Chapter 894: Unyielding

The atmosphere in the study was heavy and solemn. Even Amber, who was usually lively and playful, stood quietly by the side with a serious expression—there was no hint of joking around.

“This is the entirety of our communication,” Gawain said, sitting comfortably back in his chair behind the desk. The “Shield of the Guardians” rested on the weapon rack not far behind him.

Bathed in the fading glow of the sunset, everything in the room was tinged with a soft orange light.

“Incredible…” Hetty’s face was graver than ever before. Even speaking a few words was a struggle. Clearly, after such a massive influx of information, organizing her thoughts so quickly was no easy feat—even for the Empire’s High Chancellor. “Ancestor, if what the God of Nature said is true, then our understanding of this world…”

“Our understanding of this world, of the gods, of the magical tides, of faith, even of the stars in the cosmos—everything opens a new door,” Veronica/Ophelia said, gripping her platinum scepter tightly, her tone low and serious. “We must reassess the relationship between gods and mortals, and rethink the planet we live on and the vast space beyond it…”

“As mortals, our knowledge is limited,” Kamail analyzed from a scholar’s perspective, “but within the truths we do know, nothing clearly contradicts what the Great Stag Amorn said. I believe most of what he said is credible.”

“Ancestor,” Hetty suddenly looked up at Gawain, “do you believe what the ‘God of Nature’ said?”

“Perhaps everything he said is true, but I always keep a healthy dose of skepticism,” Gawain replied bluntly. “A god who can fake death for three thousand years—that alone is reason enough to remain cautious.”

As Gawain’s words fell, Hetty opened her mouth as if to ask more, but before she could speak, a sudden ripple of energy swept through the room, as if a breath passed through everyone’s hearts. Each person felt a brief moment of disorientation, and then a girl with white hair trailing to the floor, dressed in a simple white gown, appeared abruptly in the center of the study.

“Gods find it hard to lie,” a light, melodious voice echoed in the room. “Or rather, lying brings severe consequences—many lies try to become truth, and if they cannot, they become a ‘burden’ to the god. A lie turned burden may take a long or painful process to be ‘digested.’”

Hetty looked at the figure appearing in the study with surprise. “Narathiel?”

“She’s here at my request,” Gawain nodded, pointing to the desk where a maginet terminal quietly hummed. The runes on its base flickered rapidly, indicating a fast data exchange, yet no holographic image hovered above it.

That’s because the “data” transmitted through this terminal had taken on a will of its own, manifesting as Narathiel standing in the room. This former High Narrator, though stripped of her divine aura, still retained powers beyond mortal comprehension. Supported by the maginet system, she could project herself psychologically anywhere the network reached and where permissions allowed.

Veronica frowned slightly as she looked at the former goddess before her. “You mean to say that the God of Nature’s words are all true?”

“This is just my experience…” Narathiel considered carefully, her expression serious. “In my previous ‘world,’ the rules worked this way, but I don’t know if your reality is the same.”

“When it comes to gods, the rules should be universal,” Gawain said. “At least, there shouldn’t be major differences—otherwise, the High Narrators wouldn’t have been born in the sandbox.”

Narathiel nodded thoughtfully.

With a former god’s affirmation, most doubts in the room were dispelled. After all, this “High Narrator” was an expert in the divine realm and the chief consultant of the Empire’s Theological Institute. No one understood how a god operated better than she did.

“So, what we need to be wary of isn’t whether Amorn is lying, but whether the truth he reveals contains omissions or misdirection—deception comes in many forms, and the most insidious is a lie built on truth,” Gawain said gravely, his fingers unconsciously stroking the armrest. “Of course, this all assumes that the Great Stag Amorn has some scheme or trap waiting for us. He might genuinely be harmless, but…”

“But we can’t take that gamble,” Hetty said with a bitter smile, shaking her head. “After all, he is a god…”

“And one who faked death in the Shadow Realm for three thousand years, deceived all mortals, fooled the researchers of the Rebellion Fortress, and possesses infinite patience and wisdom,” Kamail added in a low hum. A dark blue glow flickered across the runic armor plates on his body, reflecting his conflicted emotions. “A god like that, if he wanted to plot something, would be beyond human comprehension.”

“This god is right in our ‘backyard,’” Amber, who had been standing silently by the window, suddenly broke the silence. “That’s what we should be focusing on now.”

“We can’t move the Dark Mountains, nor the God of Nature. Closing the Shadow Realm’s gate isn’t a good idea either—not only is it the only stable portal we currently have, but we also don’t know if the God of Nature still has the strength to reopen it from the other side,” Hetty shook her head, her expression serious. “We can’t just relocate the capital either. First, running away isn’t a good solution. Second, the impact would be huge, and explaining it to the outside world would be a nightmare. Most importantly, we don’t even know if it would work. The Shadow Realm isn’t like the Dark Realm—we know very little about it. Its connection to the real world is unstable. What we do in the real world might just be going in circles in the Shadow Realm…”

“We never really needed to run,” Gawain nodded. “A god trapped and immobilized in ruins, already ‘fallen,’ wouldn’t scare the people of Cecil into moving the capital overnight. The fact is, the God of Nature is alive and in the Rebellion Fortress. He won’t leave, and neither will we. So we just have to keep our eyes wide open—

“Strengthen surveillance of the Rebellion Fortress, install more sensors at the portal; set up more mental defense runes and divine power detectors inside the fortress to monitor the guards for any abnormalities; relocate some facilities from the fortress to new districts—Cecil City has grown, and some production lines that were forced into the mountains can be moved out…”

He gave his orders one by one, then let out a deep breath.

