Chapter 570: A Heart-to-Heart

Compared to dealing with the Ansu nobles in Saint Suniel, Sonia clearly preferred Gawain’s straightforward style.

As she recounted her recent experiences in Ansu, a hint of frustration crept into her voice. “We were held up in the north for a whole month… Over forty of those sixty days were wasted listening to nobles dodge responsibility and debate pointless matters. By comparison, the so-called ‘rebels’ in the Eastern Territories were more efficient than the nobles in the capital, but even then, a lot of time was lost.”

“The kingdom belongs to the king, but the fiefs belong to the nobles themselves. They must protect their own interests, so when it comes to matters affecting the entire realm, their efficiency plummets,” Gawain shook his head with a weary smile. “I expected as much.”

“It’s nothing like it was back then…” Sonia sighed softly. “At least that girl Victoria still carries some of her ancestors’ spirit.”

“Victoria Wilde, you mean?” Gawain murmured, turning to Sonia. “What’s your impression of her?”

Sonia paused briefly. “She’s hardworking, but exhausted. She hides it well, but I can see through it. She’s talented—almost on par with Snow—but still not enough to handle the current chaos. I can tell she’s overwhelmed by this fractured kingdom; her true potential is buried beneath endless delays and infighting.”

“Right to the point.”

“As an envoy of the Silver Empire, I shouldn’t judge Ansu too harshly. But as a comrade from seven centuries ago, I have no reason to hold back with you,” Sonia said frankly. “We’ve met the prince from the Eastern Territories who claims he wants to restore Ansu, and also the nobles and protector dukes loyal to the traditional monarchy in Saint Suniel. Honestly, many of them are capable leaders—but I doubt any of these leaders, mired in their own quagmires, can truly bring the country back on track. You were the one who laid the foundation of this kingdom’s order. Are you content to stay in the southern lands and watch all this unfold?”

The question was sharp, almost too blunt for any human politician to voice. But Gawain knew the elves’ style—they were always direct. The fact that Sonia prefaced it as a private conversation was already her way of softening the blow.

The room fell silent for a moment before Gawain smiled and shook his head gently. “You know the tree near the Ancestor’s Peak? The one called the Tree of Revival?”

“…After a hundred years, it withers rapidly, becoming dry and flammable, just waiting for a wildfire. Then, vast groves of these trees turn to ash, and new saplings sprout from the ashes,” Sonia whispered. “It’s a risky cycle.”

“Survival itself is a risk,” Gawain said calmly. He looked up at the holographic projection cast by the scroll-like magical device on the table.

The hologram clearly displayed the structure of part of the Grant Wall in southern Ansu. Two sentinel towers glowed with bright blue light in the translucent schematic.

“Two sentinel towers, to be constructed simultaneously, right?”

“Yes,” Sonia nodded. “One near the southeast of Ansu, just south of the Dark Mountains—we hope you’ll take charge of that one. The other is in the southwest; Duke Bertram Franklin has confirmed he’ll send a team to handle that tower, led personally by his nephew. Officially, both teams will be under your command.”

“Will personnel and materials be in place before the Frost Moon arrives?”

“Saint Suniel and the Eastern Territories have promised to share the material burden. Duke Bertram Franklin will provide manpower for the southwestern tower,” Sonia confirmed. “As for the southeast tower, we hope the southern lands will take responsibility.”

“Of course, that’s no problem,” Gawain agreed immediately. “Using only our own people will save me a lot of trouble.”

What Sonia conveyed was clearly the result of negotiations and compromises between the Eastern Territories and the royal court. Under this plan, the East and the crown would bear the material costs, but only the Western Duke would provide manpower—an obvious strategy.

They wanted to maintain the scale of the standoff on the Holy Spirit Plains and keep the reserve forces at a certain level.

The West was far from the frontline and not a source of troops for this civil war. Its proximity to the southwestern tower made it a natural choice to supply manpower.

“We aim to complete this project within two years—at most two years,” Sonia said. “Ideally, within one year. According to our records, the magical energy surges in the wasteland fluctuate significantly every two to three years. The last overload was caused by such a surge. To ensure safety, we must finish the reinforcements before the next surge hits.”

Gawain’s expression grew serious. “I believe everyone will do their utmost. After all, their lives depend on it.”

“Let’s hope so.”

With the discussion about the Grant Wall mostly concluded, Sonia packed away the magical device containing the technical data and handed it casually to Solderin nearby. “This information is for you. Before the materials and personnel arrive, your mages can start studying it. Among the people I brought is a mage who worked on the ‘sub-towers’ and ‘pressure relief points.’ If you have any questions, feel free to ask him.”

Gawain nodded at Solderin, then exhaled deeply. He glanced at Sonia and asked casually, “By the way, it’s been over seven centuries since Belsethia’s coronation… She must have grown into a capable queen by now, right?”

“Her Majesty is an excellent queen. You’d be surprised if you saw her now.”

