Chapter 799: An Agreement Reached
Night was falling, but before darkness could fully blanket the land, the city’s artificial lights had already flickered on, pushing back the early gloom.
Street lamps stretched along the roads, and every home glowed warmly, their lights twinkling like stars fallen into this forest of steel and concrete—brilliant and dazzling.
It was as if this city never truly knew darkness.
On a terrace somewhere in the Autumn Palace, Count Dule gazed out toward the unfamiliar cityscape, murmuring with a hint of awe, “Even the most remote districts have the same number of street lamps… that must be quite an expense.”
Matilda’s voice came from nearby. “But it improves public safety, makes the city more secure. In the long run, crime rates will drop, and the cost of law enforcement will decrease.”
“…The noble council of Aldern isn’t good at thinking long-term. That’s something that definitely needs to change,” Count Dule said, turning to Matilda with a slight bow. “Are you here just to enjoy the view?”
“Just wandering,” Matilda replied lightly. “Count Dule, after a day of seeing this place, what are your impressions?”
“This is definitely a place unlike Typhon. Honestly, some aspects are so chaotic they’re frightening, yet others show a surprising order,” the count shook his head. “I still prefer Aldern—its solemnity and dignity.”
“Clearly, our understanding of ‘order’ differs from that of Emperor Gawain,” Matilda said casually, then asked, “What do you think of the Foundations of All Things? You’ve seen the drafts and parts of it, haven’t you?”
“To be honest, my first reaction was disappointment,” Count Dule admitted frankly. “Knowing the enormous cost the Cecilians paid to compile it, and how much Emperor Gawain hoped for it, I expected a grand tome filled with arcane magical secrets, profound philosophical wisdom, and brilliant linguistic artistry. Instead, the content was so shallow… and the language rather banal. But its sheer scale and breadth are truly impressive.”
Matilda studied him for a moment, then said evenly, “But it also contains parts you don’t understand—sections on typhoid and other diseases, mechanical crafts, and the unfinished volume on agriculture. As its name suggests, it’s the Foundations of All Things—a record of the basic knowledge needed to keep a society running, not just the esoteric knowledge for a select few.”
“More importantly, Emperor Gawain intends to spread this knowledge throughout the empire, making it the ‘knowledge baseline’ for all citizens. Count Dule, can you imagine what that means?”
The count pondered, then said thoughtfully, “Yes, I can… So after my initial disappointment, I understand how you felt when you saw the drafts, and why you made your demands of His Majesty.”
Matilda met his gaze. “Then, Count Dule, what’s your opinion? Do you think Typhon needs the Foundations of All Things?”
He blinked, briefly lost in thought. After a moment’s silence, he spoke with a complicated tone: “Honestly, if it’s to be spread throughout society, the Foundations cover… quite a lot.”
In a room within Cecilian Palace, Amber stared wide-eyed at Gawain. “And you just decided to send the full Foundations of All Things to Typhon?”
“Exactly,” Gawain said calmly. “And I plan to send a deluxe edition—signed by me personally.”
“Are you crazy?!” Amber’s eyes grew even wider. “That’s… how did you put it? The ‘foundation of modern society,’ meant to boost an entire generation’s competitiveness. Just handing it over to the Typhonians like that—won’t it cause problems?”
“First, once the Foundations are completed, printed en masse by the printing press, and distributed nationwide for anyone to buy, who can stop a single copy from reaching Typhon? These new printed works aren’t like old magical tomes; unless we impose a strict ban, their circulation is unstoppable,” Gawain glanced at Amber with a half-smile. “Second… do you think the Foundations will face the same reception in Typhon as they do here?”
Amber frowned, thoughtful.
Gawain shook his head gently.
“No. Because Typhon’s nobles have become the new factory owners. Their parliament is essentially a mix of capitalists and aristocrats—a group far greedier and more selfish than traditional nobles. Even if they’ve built factories like ours and started industrial machines, their core nature is different.
“Compiling a Foundations of All Things requires hundreds of scholars, experts, assistants, and a capable coordinating office. We can do it, and so can Typhon.
“But spreading it throughout society requires a strong central administration, tens of thousands of local clerks, an army capable of crushing the old nobility, and countless institutions like the General Academy and Imperial Academy, night schools, teachers, and literacy campaigns.
“Typhon has none of these. And from their perspective, our Foundations… cover far too much.”
Amber couldn’t help but frown. “Then what’s the point of sending a copy to Matilda?”
“To spread knowledge, simply for the sake of spreading knowledge,” Gawain laughed. “No hidden agenda, no schemes. I just want knowledge to be shared as widely as possible. The Foundations might end up in Rosetta Augustus’s study, or in the noble council, or in their Imperial Guilds and Mage Associations. Either way, that’s a good thing. And if by some one-in-a-million chance, Rosetta Augustus and his council decide to distribute the volumes on social studies and continental history… that’s good too.”
