Chapter 720: The Whitefrost Twins
Veronica’s explanation left Gawain somewhat puzzled.
“A single individual?” He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that?”
Veronica’s eyes clouded with a trace of memory, as if she had sunk deep into ancient recollections from a thousand years ago. After a few moments of contemplation, she spoke softly and gently: “You probably already know that during the Rebellion Project a millennium ago, the Whitefrost sisters were hired as consulting scholars by the Kingdom of Gondor… This employment lasted for centuries, right up until the Great Sundering seven hundred years ago. Both Filna Whitefrost and Leylna Whitefrost secretly served Gondor during that time.
“The first time I met them was in the Vast Palace of the Imperial Capital… a Druidic facility dedicated to studying natural environments and species evolution. They were a pair of very cheerful sisters. What impressed me most was their constant laughter—they were endlessly curious about everything in the human world and had many bold ideas, quite unlike the typically conservative and rigid elven scholars…
“Sorry, I’m rambling. When I get lost in memories, I tend to recall too many irrelevant details.”
Veronica gave a faint apologetic smile. Gawain shook his head, signaling her to continue.
“They were indeed two sisters, as I said. At the beginning, they were two separate individuals—until that accident…
“That was during the early phase of the Rebellion Project, when we were just beginning to analyze and make contact with divine power. It was called Phase One. In one experiment, we tested a method never before attempted: opening a rift in a highly sealed chamber that led to the boundary of the mortal realm. This rift crossed the Shadow Realm and the Phantom Realm, approaching infinitely close to the Divine Kingdom at a critical point. Our hope was to monitor the Divine Kingdom through this rift to some extent…
“Looking back, it was a reckless and audacious attempt, but at the time, our understanding of divine power was far from clear.
“This dangerous experiment required two operators: one to maintain the rift, the other to conduct observations. Yes, you guessed it… the Whitefrost sisters.
“They volunteered willingly, and their reasoning was irrefutable: as twins, they shared an extraordinary bond, which could greatly increase the experiment’s success rate. If anything went wrong, they could respond swiftly without needing to communicate, their reaction times far faster than ordinary researchers.
“I personally escorted them into the lab… I watched them enter, and then the entire chamber sealed itself under the control of the automated system.
“Not even the most powerful mages could penetrate the defenses to see inside.
“When the countdown ended, the lab reopened, filled with thick smoke and chaotic magical currents. I led a team inside, only to find the lab in ruins. Amid the wreckage… lay one badly wounded elf, while the other was nowhere to be found.”
Veronica’s voice remained calm as she finished her account. Gawain couldn’t help but knit his brows. “Who disappeared? Who survived?”
“I don’t know.”
Gawain raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“The sisters looked almost identical; outsiders could hardly tell them apart. The lab was a mess, and the identification cards on the injured were badly burned. So no one knew who had survived.”
Gawain shifted in his seat. “Then what happened to them afterward?”
“The survivor snuck out of the infirmary one day and returned to the Druidic lab they had built together. Three days later, the ‘Whitefrost sisters’ returned to the Vast Palace. Subsequent reports showed a large amount of biomass missing from their lab… but everyone guessed what it was for.”
“She made herself a…” Gawain’s understanding clicked into place. “And then? You just accepted that?”
“The Whitefrost sisters were back—or at least, that’s what they claimed. They appeared normal, and though everyone knew better, we welcomed their return.”
Gawain’s surprise was evident. “But her mental state was clearly compromised. Didn’t you notice?”
“That was obvious,” Veronica said with a faint smile, her tone calm but her words chilling. “Among the Rebellion members, especially those on the front lines, such mental issues were hardly a problem. We were fighting gods, standing before unfathomable and infinite knowledge. We were on the edge of an abyss, constantly brushing past countless deadly and invisible truths. Sometimes, a careless glance at the wrong sample or a slip of the tongue at the wrong moment would drive someone mad, cause disappearances, or mutations leading to death…
“Before we understood the patterns, we lost hundreds, even thousands of lives. Many died silently, their deaths unrecorded, unhonored. Many descended into permanent madness, and because they held divine knowledge, they were confined in mental control facilities.
“Even myself… As a former Gondorian, have you ever heard the name Ophelia Norton in any royal history book?
“In such extreme circumstances, every member who remained functional was invaluable.
“Compared to the worst cases, the Whitefrost sisters only suffered mild delusions… at least back then.”
Gawain was at a loss for words. From a normal perspective, it was hard to imagine allowing someone with clear mental instability to continue working on such a dangerous project. The project itself was already madness incarnate, requiring even stronger sanity to withstand it. Yet…
Mortals are so fragile that sometimes madness is the only way to fight madness. It’s not a choice, but a necessity.
