Chapter 884: An Invitation?
By now, Gawain was no longer surprised by the various gaps scattered throughout the memories inherited within him.
Many of these mysteriously vanished memories had been deliberately erased by Selina Gel back in the day; others remained unexplained to this very moment.
Yet all these missing fragments shared a common thread: they all, to some degree, pointed toward the divine—things that, if mentioned, would inevitably be uncovered.
With this realization, once Gawain became aware of the gaps in his memories related to the “Shield of the Guardian,” he could already piece together quite a few things.
He exhaled slowly, setting aside the swirling speculations in his mind for the moment, and turned his gaze back to the two senior agents before him. “What else do you want to know about the Shield of the Guardian?”
“We want to know if, after you obtained it…” Melita began, hesitating slightly as if carefully choosing her words, “if you experienced any kind of… ‘change’ under its influence?”
“A change?” Gawain frowned slightly. “What kind of change? That’s a pretty broad term.”
“For example, seeing or hearing things you hadn’t before, or suddenly gaining new sensory abilities,” Noretta explained. “You might even experience vivid illusions or receive memories that aren’t your own…”
Gawain’s expression immediately grew serious—Noretta’s words nearly confirmed a suspicion that had just surfaced in his mind, one connected to Gawain Cecil from seven centuries ago.
“Since you’re the one involved, we’ll be straightforward,” Melita stepped forward half a pace, speaking candidly. “We have some understanding of the secrets behind the shield you hold and the ‘God Metal’ it’s made from. As you know, God Metal—also called the Eternal Slate—has the power to influence mortal minds, implanting memories and even ‘transcendent experiences’ that don’t belong to them. The Shield of the Guardian is forged from the same source material as God Metal, but it carries an even greater power, so it can produce similar effects.
“It can affect a mortal’s mind and perception, implanting certain memories or emotions, and might even alter your mental and physical structure, linking you to something far beyond.
“What we want to know is whether, during the time you possessed the Shield of the Guardian, you experienced such changes—or came into contact with similar ‘sensory transmissions’?”
Gawain had already braced himself when Noretta spoke, so he maintained a calm, composed expression as Melita’s words sank in. But inside, a thunderclap echoed: so it was true!
This explained why Gawain Cecil, a mere human seven hundred years ago, suddenly established a connection with the satellite in the sky—and could even communicate with the satellite consciousness that was himself back then. It was all because of the “Shield of the Guardian of Ansu Kingdom” he never parted with!
A mysterious fragment of metal, likely a remnant of some ancient facility fallen from space, radiating energy similar to the Eternal Slate but not quite the same. The expedition members, unaware of its true nature, forged this metal into the Shield of the Guardian. For nearly two decades, Gawain Cecil lived alongside this artifact. Unlike the Eternal Slate, which immediately imparts spiritual guidance and knowledge, this “starry relic” subtly influenced him over the years, eventually forging a link between a human and an ancient cosmic facility.
Gawain wasn’t sure how this transformation occurred, nor whether there was a pivotal moment in the process—because all related memories had vanished. Whether these memory gaps were intentional on Gawain Cecil’s part or erased by some external force, the current Gawain could no longer uncover how the original owner of this body was gradually affected by the “starry relic.” Instead, his thoughts suddenly drifted to another matter:
According to elven legends, the earliest “Primordial Elves” once reached a towering spire and were affected by mysterious energies there, causing them to split into subraces like the Gray Elves, Silver Elves, and Sea Elves. All these subraces suffered massive memory loss and a profound technological rupture. Based on later intelligence, Gawain suspected that the tower the Primordial Elves encountered was also a relic of the Godslayer Fleet, likely located in the southwest of the continent—and somehow connected to the tower Gawain Cecil had encountered sailing southeast centuries ago…
These ancient relics seemed to share a similar power: constantly emitting mysterious energy that implants memories or knowledge into any race that comes into contact with them. Under certain conditions, they could even alter the lifeforms themselves…
This raised a question in Gawain’s mind: after Gawain Cecil successfully entered one of these “towers” and emerged alive, was he still truly human?
He instinctively glanced down at his own body—the first time he felt that this body, seemingly picked up from nowhere, was the greatest secret he faced in this world.
“Is something wrong?” Melita noticed Gawain’s odd behavior and couldn’t help but ask.
“No… nothing. Just suddenly remembered something from long ago.” Gawain steadied himself, suppressing the flood of thoughts in his mind. Then, frowning, he debated whether to answer Melita’s question directly. He looked at the two senior agents before him—they stood quietly, wearing inscrutable smiles, patient and professionally polite.
Finally, he exhaled slowly and said in a low, deliberate voice, “Yes. During my contact with this ‘starry relic,’ I learned some things.”
Noretta instinctively asked, “Specifically…”
“The gods are dead,” Gawain said, locking eyes with her, enunciating each word carefully. “And it was a massacre.”
