Chapter 850: Intelligence from Megor III
Night had fallen.
A canopy of stars blanketed the sky above Cecil City, their twinkling light mingling with the artificial glow of the city below. A faint, ethereal haze spread over the urban skyline, lending the starlight a soft, dreamlike quality. Sir Gorosh tilted his head upward, gazing at the unfamiliar constellations of this foreign land. From the distant bustling streets came the faint strains of music, barely audible but unmistakably lively.
The night sky over Dragon’s Reach was brighter, but the air there was colder. It lacked the city’s vibrancy, yet held a solemn dignity all its own.
If one set aside personal feelings, which place was better? It was a question without an easy answer.
A voice beside him broke his reverie. “Sir, your daughter has already left. If you plan to stand here in the cold for hours, I’m not sticking around—there’s a warm room and a nightcap calling my name.”
Gorosh blinked, pulling his gaze away from the dark sky. He glanced toward the direction Maggie had gone, a complicated smile tugging at his lips. “Do you think Maggie meeting me tonight was arranged by Gawain Cecil?”
“As long as we stand here, everything happening around us can be seen as the Emperor’s design. Worrying about that is pointless,” Asalina said, glancing at him. “What matters is whether you’re willing to accept these ‘arrangements,’ and whether they affect your judgment as an ambassador.”
She paused, then added thoughtfully, “Personally, I think it’s a good thing. Gawain Cecil has been careful and measured in all his actions so far. He’s mindful of the Dragonborn’s feelings and is working to move things forward. You can see tonight as a mere ‘arrangement,’ or as a gesture of goodwill and sincerity.”
Gorosh was silent for a few moments, lost in thought. Before Asalina could press further, he spoke. “Ms. Asalina, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you again—please contact Dragon’s Reach once more.”
Asalina sighed dramatically. “…I knew this would happen.”
A cool breeze drifted into the study.
Gawain looked up from a pile of documents just as Amber’s figure materialized from the air.
“How did it go?” he asked casually.
“The father and daughter talked for a long time. Aside from a small hiccup at the start, the atmosphere seemed fairly cordial,” Amber reported, “But as you instructed, I kept my distance and didn’t eavesdrop on their private conversation. I don’t know the details.”
“Good. With your skills, getting too close risks getting beaten up if you’re caught,” Gawain nodded. “It’s fine. Our main goal was just to get Maggie and Sir Gorosh to meet. Whatever comes of it… we’ll leave it to fate. We’re not counting on anything.”
Amber didn’t argue about the “getting beaten up” part; she just nodded in agreement. Then, curious, she glanced at the mountain of paperwork on Gawain’s desk. “…You still have this much to handle?”
“Construction projects are underway nationwide, plus new diplomatic, economic, military, and industrial plans. Each department has dedicated staff, but there’s still a lot I need to personally oversee,” Gawain said with a wry smile as he surveyed the towering stack. “Honestly, it’s not as overwhelming as it looks. Nothing here is particularly troublesome.”
Amber scratched her head, muttering, “I’m drowning in intelligence reports from the military bureau every day… my head’s about to explode.”
Gawain paused his document flipping, then chuckled. “Once the computing center is fully operational, things will improve. Many tasks will be handled by machines and networks. Clerks and assistant administrators will have more time for important matters. Our efficiency will increase, and our workload…”
“Will increase accordingly,” Amber interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Instead of reviewing ten documents a day, you’ll be reviewing a hundred. You’ll breeze through what used to take days, but the queue of problems will never end.” She looked up with mock solemnity. “I’ve been with you for years now. Next time you try to pull one over on me, at least come up with a new angle…”
Gawain stared at Amber, who seemed to have reached some profound life realization. He realized that over the years, this half-elf had grown just as sharp as anyone else—she was getting harder to fool.
Just then, a peculiar sensation rippled through Gawain’s senses. After a moment’s recognition, he nodded toward Amber. “We have a visitor.”
Amber’s first instinct was to draw her kinetic baton from her waist. “Got it, I’m ready—”
“No, really a visitor,” Gawain interrupted, waving her off. “Put that away—Megor, you may appear.”
At his words, an invisible wave of magical energy surged through the room. The lights flickered and dimmed slightly, as shadows tinged with deep purple and shimmering starlight coalesced in the center of the study. The shifting mass of light and shadow formed a pulsating orb that hovered like a ghost above the floor.
Amber jumped back, startled. Before she could ask what it was, a low humming voice emanated from the orb. “Good evening, Your Majesty, and to you as well… nervous half-elf. Forgive my frankness, but your weapon likely won’t affect me—I lost my head many years ago.”
Amber stared at the fluctuating starry orb. Though startled, she quickly connected the dots and raised an eyebrow. “Megor III? The Pope of the Sleepless?”
“That title is in the past,” the orb replied evenly. “You may simply call me Megor. I am now an ordinary citizen of Cecil, loyal to Emperor Gawain Cecil.”
Amber smirked, putting away her baton. “Well, after issuing IDs to a ball of arcane light, an iron sphere, and a tree, now we’re making one for a… glowing cloud of smoke.”
She looked at Gawain. “Should I step aside?”
“No need. Stay here,” Gawain nodded at Amber, then turned to Megor. “She’s Amber, my intelligence minister. You’ve come at this hour—what do you wish to tell me?”