He trusted that Veronica and her team had thought this through carefully. Perhaps they determined the sisters’ mental issues wouldn’t affect their work, or that their contributions outweighed the risks. Whatever the case, these were decisions made a thousand years ago. Neither he nor Veronica—Ophelia herself—could judge those choices now.
He could only sigh in hindsight: “Maybe she only had mild delusions back then, but now… or rather, they have become ghosts of the Rebellion Project.”
“Everyone involved in Phase One was on a countdown to madness,” Veronica said softly. “We openly discussed it because we all knew most wouldn’t live to see the results—madness, death, or disappearance into strange supernatural phenomena. Even if they survived, human lifespans meant most wouldn’t last beyond Phase Two… but elves live too long.”
Veronica sighed quietly.
“Perhaps it was the length of survival, or the endless hopelessness, but the Whitefrost sisters eventually lost control. Unfortunately… I don’t even know which of ‘them’ is Filna or Leylna anymore.”
“I have a feeling we’ll cross paths with those ‘sisters’ again,” Gawain shook his head. “Such persistent ghosts never truly rest.”
“Perhaps,” Veronica pressed her lips together. “Besides that, any other findings?”
“Technology—the End of All Things’ technology,” Gawain said. “We recovered massive amounts of technical data from that underground palace, along with complete lab equipment, various samples, prototypes, and specimens. These will be transported in batches to Pittman’s research facility soon. But we all know there’s more than just Druidic knowledge in there…”
“I understand,” Veronica lowered her eyelids. “I will assist in identifying and analyzing the Rebellion technology. If any dangers arise, I will alert you immediately.”
Gawain nodded approvingly. After a brief silence, Veronica suddenly looked him in the eye and asked, “Once the dangers are ruled out, what do you plan to do with the ‘results’ of the End of All Things?”
Gawain glanced at her and smiled faintly. “Of course, we’ll use them.”
“Even if they were created by the End of All Things?”
“Technology is technology. If it’s useful, we’ll use it. Only people can be criminals. Judging tools is pointless,” Gawain said. “Those flesh magic techniques used to create monsters are chilling, but if applied to healing the wounded, they could be invaluable.”
“But some might harbor resentment, even secretly criticize you for using dark magic. The ignorant always fear what they don’t understand. Over a thousand years, the world has changed in many ways, but prejudice and conservatism remain constant.”
Gawain and Veronica exchanged a glance and suddenly laughed.
“Of course, such people will always exist. It’s easier to blame failures on inanimate things than admit one’s own incompetence or ignorance. But that’s fine—ignorant people can be taught, shown the truth. Those who refuse or cause trouble, we’ll set rules and write contracts. I’ll grant them exemption from accessing the technologies and derivatives excavated from the Solinburg ruins. After all… in the early stages of new technology adoption, our social resources are limited. If some choose to isolate themselves from new tech, why not honor their loyalty to conserving resources?”
“…I admire your approach.”
Veronica left, and the study fell silent. Gawain exhaled, stretched, and prepared to return to work.
Just as he picked up a document on the desk, a faint breeze swept past the window.
The next moment came a loud thud as someone crashed hard against the window frame.
Given how routine this had become, Gawain felt no surprise or irritation. He simply stood, opened the window, and let in a dazed Amber.
Amber landed and immediately started complaining, “Why do you lock the windows during the day like this?”
Gawain’s expression was blank. “It’s getting cold. Old people get chilly.”
Amber: “…”
“What’s the emergency?” After successfully shutting down Amber’s protest, Gawain’s mood improved slightly and he asked seriously.
Though Amber’s window-jumping was standard procedure, there were different styles and situations:
Carefully checking for traps and locks before climbing in was routine, usually for non-urgent reports; rushing in and accidentally triggering traps indicated a normal emergency, often requiring immediate attention; but crashing headfirst into a locked window frame like this was rare—Gawain had only seen it twice before—
The first time was to report the assassination of Francis II; the second was to report that Rebecca’s experimental flying machine malfunctioned and fell, killing Tyr.
Hearing Gawain’s question, Amber forgot about her earlier embarrassment and, catching her breath, spoke rapidly: “Rebecca’s flying machine…”
Before she could finish, Gawain frowned. “That unlucky sea hag got Tyr killed again? It’s fine, you know she can revive…”
“No way!” Amber practically jumped up, her short, stocky face lighting up with excitement. “It’s flying! This time, it actually flew!”
She took a deep breath, then added, “And it landed smoothly—right side up!!”
(End of chapter)