Chapter 846: My Path Is Not Alone

Aldern, Obsidian Palace.

On a rare clear day, sunlight pierced through the thin mist that usually blanketed the entire Aldern region. Brilliant rays streamed from the horizon, filtering through the sparse, pale clouds and slanting gently into the palace courtyard.

Inside the palace’s ground-floor flower hall, a servant opened the window facing the courtyard. A fresh morning breeze drifted in lazily through the bushes outside. Rosetta Augustus sat on a bench by the window, half her face bathed in sunlight, as if gilded with a faint glow.

“Hadrian sent word—he came up empty at the Throat of Orlandel,” Rosetta said, lifting her gaze to Mathilda, who sat opposite her. “He happened to be inspecting factories nearby, yet still couldn’t tell when the Sleepless withdrew.”

“If a secret organization has operated within our empire for seven centuries, then when they decide to vanish quietly, it’s only natural that we wouldn’t detect or intercept them immediately,” Mathilda replied, sitting upright across from her father. Golden chains dangled from her hair, catching the light in tiny flickers by her cheek. “I just never imagined Gawain Cecil was behind it all…”

Rosetta glanced at Mathilda. “Judging by the timeline, the Sleepless Order’s sudden evacuation coincided exactly with the days you stayed in Cecil City.”

Mathilda frowned, a mix of regret and shame crossing her face. “Yes… I was near Gawain Cecil then, but I didn’t notice a thing…”

Rosetta’s expression remained calm. “If even someone like you, a young woman, could easily uncover his secret, then he wouldn’t be the Emperor of Cecil—and Typhon could rest easy.”

“Gawain Cecil’s secret…” Mathilda murmured, then looked up. “Father, the secret of the ‘Wanderers Beyond the Veil’ could undermine his authority. If he’s no longer truly ‘Gawain Cecil,’ then the support he gained from his reputation as a pioneering hero would surely falter. And his ties to the Sleepless—couldn’t that also be used against him?”

Rosetta raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing in her eyes. “I recall you recently said he was a kind and generous elder, and that your conversations with him taught you much.”

“…I don’t deny I respect him to some extent, whether or not he’s truly ‘Gawain Cecil,’” Mathilda answered seriously. “But in the end, he’s still our adversary, isn’t he?”

“…Mathilda, you’re growing up,” Rosetta said softly, watching her daughter for a moment, a smile tugging at the corners of her eyes. “But not enough yet. You’re mistaken about some things.

“Our so-called ‘adversary’ did indeed gain support when he rose in the southern lands by using the name ‘Gawain Cecil.’ But when he claimed the throne, it wasn’t that name that put him there. And it’s not that name that keeps him ruling the empire.”

Mathilda blinked, caught off guard. “Then what does he rely on…”

“His army, of course. And the bureaucracy he’s painstakingly built, my child,” Rosetta said with a sudden laugh. “You’re usually not this slow to catch on—did you really not think of that?”

Mathilda’s face flushed slightly. “I…”

“It’s alright. You’re still young,” Rosetta shook her head with a smile. “Like I said, what puts an emperor on the throne isn’t just a ‘good reputation.’ Sure, a good name matters—it makes your crown look better and your reign more comfortable. But the real keys to staying there are military power and political control. Unfortunately for us, Gawain Cecil holds both tightly.

“If he lost control of the army and social order, we wouldn’t even need to act. The countless remnants of the old Ansu era would rise up, calling him a usurper, and his ‘resurrection’ would be branded a devil’s conspiracy.

“But if he keeps a firm grip on the military and social order, no matter how many secrets are exposed, it will be dismissed as slander from ‘malicious reactionaries and schemers.’ His ‘resurrection’ will remain a miracle—perhaps even a divine one when needed.

“And considering his effective methods of controlling public opinion and winning hearts, child, do you really think mere rumors about ‘evil spirits rising’ could shake Gawain Cecil’s rule? From the day he returned, such rumors have never ceased. What effect have they had?”

Mathilda adopted a humble, attentive expression, listening carefully to Rosetta’s words. When he finished, she asked, “But… it’s still a very important leverage point, isn’t it? For us, this ‘secret’ is a significant windfall.”

“Indeed, an important leverage point… but one that can’t do much,” Rosetta nodded gently. “And as you said, this windfall was purely accidental. So if we want to use it, we mustn’t do it ‘ourselves.’ It’s not worth the risk. Gawain Cecil and his intelligence apparatus are surely prepared to counter any public relations attack. One misstep, and our losses would outweigh his. Also, don’t expect miracles. Like your swordsmanship lessons taught you, there’s no single move that wins against a strong enemy. Advantages build slowly, and often what we gain is just time to build those advantages.”

Mathilda listened quietly, her face thoughtful. She heard her father’s meaningful tone as he said, “Mathilda, ruling an empire requires more than iron will and swift action. More often, it demands patience and caution.”

