Chapter 867: A New Beginning

The boundless green fields rolled gently across the plain, a breeze carrying the fresh scent of earth and grass, soothing and invigorating. Norris stood amidst this still-unfinished land, feeling a lightness and comfort in his body that he hadn’t experienced in decades. He couldn’t help but take a deep, blissful breath.

“This really is a wonderful place, Your Majesty,” he said, turning to Gawain with a smile. “I just hope the young people who enter the network for entertainment don’t get too addicted.”

Gawain chuckled. “We’ll establish proper regulations and safeguards. After all, entertainment is part of human civilization, but any form of amusement can become a trap if one isn’t careful.”

“You always prepare thoroughly for everything you do,” Norris said with admiration. “Immortality… it’s such a bold idea.”

“Throughout history, the extraordinary have sought countless ways to extend life, even to achieve near-immortality,” Gawain replied slowly, shaking his head. “From necromantic rituals to elemental ascensions, and even my own accidental ‘resurrection’… Long life has become a privilege of the extraordinary, tied closely to power. The stronger one’s supernatural abilities, the better the chance to become long-lived. And if one abandons humanity and pursues ruthless paths, the odds improve even more. The dark cults are full of ‘ancients’ who have lived for centuries. The forbidden life-swap technique Beltira showed you is just one traditional method—and not even the worst.

“If it weren’t for the low success rates and the side effects—memory loss, loss of personality—more would risk it. Besides, there are many ancient races with naturally long or near-immortal lifespans, who don’t need to pay a price for their longevity. These powerful old races haven’t wiped out humanity or taken over the world simply because this world is still… habitable.

“Death has never been fair to mortals—that’s an iron law of this world, the greatest unfairness in competition between humans and other races, and even among humans themselves. The Immortals Project is an attempt to enhance human development. And perhaps, in the distant future, it will be the catalyst for humanity’s transformation as a whole.”

“I’m not good at imagining things so far ahead, especially in this realm,” Norris shook his head. “But from where I stand, your Immortals Project at least doesn’t extend some lives by sacrificing others. Though the chance to preserve one’s soul can easily become a ‘privilege,’ that risk is still manageable within a system. Besides…”

Norris paused, gazing toward the city under construction in the distance, looking out over this still largely wild world. A faint smile touched his lips. “Looks like being an ‘Immortal’ isn’t exactly a life of leisure.”

“Exactly. You’ll be serving the Empire for a very long time,” Gawain laughed, meeting Norris’s calm, deep eyes. “Though it might be a bit late to ask now, I have to—are you willing to become an Immortal, Norris?”

“Of course,” the old man’s wrinkles smoothed as he smiled. “After all, it’s a chance to keep living. I didn’t refuse Lady Beltira’s offer because I was chasing death.”

“A very honest answer,” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “And the best one.”

…

Back in the real world, Gawain opened his eyes.

Beltira’s flowering vines writhed, gently removing the temporary neural connectors one by one. Gawain felt the numbness in his nerves quickly fade as vitality returned. He stretched his neck lightly, then stood and looked at the people in the small room.

Rebecca, Amber, and Margarita stood before him, their faces openly tense and worried.

“It’s a success,” Gawain announced without delay. “Norris will become the Empire’s first ‘Immortal’—the first ordinary human in history to have their soul preserved through magitechnology.”

Rebecca was the first to leap up in celebration, followed by Amber. Margarita pressed a hand to her chest, a genuine smile breaking through. The several Eversleeping Archbishops present, who had been involved in the process, exchanged excited congratulations.

No one was overly surprised by witnessing the birth of a soul-immortal. In this world, extending life through supernatural means was not unimaginable. Norris, though an ordinary man preserved by new technology, was still within the realm of possibility. To the Eversleeping, this was cause for celebration but not shock.

After all, in the imperial capital of Cecil, there was a sea witch with endless life who died and revived daily, an arcane being over a thousand years old, a massive iron sphere said to contain the soul of an ancient mage, a dragonborn with centuries of life, and an emperor who had been dead for seven centuries and was resurrected. The people of Cecil were well accustomed to such wonders, and the Eversleeping had adapted accordingly.

“He’ll need some time to adjust and adapt within the network,” Gawain said once the celebrations quieted. “We’ll also monitor his mental state closely for a short period. This won’t take long—within a few days, you’ll be able to see him again, either through maginet communication or immersion pods connected to the network.

“Also, effective immediately, Norris will no longer serve as Minister of Agriculture. The appointment of his successor will proceed as planned. Margarita, prepare to receive official notifications. The reconstruction efforts will require some adjustments on your part.”

