Chapter 865: A New Beginning
The world doesn’t always bring good things—often, misfortune outweighs fortune. But as long as the sun rises again tomorrow, there’s always reason to hold onto hope for the future.
Beneath the towering canopy of the great Sorin tree, a breeze stirred, carrying the scent of damp earth.
Within the layered, fortress-like branches, countless leaves rustled and swayed, sounding like the crashing of ocean waves. Birds and small creatures nesting in the trees and surrounding bushes were startled, darting out from their hiding places. Margarita stepped onto the hardened path, leaving the small cabin behind, and walked forward slowly.
She lifted her gaze ahead. Against the vast panorama formed by the immense canopy and the sprawling land, the sky stretched out like a bright, elongated curtain. A massive sun was slowly moving along the edge of that luminous backdrop.
The young knight squinted, a heavy, suppressed feeling weighing on her heart. She wished there was someone here to share this burden with her—but in the end, she forced herself to put on her usual calm and serious expression.
Suddenly, several shadows appeared far off at the horizon where the sky stretched thin. Against the sunlight, they looked like tiny jewels adorning the sun’s crown. But quickly, they sped toward Sorin Fortress, their outlines becoming clearer in the sun’s glow.
The watchtowers in the Sorin region lit up their signal lamps. A messenger soldier appeared in Margarita’s line of sight, sprinting toward her. But before he reached her, Margarita already guessed the situation—
His Majesty has finally arrived.
The knight didn’t let herself sink into despair. Her training and military discipline snapped her back into focus. She soon reached a high ground at the edge of the canopy—a newly built airfield platform in the military zone, designed for the takeoff and landing of the Empire’s flying machines.
Though the construction corps weren’t frontline troops, the rebuilding of the Holy Spirit Plains was prioritized as highly as frontline engineering. With the Empire’s Dragon Cavalry and other flying units in severe shortage, this airfield had been approved and a small Dragon Cavalry detachment was permanently stationed here, ready for emergencies. The soldiers here were no strangers to flying machines.
The rapidly approaching shadows finally reached the skies above Sorin. What had been vague and distant now took on distinct shapes in the daylight. Margarita and the soldiers looked up, and as they recognized one of the shadows, low murmurs and heavier breathing spread around.
A black dragon was leading the entire formation! That was no ordinary flying machine!
At first, some thought it was a trick of the light, mistaking it for a new, larger model of flying machine—after all, the Dragon Cavalry’s propulsion wings resembled dragon wings. But soon everyone realized it was a real dragon—larger than any Dragon Cavalry mount, with scales like cast metal and powerful claws. It wore a suit of steel armor that gleamed coldly in the sunlight, with faintly glowing runes flowing between the plates. The whole presence radiated a commanding, breathtaking majesty and beauty.
The black dragon flew at the forefront of the formation, flanked by four Dragon Cavalry machines—clear proof of its identity.
That the Empire’s allies included dragons was no secret, but hearing about it and seeing it firsthand were worlds apart. Most soldiers had never seen Maggie in person; for many, this was their first glimpse of the “dragon shadow” streaking across the sky. The shock rippled through the ranks—but strict discipline quickly took hold. After a few soft clangs of armor, silence returned behind Margarita.
The knight gazed upward as the dragon slowly descended. She had seen Maggie before, even fought alongside her—but back then, Maggie had no advanced magitech armor!
The black dragon landed on the platform in the sunlight, the accompanying flying machines adjusting their descent. Once everything settled and the swirling air calmed, Margarita led a few guards to the dragon’s side. She saw a tall, burly figure silhouetted against the sun atop the dragon’s back—like a dragon-riding hero from a bard’s tale.
Within a second, Margarita reacted, leading the soldiers in salute: “Your Majesty, we salute you!”
Gawain waved off the formality and leapt down from the dragon’s back. “No need for that. Time is short.”
As he spoke, he patted Maggie’s lowered, steel-covered wing. “Thank you for your hard work.”
The black dragon bowed her head slightly, her voice gentle and respectful. “It is my duty, Your Majesty.”
The other flying machines landed smoothly as well. Once the ramps lowered, figures emerged from the cockpits—though Margarita recognized only one: Rebecca.
Gawain approached Margarita and nodded briefly before asking directly, “What’s the situation?”
“Your Majesty…” Margarita felt her breath catch for a moment. Taking a steadying breath, she lowered her eyes and spoke softly, “You’re a step too late… Minister Norris has already left.”
The soldiers around them fell silent. Gawain simply looked at the knight calmly, his tone steady and gentle. “Margarita, don’t lose hope so quickly—how long ago was this?”
The knight didn’t understand the meaning behind the question but answered instinctively, “An hour ago, Your Majesty.”
“Then perhaps we’re not too late—there’s still time to work a miracle,” Gawain said. He gestured to the side. “Unload the equipment. Technicians, follow me. We’ll assemble everything once we reach the site.”
Margarita and the soldiers exchanged puzzled glances. The newcomers immediately sprang into action, rushing to the black dragon and carefully unloading large crates from her back. Only now did Margarita notice the crates—standard transport boxes used for engineering parts, gray-white with the royal insignia. The handlers moved swiftly but with utmost care, clearly aware of the precious contents.
