Chapter 923: Another Conversation

At the summit of Talrond’s highest peak, the resplendent sanctuary gleamed under the starlight that would bathe it for the next half year.

It was as if the eternal stars themselves poured down from the heavens, casting a faint, shimmering glow over the sanctuary’s pale golden walls and domes. Wisps of mist drifted slowly at its base, and beneath the clouds, the vibrant lights of Talrond’s cities flickered in the night. The illumination revealed the dragons’ realm—a sprawling network of massive intercity pipelines and aerial traffic beacons crisscrossing between ancient yet highly developed cities, weaving a web of light. Deep within the glow stood colossal factories and vast environmental control facilities.

Relying on the mountain ranges, Talrond seemed divided into two distinct layers: dense cities and factories sprawling across the plains and foothills, while atop the peaks sat temples, councils, elder assemblies, and headquarters of giant enterprises.

All of this, like the stars above, had remained unchanged for countless years.

A figure with flowing golden hair stood at the far end of the grand sanctuary’s terrace, bathed in starlight, gazing down upon the continent of Talrond.

Yet their eyes did not linger on the dragons’ realm. Instead, they stretched beyond the endless ocean, past eternal storms, all the way to the continent occupied by humans.

“My Lord,” the Dragon Priest Helagor bowed his head. “The observers report that the human empire of Cecile has completed the integration of their ‘magic network’ today, but there seem to have been some complications. We are still investigating…”

“No need to investigate,” the Dragon God replied calmly. “There is nothing here worth your concern.”

It was merely a reckless yet fortunate deity breaking free from their bonds. The entire process was neither replicable nor instructive.

“…Yes, my Lord.” Helagor bowed respectfully.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, the deity spoke again: “Tomorrow, have that young dragon named Melita come to see me.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

…

Though Narithil failed to capture the suspected goddess of magic, the pursuit was not without gain—Narithil had collected “remnants” stripped from the goddess Mylmina herself in the borderlands. For those involved in the Rebellion Project, these divine fragments were invaluable samples.

Within the neural network’s mirrored Great Pyramid of the Imperial Capital, Gawain examined the black shards Narithil had gathered. They resembled fragile, paper-thin ashes left after burning, weightless and loosely piled. Yet each fragment was far sturdier than it appeared, possessing high physical strength within the network and even resisting Magnum’s psychic storms.

“I’m actually quite curious,” Gawain said, looking at the samples and turning to Yuri and the others beside him, “these fragments shed from Mylmina… are they merely data within the neural network, or do they have some kind of… physical presence in the real world? Gods have flesh and blood, but their ‘bodies’ seem unlike anything we understand.”

“For a deity, perhaps the distinction between virtual and real is a false dilemma,” Selina, standing nearby, remarked, glancing at Narithil, who was quietly guarding her spoils with great care. “You probably remember how the High Narrator nearly crossed from the dream realm into reality.”

“So… theoretically, if the method is right, these remnants could be brought into the real world as lab samples,” Gawain mused. “Provided we find some kind of… ‘interface’ connecting the neural network to reality—not an immersion pod or artificial neural cord, but something more abstract and advanced.”

Selina’s expression flickered oddly. “That sounds like it challenges common sense. Narithil and Duvalet might have ideas, but do you really intend to bring these into the real world?”

“…No, better not. Too many uncontrollable factors, too many risks,” Gawain shook his head. “I even suspect these remnants were deliberately left by the goddess of magic herself—perhaps she’s waiting for us to bring them into reality.”

“A bit of a conspiracy theory, but when it comes to gods, conspiracy theories aren’t necessarily bad,” Magnum said casually. “You’re right. It’s safest to keep these ‘ashes’ stored in the neural network’s virtual lab. At least Narithil and Duvalet are guarding them, and we have those ‘deep-sea forces’ as protection.”

“Deep-sea forces…” Gawain repeated softly, his mind first conjuring Tyr’s perpetually sleepy face, then the ecstatic writhing tentacles of Tyr’s sea demon form, and finally the correct image of the deep-sea runes of the sirens. “Kamail is preparing to introduce siren runes into the neural network, but how to maximize their effect still requires careful study. The most straightforward idea is to have those runes cover the entire network’s visualized area and project through magic network terminals into the real world—but that’s… not very realistic.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Semler imagined the scene and sighed sincerely. “No matter how you think about it, it’s scary…”

“I hear Kamail and Jenna have some new ideas. I’ll check with them when I return,” Gawain said casually, then cast one last glance at the goddess’s ash samples. “Handle these samples carefully. Before running any tests, submit a complete plan report to me.”

Yuri, Selina, and the others immediately bowed in acknowledgment. Gawain nodded, stepped back, and gradually faded from view.