Gawain chuckled. “I still remember her dragging me around the camp as a kid… And now she sits on the throne?”

“That’s the queen’s duty,” Sonia said earnestly. “She passed the test six hundred years ago and became the rightful ruler. She’s done well—the Starry Sanctuary still sails the skies over the Silver Empire today.”

“That floating sanctuary that never touches the ground…” Gawain’s eyes softened with memory. “I was lucky enough to visit once, when the nations were forging alliances. The sanctuary sailed near Ancestor’s Peak… That was probably the first time it left the southern continent, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, and the only time,” Sonia said, her gaze tinged with nostalgia. “Since then, the sanctuary’s activities have been mostly confined to the Silver Empire and the Highland Kingdom… Recently, its patrol range has shrunk even further, limited to the eastern Highland Kingdom.”

“You still haven’t solved the power aging problem?”

Seven centuries ago, Gawain had close ties with the elves, and much about the Starry Sanctuary wasn’t a secret here. Sonia sighed in response. “We tried to repair it once… but it barely helped.”

“…That ancient system is said to be the work of the primordial elves from the ancient era. But their civilization scattered as the elven races diverged, lost to history. The Silver Elves’ heritage is the most complete among all elves, yet even they can’t fully understand the sanctuary’s mysteries,” Gawain said with a hint of melancholy. “I still remember how Belsethia looked the first time she told me about all this.”

Back then, Belsethia had just been crowned. Though called the Silver Queen, she was still a carefree girl at heart. Only when speaking of the sanctuary’s secrets and the lost legacies of the primordial elves did she show a serious, somber side.

Gawain and Sonia talked at length.

From their brief alliance seven centuries ago, to the building of the Grant Wall, from the rise and fall of the human kingdoms over the centuries, to the development of the Silver Empire during that time—even for long-lived elves, the passage of time was staggering. So much had changed since those days.

At last, Gawain ended their conversation. He stood and extended his hand to Sonia. “You’ve had a long journey. Rest early tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll arrange a tour of this city for you. Cecil City should hold many surprises.”

Sonia took his hand politely and stood, smiling. “This city has already given us many surprises. Even this land has opened our eyes—we saw many fascinating things from the sky.”

“You’ll have time to explore them all,” Gawain said, glancing at Solderin. “But for now, I’ll leave you two alone. After all, it’s been seven centuries since you last met. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on.”

In this relatively private moment, Sonia couldn’t help but glance at Solderin. “A son who hasn’t been home in seven centuries—I don’t even know what to say to him.”

Solderin looked awkward. “Mother, I… I have official duties here…”

Sonia gave the high-ranking ranger a sharp look. “You’ve had official duties for seven centuries straight?”

Solderin was speechless.

The ranger glanced at Gawain with a pleading look. Gawain immediately understood the silent message and said to Sonia, “Then I won’t disturb your reunion any longer. Lady Sonia, see you tomorrow.”

With that, Gawain and his entourage headed for the door.

Even after the door closed behind them, Gawain lingered outside, listening faintly to the sounds from the room. Sonia’s voice, tinged with reproach, drifted through: “…Seven centuries without coming home is one thing, but so little communication? And now, even the sentinel tower’s comms chain is down…

“…It’s just about your hair, isn’t it? Where did you get that stubborn temper from…

“Do you have a girlfriend? No? You know the Wind Valley’s XXX already has kids!!

“What do you mean ‘building a career with Duke Cecil’? Duke Cecil isn’t married? Look at him—he’s got great-great-grandchildren by now!!”

Gawain quietly withdrew his attention from the room. Beside him, Rebecca couldn’t help but lean in. “Ancestor! How do you know Lady Sonia? Is she really Mr. Solderin’s mother? She looks so young!”

The young woman had been holding back all this time and finally had a chance to chatter.

“Elven age can’t be judged by appearance. Their growth and aging cycles differ from humans,” Gawain said casually. “As for how I know Sonia… She was the Silver Empire’s envoy, responsible for communication between the empire and various expedition forces. Because of the turmoil, we fought side by side.”

Nearby, Hetty sighed softly. “The bond of comrades…”

To be honest, at that moment, the steward of Cecil House couldn’t help but think of her treasured book, The Romances of Gawain Cecil—Stories of Heroes and Princesses—and her mind wandered to all sorts of fanciful notions.

Gawain caught the change in Hetty’s expression instantly and guessed what she was imagining.

He thought for a moment and decided to steer her attention elsewhere—

“Hetty…”

Heddy was startled. “Ah? Ancestor, please go ahead!”

“Have you ever thought about getting married?”

“Ah?!”

“Honestly, converting to the faith and giving up your inheritance isn’t that big a deal. You’re not exactly young anymore…”

“Ancestor, wait a moment! I…”

“Don’t be nervous, I’m just asking. But if you have any thoughts on the matter…”

Gawain’s way of changing the subject worked perfectly.

(End of chapter)