Chapter 8: Seeing the Light Again

Although he had spent less than a day with this so-called great-great-great-great… great-granddaughter, Gawain was left with a deeply vivid impression of Rebecca—and more than once, he wondered if the girl’s head had been clamped by something in her childhood.

Logically, that shouldn’t be the case. Even if you set aside the elite education all noble children must receive, her status as a spellcaster alone should speak to her intelligence. After all, casually conjuring a massive fireball isn’t something just anyone can do.

But at this moment, no one else had the energy to question Rebecca’s thoughtless words. Even Hetty, who was usually strict with Rebecca, now wore a look of deep concern.

“You mean… the monsters that appeared in the Cecil Domain are those same creatures from seven hundred years ago?” she asked.

Gawain sighed. “Judging by how unfamiliar you all seem with those monsters, I take it you haven’t seen them in centuries.”

“The wars against the monsters ended long ago, after the Age of Expansion,” Hetty said softly, shaking her head. “Though the history books mention them, the most recent records date back at least six hundred years. From what I’ve learned, the monsters that roamed the ruins of the ancient empire did trouble Ansu for a long time. But ever since the elves helped humans build the Sentinel Towers, those creatures have become nothing more than legends.”

Gawain frowned slightly. “Sentinel Towers… Elven constructions don’t usually fail so easily.”

“This must be reported to His Majesty the King,” Rebecca suddenly clenched her fist, her expression serious. “Monsters that vanished centuries ago have suddenly reappeared within the empire. Someone must quickly send word back. And the Cecil Domain has suffered heavy losses in this disaster—we… we must seek help from the royal family.”

Gawain thought back to his own past glories and smiled confidently. “Don’t worry. With the Cecil family’s standing in Ansu and the influence I left behind, I’m sure the city of Saint Suniel will spare no effort in helping you rebuild your lands.”

But to his surprise, instead of relief, Hetty and Rebecca’s faces twisted into something strange.

Gawain was baffled. “Uh… what’s wrong?”

Could it be that after seven centuries, the legendary founding Duke Gawain Cecil’s name no longer carried weight in this kingdom?

“Ancestor…” Hetty’s face darkened. She bit her lip several times before finally seeming to steel herself. “I wanted to tell you this back in the tomb, but… I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.”

Gawain had a vague inkling of what was coming but nodded. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“The glory of the Cecil family is no more,” Hetty said reluctantly. “Though you are still regarded as the legendary founding Duke by the kingdom, the current head of the family, Rebecca, holds only the title of Viscountess. This Cecil Domain… is the last piece of land the family still controls.”

Gawain was dumbfounded. “…What?! I distinctly remember that when I ‘died,’ I was already a Duke, and the title was hereditary without end. Our lands stretched from the Cecil Domain all the way to the Holy Spirit Plains. What on earth did the later Cecils do? Assassinate the king? Rebel?”

Hetty lowered her head in shame. “Seven hundred years is a long time. Many things have changed—both for the family and the kingdom. Ansu is no longer ruled by the First Dynasty but by the Second. The Cecil family is no longer a pillar of the crown but a disgraced house, exiled by the royal family.”

Rebecca took over from Hetty. “A hundred years ago, the last king of the First Dynasty, Darian III, died suddenly of illness without an heir. The royal family was already deeply divided, and even Darian’s own claim was disputed. After his death, the queen and regent failed to control the situation, leading to the ‘Mist Moon Turmoil.’

“Royal relatives with collateral claims fought for the throne during the Mist Moon of Ansu year 635. By the third week, palace intrigue escalated into civil war. The royal houses and their noble backers clashed openly—the Cecil family was drawn into the conflict.

“The root of the trouble was Marquis Gruman. The then Duke of Cecil was elderly but healthy, and his relationship with his eldest son, Gruman Cecil, was strained. Sensing danger, Gruman secretly plotted and joined the civil war. Lacking the authority to rally support, he set his sights on the legendary ancestor—you.”

Gawain covered his face with his hand. “I remember now—he took my shield, didn’t he?”

Hetty nodded and continued. “Gruman first placed the Duke under house arrest, then took your relic from the ancestral tomb—the Shield of Ansu, Protector of the Kingdom. He declared himself heir and backed Prince Tosh. In March of that year, Prince Tosh was assassinated. Gruman then quickly switched allegiance to Prince Fidic, who committed suicide after defeat in April.”

Gawain was speechless.