Margarita blinked, understanding the implication, and nodded promptly. “Understood.”

“Furthermore, today’s events will be carefully publicized through official channels,” Gawain continued. “Until the official statement is released, I don’t want to hear any rumors.”

Amber had already anticipated this and nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on that.”

Margarita also accepted the order. “I’ll manage the camp’s security and control.”

Gawain nodded slightly.

The emergence of Immortal technology was thrilling and significant, but its potential consequences had to be considered in advance. While people in this world were familiar with the idea that mysterious magical forces could create life miracles and that powerful supernaturals might live longer, Gawain had to be wary of misinformation spreading.

Though several supernatural methods for extending life existed, before the Eversleeping’s networked mind technology, these were either harsh in conditions or had severe side effects—often involving necromantic taboos or the complete loss of humanity during transformation. Norris’s “transformation” was not true resurrection or eternal life—he had indeed died in the real world, but his mind was preserved as data within the network. It was still uncertain whether this preserved consciousness would truly never decay. This near-“soul” form could easily be misunderstood as some kind of necromantic spirit conjuring, and poor publicity could create huge future risks.

He also had to consider public opinion. He didn’t want “Immortality” to become a privilege tied to status, but that was almost inevitable. The technology was emerging and nearing maturity, so even if survival was only possible as data within the network, many would exploit this. Combating this tendency would be a long-term task for Gawain and the Ministry.

Therefore, as the starting point of this long journey, all work surrounding the Empire’s first Immortal had to minimize risks.

In the brief silence, Gawain pondered deeply before exhaling softly.

Magitechnology had shattered the barrier between the supernatural and mortals, dragging many things once beyond human desire into the whirlpool of human nature. Technology had given ordinary people access to things they never had before, but its rapid development meant this process would be uneven.

This imbalance would increasingly occupy his thoughts—after all, the supernatural barrier was broken, and the rules of the Cecil Empire made rebuilding it impossible.

He even found himself wandering into wild speculation—when humanity’s civilization marches ever onward, with thoughts and desires growing ever more complex, do the gods born from humanity’s collective consciousness face the same troubles?

Everyone noticed Gawain’s near-sigh, puzzled by his reaction at such a celebratory moment. No one dared ask, except Rebecca, who was quickest to speak up (Amber had intended to, but Rebecca’s reflexes were sharper).

“Ancestor? Why the sigh?”

“Nothing,” Gawain said after a pause, then smiled with relief and shook his head. “Just thinking about unrelated things. Now, Margarita, the follow-up is yours. Please handle Norris’s… remains properly. He is, after all, dead in the real world. Our former Minister of Agriculture deserves a… proper funeral.”

His voice faltered slightly as he spoke, and his expression grew strange as he looked at the old man resting on the couch. Hearing this, Margarita, Amber, and even Rebecca’s expressions shifted subtly—this was a complex, indescribable situation. Margarita was certain that even the venerable Wald Perich, whom she respected deeply, would have no experience handling such matters.

Meanwhile, Yuri, Semler, and the other archbishops remained calm, exchanging knowing glances—they had experience.

A loud, annoying voice rang in Yuri’s ear at just the right moment: “Ah… I know this scene.”

With that, Magnus’s figure materialized from thin air.

“Shut up,” nearly all the Eversleeping archbishops said in unison.

Gawain watched this scene without comment, smiling and shaking his head before turning and leaving the small room.

He walked to a quiet clearing nearby, letting his thoughts settle with the peaceful surroundings.

This was a small flower field, where unknown blossoms nurtured by the towering Solin trees bloomed. A breeze stirred the canopy, rustling the leaves and carrying faint floral scents through the secluded spot.

Gawain looked up at the layers of massive leaves shimmering with a dreamlike glow under the magestone lamps. He exhaled softly.

“Beltira.”

“I’m here,” came a soft rustling from the nearby vines, and Beltira’s figure emerged from the flowering tendrils. She stepped up beside Gawain and gave a slight bow. “Brother Gawain.”

After a brief pause, Gawain shook his head. “…When it’s just us, you don’t have to force yourself to call me that.”

“You carry almost all of his memories,” Beltira said evenly, her expression unreadable. “So I need to be careful about what I say and how I act. I don’t want a slip of words or attitude to cause unnecessary trouble.”

Gawain gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and nodded gently. “That’s something you can decide for yourself. But enough about that—let’s talk about what you mentioned in your report earlier. You detected a regular, unfamiliar signal in the crystal array atop the Sorin tree?”

(End of chapter)