She nodded instinctively, then suddenly realized something and looked at Rosetta wide-eyed. “Father, you…”

“I mean nothing else,” Rosetta said quietly, then abruptly changed the subject. “Actually, if our intelligence is correct, we might even owe Gawain Cecil a favor.”

“Owe him a favor?” Mathilda asked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Since late in the Frost Moon, have you had nightmares?” Rosetta asked.

“Only twice,” Mathilda thought for a moment, answering seriously despite not fully understanding. “The curse’s power had increased before, but after late Frost Moon, it returned to normal… maybe even weakened. My nightmares have gotten shorter.”

“The curse haunting our family comes from the Throat of Orlandel, from the ruins of the old imperial capital. And now we know those fallen dream priests haven’t left that place in two centuries. They’ve been deep in those ruins, studying forbidden things. Lord Bormair’s intelligence indicates it was the Sleepless’ own research that triggered a divine-level catastrophe. That’s why they had to seek help from the ‘Wanderers Beyond the Veil.’ And the timeline matches the recent fluctuations in the curse’s power.”

Mathilda’s eyes grew serious.

“According to the royal advisors, if the disaster caused by those dark priests had erupted, the entire Augustus family would have suffered immense losses. But it never did,” Rosetta said slowly, watching Mathilda’s reaction closely. “Gawain Cecil has his own reasons. His help wasn’t free, but in fact, we owe him a favor.”

Mathilda’s expression turned strange, unsure how to respond. After a few seconds of silence and thought, she shook her head. “Favors can be repaid with favors. The empire’s interests are different.”

“That’s your best answer today,” Rosetta said, his stern expression softening. “Go on with your own affairs—you must be tired of listening to your old father ramble.”

“Talking with you always teaches me a great deal,” Mathilda said, standing and bowing deeply. “I’ll take my leave now, Father.”

Rosetta waved gently as Mathilda left the sunlit, flower-scented hall.

Silence settled in the room, broken only by the bright morning light accompanying the aging Rosetta Augustus. The ruler of Typhon sat quietly for a moment, then slowly shifted his gaze to the round table before him.

A finely printed, gold-embossed book lay there, basking in the rare Aldern sunshine.

It was a gift Mathilda had brought back from Cecil—given by the man known as “Gawain Cecil” himself.

“You’re truly fortunate,” Rosetta murmured with a soft smile, reaching for the book. “All of Aldern has cleared the skies to welcome you.”

His eyes scanned the neat lines of text—

“…A nation is an ordered collective, a union of people and land bound by shared cultural identity and common interests…

“Maintaining social stability and development is one of the fundamental missions of the ruling class…”

In the quiet hall, only the sound of turning pages remained.

After a long moment, a sigh filled with complex emotion escaped Rosetta’s lips. “I understand what you’re trying to say…”

…

“Sir Gorosh, Lady Asalina, I hope you are comfortable in the Autumn Palace,” Gawain said with a smile in the audience chamber of Cecil Palace, looking at the Dragonborn ambassadors. “Our knowledge of the customs in the Holy Dragon Principality is limited. If anything has been arranged poorly, please don’t hesitate to tell us.”

“No, your hospitality has been more than satisfactory,” Sir Gorosh replied with a relaxed smile. “We can feel Cecil’s sincerity and goodwill. For a first meeting, this is an excellent start.”

“That’s good to hear,” Gawain nodded. The formalities of yesterday were over; today was for business. He quickly got to the point. “Let’s begin—The Cecil Empire hopes to establish closer ties with the Holy Dragon Principality. Not just a single deal, not just sending envoys more often. We want to build a stable commercial route between our nations. This will benefit the living standards of our peoples and strengthen our economies.”

Sir Gorosh clearly appreciated Gawain’s straightforward approach. Realizing this new “Cecil Empire” was not the stuffy, rule-bound human kingdom described in the records, his tone grew more relaxed and direct. “Frankly, that’s exactly what Duke Balogur desires. The Holy Dragon Principality doesn’t often engage with outsiders, but that doesn’t mean we’re closed or stubborn. We’re curious about the outside world and very interested in your nation’s magical technology. But what exactly do you envision for this ‘commercial route’? To put it plainly, what do you intend to sell us?”

A genuine, pleased smile curved Gawain’s lips.

When dealing with business partners, he always wore a genuinely warm smile.

“Sir Goloch, when you arrived, you traveled on our magic-powered train—did it catch your interest?”

Sir Goloch and Asarena exchanged a glance.

“Ah…” After a brief pause, Goloch blinked and nodded. “It’s truly a remarkable invention, with very practical applications. Naturally, we’re interested.”

Gawain smiled and gestured to a nearby attendant, who brought over several documents. “In that case, we have a comprehensive investment plan tailored to your interests.”

(Recommended read: The Border Song Heroes by Panda the Gardener, written by the author Liming Shuyou. It’s a story about traveling back to the late Northern Song dynasty with a martial arts system and farming life. Feel free to check it out and show some support!)

(End of chapter)