“Intelligence minister… understood,” Megor’s voice trembled slightly as the orb contracted and lowered to a more conversational height. “Your Majesty, you have accepted the personnel we transferred to Cecil as promised, and helped us resolve the crisis with the High Narrators. In accordance with our agreement, all technology and secrets of the Sleepless now belong to you.
“I have come to fulfill that promise.
“I possess some secrets concerning the Typhon royal family. I wonder if you would be interested?”
Gawain’s eyes flickered subtly. Then, in a low voice, he asked, “What kind of secrets?”
“Regarding a curse that has plagued the Augustus family for two centuries.”
“…I’m very interested,” Gawain said, scanning the starry orb floating before him. “Should I get you a chair? It feels odd having a guest stand while we talk.”
“No need. I’m accustomed to this form,” Megor replied. “Of course, if you prefer, you may provide a chair and I can float over and pretend to sit.”
“…Better not,” Gawain said, imagining the scene and shaking his head. “Begin.”
“Let us start with the old imperial capital of Typhon, Orlandel,” Megor began. “You likely know the Sleepless’ headquarters lie deep beneath the ruins of Orlandel. The curse on the Typhon royal family appeared only after the great collapse of Orlandel… but in fact, the Sleepless had been active underground there long before the collapse.”
Some of this was already known to Gawain, who had long harbored questions about the region. At Megor’s last statement, he furrowed his brow. “So the key to everything is Orlandel—what exactly is there?”
“…A fragment of the Dream God, Your Majesty, buried beneath Orlandel.”
Gawain’s breath caught for a moment. Yet after that brief reaction, his expression was calmer than Megor had expected.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I anticipated as much,” Gawain shook his head. “The Sleepless are fallen priests of the Dream God, and you’ve hidden in Orlandel’s depths for centuries studying forbidden knowledge. That place is not only a good hideout, but it must also hold something that draws you. The Augustus family’s curse is unusual—it clearly involves dreams and the mental realm. I’ve long suspected it points to a certain deity. For me, there are only a few ‘suspects.’”
Calling a god a “suspect” was a luxury only an outsider could afford.
Megor’s voice carried a hint of reverence. “Everything is as you judge.”
Gawain waved a hand, his expression serious. “So the so-called ‘curse’ on the Augustus family is essentially divine corruption caused by the Dream God. But what about the great collapse of Orlandel two centuries ago? How did the corruption spread to the Augustus family? You were already using Orlandel as a base before then—was this your doing?”
“Not at all,” Megor quickly denied. His tone slowed as he gathered his thoughts. “Where should I begin… In truth, it was a series of coincidences and mistakes. The collapse was caused by the underground ruins going out of control, and the Dream God’s fragment suddenly awakening. It was more of an accident. On the other hand, you should know the Typhon royal family had ‘predicted’ the disaster before it happened and evacuated the city in time, miraculously avoiding tens of thousands of casualties. They were able to foresee the collapse because the Sleepless warned them…”
“Start from the beginning,” Gawain said, tapping the desk lightly. “From when the Dream Church fell into darkness and made Orlandel their base, and when the Typhon people established their capital there.”
“Very well,” Megor replied. “The Sleepless establishing themselves underground in Orlandel and the Typhon founding their capital there happened around the same time, but they were unrelated—merely a coincidence.”
“In the early days of the Typhon Kingdom, the Augustus family chose Orlandell—then known for its fertile land and suitability for city-building—as their capital. Shortly after they established themselves, the Dreaming Church, having barely regained some of its former strength, arrived at what was still little more than a camp. We took refuge there, hiding in the nearby forests and the chaotic villages scattered around. For a long time, we kept a low profile, living quietly alongside the people of Orlandell.
“As Orlandell gradually grew into a fledgling city, the Dreaming Church also regained more of its power. We reorganized in the city’s shadowy alleys as the Order of the Eversleep, operating as a secretive sect. Back then, our main concerns were survival and recuperation. Then, quite unexpectedly, while searching for a new hideout outside the city, we discovered an entrance to an underground cave… At first, we thought it was just a cave, but soon we realized it led to an ancient ruin nearly as vast as Orlandell itself.
“That discovery utterly stunned us.”
Gawain interrupted Megor’s account. “Was what you found a facility left behind by the Gondor Empire? You’re Gondorian yourself—you should recognize the technology and architectural style of the ancient empire.”
Though he had ventured multiple times into the heart of the Dreaming City, Gawain had never seen the Eversleepers’ headquarters in the real world. From fragments of memories shared by Daniel and others, he had only glimpsed the underground palace after seven centuries of renovations, unable to imagine what it looked like when the Eversleepers first uncovered it. At that moment, his mind instinctively jumped to Gondor’s Rebellion Project, suspecting that what the Eversleepers found might actually be another “Rebellion Fortress” used to store divine specimens—like the one hidden deep in the Dark Mountains.
After all, the combination of ancient ruins and divine samples was a strikingly familiar image.
But Megor shook his head firmly. “I can say with certainty that it wasn’t—that place was definitely not built by the Gondor Empire. First, it lies beyond the old empire’s borders, on land newly settled by humanity. More importantly, the facility was filled with things we didn’t recognize: an unprecedented architectural style, walls inscribed with unknown writing, and sealed chambers containing remnants of devices using technology we had never seen before…”
(End of chapter)