Chapter 604: Kindred Spirits

All along, Gawain had found it difficult to truly read the ruler of the Typhon Empire. Yet, at this very moment, as he gazed into Rosetta Augustus’s eyes—those eyes fixed on the wasteland—he felt a faint, inexplicable sense of familiarity.

After a brief moment of confusion, he realized this feeling stemmed from memories of Gawain Cecil himself, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint where or whom it corresponded to.

The monsters charging in from the plains were nearly all wiped out. Thick, black-and-red smoke billowed from their shattered, broken corpses. Only a few staggering, mutilated aberrations—missing limbs and all—still struggled forward, only to be torn apart by crossbow bolts, fireballs, and lightning bolts raining down from the city walls.

Rosetta watched silently, then suddenly broke the quiet in a low voice: “I’ve been thinking—how exactly are these creatures born? How do they sustain themselves? How do they move?”

“The origin of the aberrations is a mystery,” Gawain replied, “but multiple pieces of evidence suggest they might be mutated victims from Gondor. As for how they survive and act… I can only say it’s related to the chaotic magical energy saturating the wasteland.”

Rosetta’s expression remained unchanged, her voice steady: “Your explanation aligns with the ancient texts I’ve studied. I’ve reviewed every record concerning the aberrations, and they all say the same. Yet… isn’t it ironic?”

Gawain didn’t understand why she said that, but he figured she’d explain soon enough.

Sure enough, after a brief pause, Rosetta continued: “The first generation of pioneers summarized these theories seven hundred years ago. Now, seven centuries later, this is still all we know. When it comes to understanding the aberrations, I don’t know any more than you do.”

Gawain grasped her meaning and found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

“This place lies outside the Grant Wall,” Rosetta said, raising her hand to gesture toward the plains between the Grant Wall and the Spire Base. “In theory, monsters trapped within the Gondor wasteland shouldn’t be able to escape. Yet, in reality, this plain is always haunted by wandering monsters—sometimes just ordinary corrupted beasts, sometimes aberrations. I once sent knights to investigate where these creatures came from, but they witnessed something impossible: the monsters materializing out of thin air. They simply appeared from nowhere. How absurd.”

Gawain nodded. “High concentrations of chaotic magical energy spawn monsters—that’s a defining feature of the wasteland. But the exact mechanism remains unknown.”

“Yes, unknown. And there are many other unknowns. For example, why haven’t these spontaneously appearing monsters overrun the entire world by now? If they can’t be killed off, what limits their numbers? Why do they mostly linger around the wasteland’s edges? What restrains their range? And what differences exist between aberrations outside the Grant Wall and those inside?”

The Typhon ruler fired off a series of questions, clearly not expecting answers. When she finished, she fell silent, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

Gawain glanced toward the southwestern plains, watching as the last monster dissolved into black-and-red smoke. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he asked aloud, “Have you encountered any especially large aberrations recently?”

Rosetta Augustus snapped out of her reverie, a hint of confusion in her voice. “Especially large?”

“Yes. About two to three times the height of a normal aberration, exceptionally bulky, with magical structures on their bodies capable of unleashing powerful spell attacks. And they seem to have the ability to strengthen nearby aberrations. Most importantly, these huge individuals appear to possess some degree of intelligence.”

“Intelligence?” Rosetta’s tone finally betrayed a flicker of surprise, but she quickly shook her head. “I’ve heard of them. Winterwolf Fortress was once attacked, and Andersa mentioned those giant aberrations in her report. But we’ve never encountered them here. If they did appear… they’d be a tremendous threat. Has your camp been attacked by them?”

“No, but they once struck the Cecil homeland—I suspect they slipped out when the Grant Wall had a breach. I thought I’d face them here at the wasteland’s edge, but so far, I haven’t seen one again.”

Gawain was referring to the giant aberrations—also called “giants”—that appeared during the second defense of Cecil. Though ultimately destroyed by the city’s defenders and Rebecca’s massive fireball, their terrifying power and faint hints of intelligence left a deep impression on him.

He had expected to encounter them again once he reached the wasteland’s border, but in truth, he never saw a single one.

While ordinary aberrations frequently attacked in this area, the “giants” never reappeared.

Rosetta Augustus had never seen such enormous creatures either, and Gawain saw no reason to doubt her.

This sparked a vague suspicion in Gawain’s mind—could it be that these especially large aberrations are unique to the wasteland’s interior?

Both the Cecil and Typhon camps had only dealt with wandering monsters outside the Grant Wall, all aberrations naturally generated by the chaotic magical energy seeping out from the wasteland. The aberrations that attacked Cecil’s territory likely emerged through breaches in the Grant Wall, products of the wasteland’s depths.

He recalled Rosetta’s last question: what differences exist between aberrations outside the Grant Wall and those inside?

Could this be it? The monsters inside the wasteland “evolve,” while those outside do not?

Frowning, Gawain instinctively looked toward the distant, magnificent energy barrier connecting earth and sky. Another question arose:

Even if the giant aberrations are exclusive to the wasteland’s interior… why have the sentinels stationed at the barrier’s edge never seen them?

