down, watching Tyr lounge comfortably in the water. “Are all sea witches as carefree as you? Do you ever worry about anything?”

“Carefree? I don’t think so… but maybe that’s how you see us,” Tyr slapped her tail hard in the water, then suddenly leapt out, flopping onto the ground beside Gawain like a salted fish. She slapped her tail on the ground as she spoke. “Our kind… we live a long time and have seen a lot. We’ve witnessed so much that we seem different from you. Compared to us, even your so-called long-lived elves are a pretty young race… Oof, finally flipped over.”

Gawain glanced at this salted fish who took forever to right herself on land, unable to see any trace of the “ancient deep-sea race” aura or dignity. But he knew Tyr was telling the truth: as an ancient race that had witnessed season after season of civilizations rising and falling on land, these deep-sea salted fish had every right to regard any land species as mere children.

In that regard, only his own satellite spirit could rival the deep-sea salted fish.

But he wasn’t about to debate ancient credentials with Tyr. Instead, he turned his gaze to the banks of the Whitewater River, illuminated by the glow of magic crystal lamps. After a moment of silence, he asked, “You’ve lived here for over a year now. What do you think of this place?”

“It’s developing fast, the order is decent, and there are lots of strange things. It’s not exactly advanced, but your technological path still gives me some inspiration,” Tyr said, propping herself up with her tail, giving a candid assessment. “But there are also many hidden dangers, mostly caused by the rapid pace of development.”

Gawain looked at her with interest. “Like what?”

“If you don’t mind me being blunt, I’ll tell you,” Tyr flicked her tail casually. “You’re moving too far ahead, so only a handful of people can truly keep up. Most of the officials you appointed know what to do but don’t understand why. Your population and territory are expanding too fast, so the frontier regions inevitably fall into chaos. Until you train enough administrators, that chaos is unavoidable. Your army is strong but lacks real battle experience—they haven’t seen enough blood and need more trials by fire. Your territory is growing rapidly, but it will eventually slow down. When that happens, industries that rely on the dividends of rapid growth will face problems. And that’s just what I’ve noticed.”

Gawain was a bit surprised. “I didn’t expect you to observe so much in your free time…”

“I’m just lazy, not blind. I do read the newspapers—though I always end up soaking them, which is a bit troublesome,” Tyr said, glancing at Gawain. “But honestly… you already know these risks yourself, don’t you?”

“How could I not?” Gawain smiled wryly, openly admitting her points. “But even with risks, we have to keep developing. Stagnation isn’t about facing risks—it’s about national ruin.”

“You’ve already taken Rockhold Fortress, so you have a solid foundation to fix these problems. As long as you develop steadily and digest the issues, these weaknesses will gradually be patched.”

Gawain hadn’t expected this deep-sea salted fish to analyze things so seriously and discuss them so earnestly. But he knew this was Tyr’s way of showing “sincerity.” Lately, she had been visiting several research departments almost daily, even cutting into her sleep time. Clearly, the arcane energy control technology behind the “Prismatic Cannon” was crucial to the sea witches, who were stuck in a technical bottleneck. When it came to the interests of her race, even the usually lethargic Tyr could become reliable.

“I just hope there’s enough time to digest it all,” Gawain muttered softly, then asked a question out of curiosity. “There’s something I’ve always wondered—during your long observation of land civilizations, with season after season of rise and fall, has there ever been a civilization that resisted the Demon Tide?”

This was an important question. Gawain really wanted to confirm something: was the Demon Tide truly an unstoppable force for mortals?

Over the many seasons of observing the land, countless intelligent and brave races had flourished here. Were they all wiped out by the Demon Tide?

Tyr hesitated, a rare flicker of doubt crossing her face.

Gawain caught the subtle change. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Not exactly a secret, but there’s one thing we haven’t been able to verify,” Tyr said, lightly tapping the rock beneath her with her tail. “I believe you’re a rational and calm person—so I want to tell you about a phenomenon we discovered.”

Gawain’s expression grew serious as he listened quietly.

Tyr’s first words surprised him: “…Not all civilizations were destroyed by the Demon Tide. Some perished for various reasons before the Tide even arrived, and some… disappeared suddenly after surviving it. I’m talking about the true Great Demon Tide.”

According to Tyr, there were two kinds of Demon Tides. The one the Gondor Empire experienced seven hundred years ago was just a small-scale ripple. When the real Great Demon Tide comes, the entire world is turned upside down—that’s the truly unstoppable force.

Gawain’s eyes widened. “There were civilizations that survived the Great Demon Tide?”

“Yes, and more than one,” Tyr nodded seriously. “They found protective technologies against the Tide, or discovered its patterns and built safe zones in advance. One race even completed a full transformation of their lifeforms before the Tide arrived. They all survived the Great Demon Tide. We once thought those civilizations were safe… but in the end, they all suddenly vanished after the Tide ended.”

“Suddenly vanished?” Gawain sensed deeper meaning in her words. “So you don’t know why?”

“It seems to have been a massive war outbreak, but we can’t tell who they were fighting. Our observers even went ashore to investigate, but found that almost all records of those civilizations were destroyed. The few documents we found contained only the ramblings of madmen. We also observed large-scale mass suicides and ritual burials… It’s completely inexplicable.”

Gawain frowned tightly. This was something he had never considered before, but he vaguely remembered—when he was a satellite spirit watching from the sky, he had indeed seen wars raging across the continent, even conflicts capable of destroying every nation.

Though his observations were fragmented and incomplete, those images alone confirmed Tyr’s words.

It wasn’t just the Demon Tide that destroyed civilizations on the continent.

“Our ability to observe the land is limited because we’re also affected by the Demon Tide to some extent. Sea witches don’t die when the Tide comes, but our equipment is heavily disrupted. The ocean itself becomes extremely dangerous and uncontrollable. So we don’t know exactly what happens before and after the Tide. The only thing we’re sure of is this: once a civilization on land reaches a certain level, it inevitably faces an extinction-level catastrophe. There’s a bottleneck waiting for them, and it seems to appear after the Demon Tide ends.”

A bottleneck. An invisible bottleneck—or rather… a trap.

“Sounds like a trap, doesn’t it?” Tyr’s voice came from beside him, echoing his thoughts. She propped herself up on her tail and tilted her head back to gaze at the star-studded night sky. “Civilizations are like ships sailing through a dark ocean. We sea witches watch from afar, watching their lights flicker in the darkness. Some are swallowed by storms, some go out before the storms even arrive, and those lucky enough to pass through the storm zone… before we can even congratulate them, they suddenly go dark. It’s a terrifying world. In the dark ocean, there seems to be a massive whirlpool invisible to the naked eye that suddenly swallows careless sailors. So we gave this mysterious and dreadful phenomenon a name—

“We call it the ‘Black Trap,’ the trap in the dark sea.”

(End of chapter)