But Hetty wasn’t finished. “After that, Gruman approached one of Darian III’s uncles. Using his silver tongue, he forged an alliance. But two months later, the Northern Duke, Brun Wilde, who had stayed out of the war, suddenly presented a boy claiming to be the illegitimate son of a previous king. Using this as leverage, the Northern Duke entered the war and ended it in year 636. On the eve of the war’s end, Gruman tried the same trick—pledging loyalty to the new king—but before he could issue a statement, he was attacked by both sides on the battlefield and died under a hail of blades.

“After that came the Second Dynasty. Though, the term ‘Second Dynasty’ remains a sensitive topic even now.”

Amber, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “That whole fiasco lasted only a year but completely reshaped the kingdom’s order. Who on the continent doesn’t know that history?”

“Because the throne was taken by an illegitimate son, the war is often called the ‘Bastard War,’” Hetty said. “Many noble families were involved, and many suffered. But it was still part of noble politics. Plus, the country was in chaos at the start of the Second Dynasty, and the new king needed to restore order, which required the support of the old nobility. So most families weren’t wiped out—except…”

“Except those who fought the hardest, right?” Gawain’s lips twitched involuntarily. Even as an immortal who had watched over mortals for over a hundred thousand years, this history made him deeply uncomfortable. Life really was stranger than fiction. And that Gruman Marquis—what a prodigy of chaos. “I guess no one caused more trouble than Gruman Cecil.”

“After that, the Cecil family never recovered,” Hetty said, bowing her head. “The family’s fate could have been worse, but your reputation and the efforts of the old Duke preserved the bloodline and the last remnants of its foundation. But from then on, the name ‘Cecil’ could never again be the kingdom’s center of power, as you can see…”

Gawain followed Hetty’s gaze to the girl whose head might well have been clamped by something—Rebecca Cecil.

Rebecca noticed his look and turned her head. “Ancestor?”

“Family misfortune, family misfortune…” Gawain groaned, holding his forehead. Though he wasn’t the true progenitor of the Cecil line, the exploits and bizarre deeds of that Gruman Marquis were enough to make anyone shudder or weep. Even overhearing it was overwhelming. “And that black sheep lost my shield…”

Hetty and Rebecca exchanged a glance.

Better to keep quiet when the ancestor is cursing the great-grandfather.

Fortunately, Gawain wasn’t directly involved in these events and quickly adjusted his mood—which Hetty took as a sign of remarkable magnanimity. He shook his head slightly. “Forget dwelling on the past. It won’t help the current situation. Regardless, these monsters that have reappeared pose a grave threat to humanity. The king of Saint Suniel may ignore the fallen Cecil family, but he cannot ignore the monsters. Therefore, he must pay attention to us—survivors of this disaster.”

Hetty nodded vigorously. “You speak wisely.”

After that, Gawain lost the will to speak. The dim, cramped underground passage sapped everyone’s desire for conversation. All that remained was to quicken their pace and press onward.

Fortunately, the straight tunnel allowed them to cross the entire Cecil Domain swiftly. The nearest exit wasn’t far from the castle. After some time, Gawain judged by memory that they had reached a suitable exit.

Thanks to the blessing of the earth element, the ancient stairway hadn’t collapsed at all. It was lucky the exit wasn’t completely buried by soil and rock. After clearing away some roots, vines, and loose dirt blocking the way, fresh air finally brushed each face—a long-awaited breath of freedom.

Back into the light of day.

Byron the knight led the soldiers leaping out first. Once they sent a signal that the area was safe, the others followed in order. Rebecca climbed out and immediately took a deep breath, then whispered joyfully, “We’re out!”

Gawain followed her to the surface, his excitement no less than hers—perhaps even greater.

A vast open sky.

His first instinct was to look up.

Unfortunately, it was night outside.

But he was grateful for the darkness—it allowed him to see the alien stars of this world for the first time.

A faint glow appeared on the horizon. The coming dawn made the stars seem sparse and dim, each one veiled in a misty haze, distant and ethereal.

Completely unfamiliar constellations.

The white light on the horizon grew steadily brighter. Night was ending; dawn was breaking. Every survivor who had escaped from the underground tunnel was immersed in the joy of having survived. Gawain, however, felt a strange thrill as he faced the rising sun of this new world. He spread his arms wide, as if to embrace it.

Then he saw it: an unprecedentedly huge, glowing arc, misty and radiant, slowly rising above the horizon, bathing the world in its light.

That was not the sun.

(End of chapter)