A brief silence fell over the room. Melita and Noretta exchanged a look filled with an unspoken solemnity. Gawain continued at a measured pace: “Yet in this era, the gods still hang over all living beings. Divine oracles and powers seem eternal and unchanging. So my greatest curiosity now is—what exactly are those entities responding to mortal prayers in the divine realms? What are their purposes, and what is their true relationship with the mortal world?”
After hearing Gawain’s last words, Melita and Noretta exchanged a glance, then fell silent. After a few seconds, Noretta finally spoke.
“I’m sorry, but we cannot answer your question,” she said, shaking her head. “But one thing we can tell you—They are still gods, not something else.”
“That answer is enough,” Gawain said, relaxing his brow and nodding slowly.
If this agent’s words were trustworthy, it at least confirmed one of the theories he, Veronica, and Kamail had entertained: it wasn’t some other entity usurping the divine throne, but new gods being born upon it—a new wave of civilization shaping a new generation of deities.
The “god-making model” behind the Upper Narrator incident was real, and it still operated in the world.
“We have one last question,” Melita broke the silence. “It’s unrelated to the Shield of the Guardian and may touch on your privacy. If you prefer not to answer, you may refuse.”
“Go ahead,” Gawain nodded. “I’ll answer as I see fit.”
“We’ve heard that during the centuries you were dead, your soul drifted outside the human world and traveled between reality and illusion…” Melita’s expression turned serious. “Did you go to some divine realm at that time?”
“There is such a rumor, and it originated from me—but it’s not accurate,” Gawain said frankly. “In truth, my soul did wander for many years, and I did look down upon this world from a very high place. But… it wasn’t a divine realm, and I never saw a single god during those years.”
“That’s a relief,” Melita smiled and glanced at the shield in Gawain’s hands. “We have no further questions. Congratulations—the Shield of the Guardian of the Kingdom is now returned to its rightful owner.”
“Let me once again thank the Mithril Treasury,” Gawain smiled sincerely.
But soon he noticed the two senior agents exchanged hesitant looks, as if they had something to say but found it difficult to voice. He casually asked, “Is there something else?”
“It’s not a question…” Melita frowned, hesitating. “We have another mission, but…”
She seemed conflicted, as if reluctant to carry out this task but compelled to do so. This was unusual—Melita was always energetic when working for the Mithril Treasury.
“Go ahead, don’t be so troubled,” Gawain said. “I won’t be offended.”
“Would you be interested in visiting Talrond as a guest?” Melita finally made up her mind and looked Gawain in the eye. “To be honest, it’s the supreme ruler of Talrond who wishes to meet you.”
This caught Gawain completely off guard. He froze for a moment but quickly sensed from Melita’s gaze that this “invitation” was far from simple—especially since she emphasized “the supreme ruler of Talrond.” Instinctively, he asked, “The supreme ruler of Talrond refers to…”
“He is our god,” Noretta said in a low voice. “The dragon god.”
Gawain’s expression stiffened instantly. No exaggeration—he nearly dropped the shield in shock.
After a few seconds, he confirmed that the two senior agents showed no signs of joking, and their tone was serious. He hadn’t hallucinated. Realizing the staggering implications of their words, he struggled to keep his expression steady and asked in surprise, “Talrond has a god? A god in the mortal world?!”
Noretta nodded. “Yes. Our dragon god resides in the mortal realm and has lived in Talrond for millions of years.”
Gawain’s voice still trembled with astonishment. “This god wants to see me?”
“Yes. Our god wants to meet you—He almost never concerns Himself with anything beyond Talrond, not even the shifting religious beliefs or the rise and fall of civilizations on other continents. For Him to take such an active interest in a mortal is the first time in many millennia.”
Gawain noticed that Noretta seemed to deliberately add more information than he had asked for, as if she wanted to reveal more.
While pondering the true intentions behind this senior agent’s words and drawing on his prior knowledge of the dragons, Gawain quietly considered the situation of this “mortal god” in Talrond and its relationship with ordinary dragons. After a long moment, he asked calmly, “What else did your god say?”
“He asked us to convey that this is a friendly and ordinary invitation—to visit Talrond’s scenery and, while there, discuss matters of the mortal world with Him. He has some questions He wishes to explore with you, and this discussion may benefit both sides,” Melita repeated the message from the dragon god with a strange expression, as if she herself found it hard to believe a god would say such things to a mortal. “Finally, He asked us to tell you that the invitation is not urgent. If you’re busy, you may postpone the meeting. If you have doubts, you may decline outright.”
Gawain instinctively raised an eyebrow. “Is that an exact quote from your gods?”
The two senior agents answered in unison, “Yes.”
Gawain thought for a moment—several long seconds—then let out a deep sigh.
“No. I’m not going.”
(End of chapter)