“These are basically the measures we can take now… Considering Cecil City has been rooted here for five years, and the Rebellion Fortress for over a thousand, and the Great Stag Amorn remains quietly ‘waiting,’ this should suffice for the short term.”

Veronica, holding her platinum scepter, met his calm gaze. “And the long term?”

“Long term…” Gawain smiled faintly. “If after the long term we still have no way to deal with a trapped, weakened god, then we don’t need to worry about any rebellion plans.”

“I understand.” Veronica nodded, signaling she had no further questions.

Gawain sighed quietly in his heart.

A trapped, weakened god…

Not long ago, another god had invited him to visit a realm ruled and protected by gods. At the time, due to his circumstances and caution, he declined. But today, he had taken the initiative to engage with a “god” right under his nose. This bold move carried risks, but more importantly, he was over ninety percent confident that even if the God of Nature was alive, he was weakened and unable to move freely. On this point, he trusted the power of the “Godslayer Fleet” implicitly.

If the Great Stag Amorn were not trapped and weakened, Gawain would have already announced an overnight capital relocation—not out of cowardice, but because it would be a matter of life and death.

After all, the lessons from the old capital of the Typhon Empire were still fresh in his mind.

As Gawain thought of the Typhon capital’s fate, Amber muttered beside him, “Sigh… We used to joke that a few hundred years ago, the Typhons built Orlandel right at the doorstep of the Dream God’s gate. Now, here we are, building our capital on the grave of the God of Nature…”

Her words were sharp and poignant. The room fell silent. After a few seconds, Hetty couldn’t help but lightly tap Gawain’s arm and whisper, “If it were Rebecca, I’d have her hanging by now…”

Gawain said nothing, but inwardly wondered if he’d been teaching the empire’s shame too many sarcastic remarks.

After arranging a series of surveillance and security measures around the Dark Mountains and the Rebellion Fortress, Hetty and Amber left the room first. Narathiel then sank back into the neural network. The vast study was left with only Gawain and the two rebels from the Gondor era.

The conversation quickly shifted to technology. Veronica sighed softly, as if lamenting, “We have so many new things to study now…”

“Amorn mentioned something called the ‘Deep Sea.’ From what I understand, it should be part of the world’s underlying order—we’ve never truly understood it, but everyone unknowingly interacts with it,” Gawain explained. “The Deep Sea flows through every corner of this world. It seems to permeate all things, and everything in the world is a reflection of the Deep Sea. At the same time, mortal thoughts can reflect back into the Deep Sea, forming ‘unique gods’… This was Amorn’s exact wording, and I believe it’s crucial information.”

“Could he be trying to trap us with knowledge that far exceeds mortal understanding, yet is real?” Kamail hesitated. “The ‘Deep Sea’ might be real, but it sounds so elusive and mysterious. We could waste a lot of time and energy chasing it…”

“Yet no researcher can resist such a ‘temptation,’” Veronica glanced at Kamail. “Especially since this field could help us uncover the world’s fundamental mysteries.”

“…Indeed,” Kamail paused, then smiled wryly. “I can’t suppress my curiosity… Even if it’s a trap, I think I’ll inevitably want to explore and study it.”

“We do need to understand and study it,” Gawain said, rising from behind his desk as he looked at the two dissenters before him. “I have a feeling this ‘Deep Sea’ might be the key to uncovering the whole truth—whether it’s about the gods, the mechanisms behind the magical storms, or even the very nature of magic itself. I sense there’s a connection between them all. Kamail, Veronica, I’m authorizing you to begin research in this area. Find any traces of this ‘Deep Sea.’ Also, I suggest we collaborate with the elves on this—they have an ancient heritage, and within their vast repositories of knowledge, there may already be fragments of insight into the world’s mysteries.

“Likewise, we should consider working with the sea witches. Though they’re an outsider race, they’ve lived in this world far longer than we have. Through their long process of learning and adapting, they might have observed signs we’ve missed…”

“I understand. I’ll arrange a technical exchange as soon as possible,” Kamail responded immediately. “Coincidentally, we’ve been encountering many challenges with the ultra-high-altitude aircraft project lately. It’s the perfect opportunity to share our progress with the elves.”

“Ultra-high-altitude aircraft…” Gawain’s interest was instantly piqued. This project was one of the key initiatives he had approved this year, alongside high-speed vehicles, starry sky research, and ocean exploration. It represented the hope for next-generation flight technology and was tied closely to his dream of reaching the stars and seas. “How is it progressing?”

“Everything went smoothly until we reached the top of the magical static layer. We developed more powerful anti-gravity generators, more efficient power spines, and optimized rune layouts. With some new technologies, we easily lifted unmanned aircraft to altitudes even the thunderbirds couldn’t reach. But once we crossed the magical static layer, things changed. The atmospheric turbulence layer’s magical environment is completely different from near the surface. The raw magic is stronger but far harder to control. The magic network struggles to operate steadily in such chaos, and lift stability becomes impossible to guarantee—all our unmanned aircraft have crashed.”

As Kamail spoke, he spread his hands—actually, two streams of arcane energy shaped and restrained by rune-engraved armor plates. “We’ve recovered all the recording devices from the aircraft and are preparing to analyze the data comprehensively. We hope to identify patterns in the turbulence layer and see what insights the elves might have on the matter…”

(End of chapter)