“Your Majesty, what is this…” Margarita couldn’t help but break the silence.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Gawain waved her off. “Now, take us to Norris.”
Though full of questions, Gawain’s demeanor and the mysterious crates gave Margarita a strange sense of hope. She straightened her back and answered firmly, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The group quickly arrived at the small cabin near the base of the Sorin tree. Two fully armed treants still guarded the only door. As Gawain approached, the treants stepped aside, and the door swung open. Beltira emerged.
“I’m going to try something,” Gawain said before Beltira could speak. “I’ll need your assistance—you’re the best bioengineering expert we have.”
Beltira hesitated briefly but then noticed the figures behind Gawain—Yuri and Semler standing there, and Selina Gelfon holding a lantern. The moment she saw Selina, her doubt turned into thoughtful consideration. She looked at Gawain. “Are you sure? Norris is just an ordinary man…”
“That’s why this is an experiment,” Gawain nodded, stepping inside. “Don’t worry—we’ve made great progress in the relevant technologies, and I’ve brought more than just them.”
Beltira’s curiosity about what “more” meant was cut short as Gawain led the way into the cabin. As she followed, a flicker caught her eye—something like a nearly transparent white spider darted past. But when she focused again, it was gone.
Even with all the Sorin tree’s sensory abilities, she found no trace of the phantom spider. It must have been an illusion.
Gawain entered the cabin.
The venerable old man lay quietly inside, bathed in the soft glow of luminous plants hanging from the ceiling.
Everyone who entered instinctively softened their footsteps. Even usually restless Rebecca stood silently to the side.
Gawain approached the bed woven from vines and soft leaves. He looked down to see Norris covered with a blanket, his hands folded over his chest, gently holding a transparent glass tube containing a sprig of vibrant green wheat. A peaceful, satisfied smile lingered on the old man’s deeply wrinkled face. He was sleeping more peacefully than ever.
This worn-out body had finally found rest.
Suddenly, a memory flashed through Gawain’s mind—years ago, he saw the pioneering camp built on barren land, tents and cabins made of wood and coarse cloth, freshly tilled fields, and the humble smile of the old man standing at the edge of the farmland.
He bent down slowly and placed his hand over Norris’s.
“I’m sorry, Norris,” he whispered. “What I’m about to do is without your consent. It’s my well-intentioned wish, but still mine alone. I’m going to use an unproven, barely even a ‘technology’ on you.
“I may disturb your rest, so… I apologize in advance.
“But I must do this.
“The wheat is almost ripe—you should see it with your own eyes.”
Straightening, Gawain withdrew his gaze and quietly said to those waiting nearby, “Begin.”
The technicians had already opened the storage crates upon entering. Now they pulled out numerous components—a disassembled brainwave modulation device, silver-glinting artificial neural cables, neatly arranged crystal arrays, and many other items Margarita couldn’t even guess the purpose of.
It was an incomplete set of equipment, built on the foundation of immersion chamber technology. Normally, such a collection of parts would be unlikely to function—but Gawain had brought experts.
Seven hundred years ago, when the technology in this field was almost nonexistent and conditions were harsh, the first generation of Eversleepers had managed to preserve a fragmented soul through sheer human effort.
That soul belonged to a legendary hero.
Now, they were attempting to preserve the soul of an ordinary man—which was, of course, far more difficult.
But the technology they wield today is leagues beyond what was possible back then.
The components were swiftly assembled. Beside Norris’s bedside, a silver-white base was carefully positioned and soon connected to the local wireless arcane network, securing a stable power supply. Next, the crystal array was calibrated and brought online, and strands of artificial neural cables extended from the base—these Yuri handed over to Beltira, who was on site.
Selina Gelph appeared in the room as a psychological projection, holding a lantern. She gave Beltira a slight nod. “You know what to do—after all, you were the one who personally helped develop and improve this technology back then.
“The neural nodes stay in the same spots. The difference now is that we no longer need destructive implantation. Use your vines to secure them, make contact with the base of the skull’s surface, and then activate the nerves.”
At that, Selina’s lips curved into a faint smile as she locked eyes with Beltira. “Our success rate is high—because you’re still stubbornly keeping most of this body’s biological tissue alive.”
Beltira gently raised her hands. Tendrils of flowering vines sprouted from the floor, curling around the artificial neural cables and carefully pressing each into place. Hearing Selina’s words, the former saint—now one with the plants and the earth—simply smiled softly.
“Sometimes, I still hope for a miracle,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Margareta finally understood what they were trying to do.
Rebecca, standing quietly beside her, whispered everything.
His Majesty the Emperor was attempting to preserve Norris’s soul, transforming it into a consciousness capable of existing within the Empire’s data network—not some flawed and dangerous necromantic spell, but a brand-new form of arcane technology.
Behind this innovation lay a project known as the “Immortal.”
Margareta had no interest in the secrets behind that plan—it wasn’t her concern.
Her focus was solely on what was unfolding in this room.
The technicians bustled about, bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent light pouring down from above, gently illuminating the old man on the bed. The pioneer hero, who had stepped out of legend and myth, stood solemnly by his side. The scene was grave and reverent.
Margareta closed her eyes briefly.
The world doesn’t always bring good things—often, the bad outweighs the good.
But as long as the sun rises tomorrow, there’s no harm in hoping a little more for the future.
(End of chapter)