Amber looked thoughtful again. Gawain watched her, curious, and asked, “By the way… you’ve been paying more attention to these complicated matters lately, even discussing them with me at length. Weren’t you the one who used to get impatient with all this?”
Amber blinked, then quickly waved her hands. “I still get impatient, but your salary is just too generous…”
Gawain was speechless, then chuckled and shook his head. “Well, let’s just say that’s the reason.”
After Amber left, Gawain rose from his high-backed chair and walked to the large floor-to-ceiling window facing the Dark Mountains.
Behind him, the bright glow of magical crystal lamps pushed back the darkness that had already crept over the peaks. Above the ancient, majestic mountains, a brilliant starry sky was rising.
Suddenly, a familiar mental pulse stirred deep within his consciousness—it was Daniel’s communication request.
Gawain recognized the mental signature and, without entering a deep dream state, connected directly to Daniel’s mind on a shallow level.
“My lord,” the old mage’s respectful voice echoed in Gawain’s mind, “I have received intelligence: Pope Megor III has agreed to your terms.”
Curious, Gawain asked, “Did the archbishops hold another meeting after I left?”
“No formal meeting. Megor III and some archbishops reached a tacit understanding in advance,” Daniel reported. “Unless something unexpected happens, this will be the final outcome.”
“…Looks like the Sleepless Order has its own tangled internal politics. But Megor III’s control clearly surpasses all factions,” Gawain said, unsurprised by the factional struggles and power plays he knew well. “He’s decisive and wise. Now isn’t the time for slow meetings. He must ensure the order speaks with one voice in the short term… and that after the event, when I—the ‘Outsider’—take over, those left in the order are his chosen.”
“My lord, do you require any action from me?”
“No need. Let things unfold naturally. Megor III has seven centuries of wisdom; he’ll handle it,” Gawain said. “I only care about the Sleepless’ technology and knowledge. As for how the order develops… after I reshape it, it will naturally follow a healthy path.”
He paused, then casually asked, “How about you? After my ‘invasion’ as an Outsider, has the ‘Security Chief’ run into trouble?”
“…I was commended,” Daniel’s voice hesitated. “Though I couldn’t ‘stop’ your ‘invasion,’ the pope and most archbishops believe I at least caused you trouble and showed mortal strength… They think I accomplished what they could not, and have earned merit.”
Gawain: “…”
After a brief silence, Daniel’s voice grew more cautious. “My lord, do you think… there’s a problem?”
Gawain: “…No, no problem. Everything is fine.”
He felt a fleeting pang of guilt—had he been too harsh on the Sleepless? But then again, cultists had no rights, so he accepted the reality calmly.
Besides, as an Outsider, he couldn’t afford to appear awkward before Daniel—that would damage his image.
During their conversation, Gawain suddenly sensed something.
He smiled inwardly. “Looks like the news you mentioned is arriving sooner than I thought.”
Daniel’s voice faded. “Then I shall take my leave, my lord.”
After Daniel’s mental signature vanished without a trace, Gawain redirected his shallow consciousness to the mind network, responding to a voice calling him.
Following his intuition, he looked to his side and saw a faint, soft light suddenly materialize in the air. The glow coalesced into a crystal-encased, classical-style lantern.
Selina Gerfen, dressed in a white gown and radiating calm gentleness, held the lantern and stood beside him.
“Hello,” Gawain nodded slightly to the familiar yet strange “Lantern Saint.”
“Because I rely on dreams, I have more means of self-protection than other believers,” Selina said softly. “Contact with an ‘Outsider’ is very risky for us.”
“I understand your concerns, though I think they’re unnecessary,” Gawain smiled. “I was wondering how you would contact me without leaving ‘contact information.’”
Selina remained calm. “We can’t pinpoint your location, but we believe that as long as we call your name across the entire mind network, you will hear it—you must be monitoring the network.”
“That doesn’t sound like something to be happy about… but it’s true,” Gawain said, raising an eyebrow. “So, you’re here to tell me the Sleepless’ answer?”
“We can accept your demands,” Selina said bluntly, confirming what Gawain already knew. “Though the High Synod still needs further discussion, we can give you this reply.”
Gawain showed no surprise, maintaining his composed demeanor. “Sounds like you’re in a tight spot—good. This choice is good for everyone.”
“We still have some leverage,” Selina said suddenly. “Or rather… we want to make our position clear in advance.”
“Go on,” he urged.
“We’re willing to swear allegiance to the ‘Extradimensional Wanderers.’ We can accept the ‘assimilation’ and ‘transformation’ you mentioned—but all of it must be grounded in human laws and principles. We will not worship a new god. And if one day you choose to become a god…”
Before she could finish, Gawain cut her off. “That day will never come. But if it does, all our agreements are null and void.”
(End of chapter)