Aberrations inside the wasteland wander aimlessly and inevitably approach the barrier. Almost daily, sentinels at Spire Base witness hordes of aberrations roaming up to the barrier’s foot, only to be instantly vaporized by the energy it emits. Yet, in all this time, no reports of giant aberrations have surfaced.

Are they just extremely rare? Or… is something controlling them, preventing them from wandering near the barrier and being spotted by sentinels outside?

Following this line of thought, Gawain couldn’t help but wonder: were the giant aberrations that attacked Cecil territory an accident—or… intentional?

At this point, a name naturally surfaced in his mind—the only one so far linked to the Grant Wall, the Gondor wasteland, and shrouded in conspiracy:

The All-Things-Scapegoat Society.

…

In the end, Gawain found no answers at the Typhon camp.

He set off on the journey back to Cecil’s Spire Base.

The barren, corrupted wilderness slipped past the vehicle’s window. Endless winds whipped dust around the convoy. The “Iron Ambassador,” a multifunctional war machine leading the way, suddenly flared with fire as a scorching beam pierced a mutated beast attempting to approach. Gawain sat quietly inside the central magecraft vehicle, lost in thought.

Amber tore her gaze away from the desolate wasteland and glanced curiously at Gawain. “What have you been thinking about all this way?”

Gawain exhaled softly, setting aside the tangled thoughts for a moment. Then, looking at the half-elf whose eyes gleamed with curiosity, he casually asked, “What kind of person do you think Rosetta is?”

Without hesitation, Amber replied, “An old fox just like you—I mean, someone cunning and calculating.”

Gawain glanced at the half-elf, who quickly corrected herself, and shook his head slightly. “I can’t be sure how deep Rosetta Augustus’s ties to the All-Things-Scapegoat Society really are. Judging from what I’ve observed, they might just be cooperating out of mutual interest. Of course, it’s also possible that Rosetta’s acting skills are flawless.”

“When you mentioned Beltira Augustus, he acted as if he had no idea she was a high-ranking priestess of the Society,” Amber said, blinking. “If he truly didn’t know, then their cooperation might be shallow, and Beltira has completely cut ties with the old Typhon royal family. But if he was pretending not to know… then things get interesting. That would mean the Typhon royal family and the Society are definitely in cahoots.”

Gawain said nothing, but instinctively, he leaned toward believing the connection between the Typhon royal family and the Society was limited to shared interests—at least as far as Rosetta was concerned. Still, he knew such matters couldn’t be judged by “gut feeling” alone.

Silence fell again inside the vehicle, broken only by the hum of machinery and the occasional gunfire from the escort war machines as they eliminated monsters suddenly appearing on the wasteland.

After a while, Gawain finally broke the quiet with a sigh: “I don’t know why, but I keep feeling that Rosetta Augustus is a bit like me…”

No response came. Curious, Gawain looked at the half-elf beside him, only to find her staring wide-eyed in shock. After a long pause, she blurted out, “Oh my god—what did you do back then?!”

Gawain: “…”

In that instant, an almost uncontrollable thought surged through his mind: to tie this half-elf scoundrel to a pole, hoist her atop the vehicle, and parade her all the way back to camp—just hang her there!

He’d finally escaped the stubborn Rebecca, and now Amber’s head was turning just as hard!

…

At the Typhon Spire Base, beside Rosetta Augustus’s palace, a sleek, steel-forged magecraft machine stood silently in the square.

A dozen fully armed Typhon soldiers guarded the area.

Rosetta and Andersa Wendel stood beside the “magecraft vehicle,” watching the complex machinery with a hint of curiosity.

It was a gift from the Cecilians, left here as a token of their “trade agreement.”

“Truly an incredible feat of engineering and magical wonder… isn’t it?” Rosetta murmured.

Andersa frowned slightly. “But I still harbor doubts about this thing.”

“You can doubt the actions of the Ansu people, but you must respect advanced technology,” Rosetta glanced at the young wolf general, gently reminding her. “Technological progress brings great development—more production, wealth for the people, stronger armies, and a prosperous nation. Every step Typhon has taken in recent years has been built on this foundation.”

Andersa lowered her head. “Yes… Your Majesty.”

Rosetta gave a slight nod, her gaze drifting back to the magecraft vehicle as she murmured, “I never expected… that Ansu, once so thoroughly behind us, would suddenly surge ahead. The people of Cecile have found a path no one before them ever imagined. If we had discovered it any later, we might have been left in the dust by a mere duchy.”

“You seem to take the Duchy of Cecile quite seriously,” Andersa observed.

Rosetta didn’t answer immediately. After a few moments of silence, she suddenly asked, “What kind of person do you think Gawain Cecile is?”

Andersa replied candidly, “He seems generous and upright, but there’s a side to him that’s hard to read. I’ve heard many stories about the first generation of pioneers, including him, but those tales always paint him as a symbolic hero. No one ever mentions that he could be a formidable negotiator at the table.”

Rosetta glanced subtly at the so-called “Wolf General.”

Considering this general’s hostility toward the Ansu people, that was already high praise.

He gave a faint, somewhat stiff smile, his voice low and steady. “That pioneer… sooner or later, he’s bound to become Typhon’s enemy.

“Because he’s the same kind of person I am.”

(Friend’s recommendation: My Editor Is Super Fierce — a fan work by Sha Le Jitian [but not really =.=])

(End of chapter)