Chapter 49: Questions and Answers

Even after putting the crystal back away, Gawain could still “see” in his mind’s eye that overhead image—like some kind of energy-based scan. But he quickly figured out how to turn it off: as long as he consciously shifted his attention away from the view to something else, the image would fade on its own. And to bring it back, all he had to do was will it.

No crystal power was needed for this anymore.

It seemed a mental link had been established, controlled purely by thought and intention. The crystal’s role was probably just as a key—or maybe a catalyst.

Sitting at his desk, Gawain looked over the questions he’d written down and began sorting through his thoughts, trying to answer them.

Based on his own memories and the recent events, it was clear that the changes in the “sun” above were directly connected to the magical tides on the surface. Whenever a sunspot appeared, magical energy surged on the land, and the elemental forces became more active. The so-called Dark Magic Tide was essentially a massive, chaotic outburst of magic—an elemental avalanche spiraling out of control and corrupting the physical world. The monsters that appeared during these elemental storms were still a mystery, but for now, they could be considered a secondary effect of the elemental chaos.

The inhabitants of this world were familiar with sunspots and magical surges; these were natural phenomena—irregular but not rare. So Gawain boldly hypothesized that the essence of the magic tide was simply a surge of magical energy crossing some critical threshold. When the world’s magic amplification reached a certain limit, the stable order of the elements would break down, triggering a magic tide.

But what role did the sun play in all this?

Did the sunspots cause the magic surges? Or were they not cause and effect, but two sides of the same event?

Gawain paused and added a new question to his notes: What exactly is the sun?

It was definitely a gas giant—at least according to the “monitoring data”—but it was clearly very different from the gas giants Gawain knew from his home world.

On his home world, gas giants didn’t emit light or heat. Though they contained vast amounts of nuclear fuel and emitted some radiation, they never reached fusion ignition. They were like unlit furnaces, cold and inert. But this world’s “sun” clearly provided light and warmth to the land.

So was it “lit”? Or did the laws of this world differ so much that it had unique properties?

Gawain leaned toward the second explanation. The sunspots and magic surges kept reminding him that the physical rules here were completely unlike those back home. Sticking to fixed assumptions would only lead to dead ends.

He also ruled out the first guess for another reason: if the giant sun really was a fusion-powered gas giant, it would be a star. Given its size and the nearly blue-white color of its surface, the heat it emitted should be enough to incinerate the planet beneath it.

Writing down his conclusion, Gawain noted: The “sun” is a gas giant with unusual properties. Its activity influences surface magic, likely through some kind of catalytic energy radiation. The appearance of sunspots may indicate increased energy output, but without reliable detection methods, this remains uncertain.

Next question: What exactly is the “monitoring satellite”?

It could be a relic of an ancient civilization, or perhaps an outpost left by extraterrestrials. Whoever built it must have been incredibly advanced—at least advanced enough not to fear the magic tides. The satellite could leisurely observe the chaos from space during a magic tide, which spoke volumes about the technological gap.

But where was that civilization now?

Gawain considered that the satellite he’d come through was badly damaged, and no maintenance crew had come to fix it. So he guessed boldly: either the civilization was gone, or they had moved on and no longer cared about this place.

Of course, there was a slim chance some rich big shot was just burning money and replacing satellites like napkins, but Gawain didn’t take that seriously.

Either way, the satellite was on its last legs, and no super-advanced civilization was coming to “discipline” him anytime soon. That was good news. But then again, if those super-advanced folks could solve the magic tide problem and weren’t coming, that was really bad news…

As for the satellite’s function, it was probably designed to monitor magical fluctuations.

Gawain recalled the second type of overhead view he’d seen (he called the clear satellite images from the past “Type One” views). The second type was overlaid with color filters across the land, likely representing magical fluctuations. The synchronized color changes during magic surges supported this idea. So the satellite was essentially an early warning system for magic tides.

At least, “early warning” was one of its functions.

But the satellite was in bad shape. No matter what commands Gawain sent, he couldn’t adjust the images, and interference and shaking kept appearing. It was a clear sign—the system was nearing its end.

That left one final question: Why had the ancient Gawain Cecil left behind this crystal seven hundred years ago?

He still didn’t fully understand the crystal’s properties, but he’d confirmed it could reconnect him to the monitoring station in the sky. So was it useful to others?

If so, what had the old Gawain used it for? Was it also to get a satellite’s-eye view?

Hmm… That actually made a lot of sense. The most formidable pioneer knights of old, leading refugees through magic tides and monsters, pulling off near-impossible escapes and founding new kingdoms—they probably had a full-map hack.

But guessing wasn’t enough. He needed to test it.

Holding the intact crystal, Gawain pondered how to test it. It was a secret, so he couldn’t just hand it to anyone. Though the locals probably wouldn’t understand the overhead thermal-like view, he worried that some brilliant mind might deduce the truth from the images.

He needed someone reliable, someone who wouldn’t cause chaos even if they succeeded immediately.

His worries were probably overblown. Most people here wouldn’t even conceive of satellites coming to life or reborn as spirits. If they saw a big map, they’d probably just think, “Wow, this thing’s a magic artifact with eagle eyes at level 10,000.” But Gawain’s mind hadn’t fully adjusted to this world yet.

After some thought, he looked up at Miss Amber, who was standing by the desk, lost in thought.

The half-elf girl shivered and turned to see Gawain staring at her intently. Goosebumps rose on her skin. “W-what are you going to do?! You’re finally showing your noble nature and planning to attack your own guard, aren’t you?!”

No way. She was disobedient, unreliable, and mischievous. Letting her test it would be a disaster.

Gawain quickly dropped the idea. Just then, someone came in to report that Rebecca had returned from scouting the land.

His face lit up. “Send her in right away!”

Rebecca hurried into the tent, having run most of the day, but showed no sign of fatigue—on the contrary, she was full of energy. Thinking Gawain wanted a report, she quickly said, “Ancestor! You wouldn’t believe how much good land there is nearby—I thought the Dark Mountains would be barren and useless, but following your map, I actually found…”

“Not now,” Gawain interrupted with a wave, handing her the crystal. “I have something else for you.”

He smiled at his N+1-times great-granddaughter, feeling she was the complete opposite of Amber—obedient, reliable, and a bit slow on the uptake.

Rebecca blinked, taking the crystal, unsure what the old ancestor wanted. “And then?”

Gawain thought carefully about how he’d connected to the satellite before and began instructing her: “Now, imagine you’re very high up—higher than the clouds. There’s something up there that can look down on the land. Try to establish a connection with it.”

Rebecca blinked. “Oh, you mean the Eye of Mysteries?”

The Eye of Mysteries was a mage’s concept. They believed every gifted magic user had a pair of eyes floating high above the world, immersed in the “Aether Sea,” observing the flow of magic and the world’s essence. The quality of these eyes determined a mage’s talent. Mages couldn’t perceive these eyes directly, but their souls could subconsciously. Meditation was the process of communicating with these eyes.

Gawain shook his head. “No, higher than the Eye of Mysteries. More concrete. Something real, like a magical artifact.”

Rebecca tried hard but gave a sheepish smile. “I don’t see anything.”

Gawain tried several different ways to guide her, but the crystal remained unresponsive.

Looks like the old Duke Gawain Cecil’s full-map hack can’t be confirmed after all.

(End of chapter)