…

Back in the real world, Gawain wasted no time. After brief preparations, he set out for the Dark Mountains, heading deep into the heart of the Rebellion Fortress.

He was going to speak again with the god who had feigned death.

This time, he brought only Veronica. When speaking with the great stag Amorn, the number of companions didn’t matter. From a safety standpoint, only he and Tyr could approach Amorn without interference, plus Veronica and Kamail, who could protect themselves with technical means for a short time. Tyr, whose mind was full of little cookies, was not brought along—now that they knew Amorn was feigning death, it was better not to bring him. Veronica, meanwhile, was calm and steady. Kamail was busy with post-integration technical work and studying the introduction of siren runes into the magic network.

So, only Veronica, an ancient rebel herself, accompanied Gawain into the fortress. In fact, if not for the need to have someone watch his back in case of emergencies, Gawain might have gone alone. But Heddy would never agree to such a risky plan, and Gawain himself, in his position, no longer had the luxury to act recklessly.

The ancient alloy barrier slowly opened, revealing the vast, chaotic land and sky of the Shadow Realm. Standing before the fortress’s final safety shield, Veronica gazed distantly at the god who lay dormant like a mountain. She nodded to Gawain. “This time, I’m going with you.”

Last time, Veronica had stayed behind the safety barrier with others and hadn’t approached.

“There is some risk,” Gawain warned, “I don’t doubt your protective measures, but this is truly ‘close contact.’”

“I have faced the God of Holy Light at even closer range,” Veronica said with a faint smile. “In fact, my protective technology may be more effective than you imagine.”

Gawain raised an eyebrow.

“Then I won’t stop you,” he said. “But keep a close eye on your condition—I imagine that won’t be difficult for an experienced rebel like you.”

Veronica said nothing, only nodded slightly. Then she raised her platinum staff and opened a small breach in the ancient safety barrier.

They stepped through, entering the shattered courtyard exposed directly to the Shadow Realm’s environment. Facing the visual pressure brought by the “God of Nature” (though no longer a deity), they crossed broken roads and ancient connecting bridges, arriving before the great stag Amorn, who still had his eyes closed.

He had clearly been sensing the changes around him. As Gawain and Veronica approached, the mountain-sized stag slowly opened his eyes—crystal-like and radiant—and fixed his gaze on the uninvited visitors. His deep, melodious voice echoed directly in their minds: “Welcome—today, an additional guest has come to my little garden.”

“I stood farther away last time,” Veronica said calmly, “and you should know me from ‘earlier’—I had a different identity then.”

“Then you must tell me your name and identity from that time,” Amorn said. “Unlike what many believers claim, gods are neither omniscient nor omnipotent. No amount of faith can grant us those two forbidden powers…”

Veronica smiled faintly. “I was called Ophelia—Ophelia Norton.”

“…Ah, I do recall now,” Amorn said after a brief recollection. “Those mortal scholars who busied themselves drilling holes and building scaffolds on me mentioned that name. In their idle chatter, they also spoke of Herman Norton and Simons Norton.”

Veronica nodded. “They were my father and brother.”

“A memory worth cherishing—for you mortals, that is quite a distant past. So how is it that you, a human, have lived until today? You look… just like any other human.”

“That’s my secret. Since you’re neither omniscient nor omnipotent, some secrets can remain so,” Veronica shook her head. “We’re not here to reminisce with a god. We have questions for you.”

“Ah, I guessed as much, and I even guessed what you want to ask…” Amorn’s tone carried a hint of amusement. Then he paused before speaking slowly, “A hurried ‘god’ passed through the Shadow Realm recently. I happened to see her. She should be far away by now.”

Gawain was just gathering his thoughts to start the conversation when Amorn unexpectedly dropped this information. All his words caught in his throat, replaced by shock and disbelief. Even Veronica was momentarily stunned.

“Looks like you really want to ask about this,” Amorn said calmly. “So, are you looking for her?”

“You actually saw her with your own eyes?” Gawain couldn’t help but confirm. “She passed right by you?!”

“I saw it with my own eyes. And if I’m not mistaken, that should have been the Goddess of Magic… Mylmina, if I recall correctly. Her form bore unmistakable symbols of the occult, and the aura she emitted pointed to a mortal-crafted system of magic. But she looked weak—actually, even weaker than I was when I first arrived here,” Amon said slowly, then asked, “So, what exactly happened?”

“She might be your imitator,” Gawain hesitated for a few seconds before sighing. “I’m not sure if I should tell you the details, but there’s one thing you can know right now—the title of ‘Goddess of Magic’ no longer exists in this world, at least not for the time being. Mylmina has abandoned her post, and I suspect her current state isn’t much different from yours.”

Amon fell silent for a moment. His expression gave nothing away, but Gawain thought he caught a flicker of shock in the ancient god’s eyes—the upheaval involving the Goddess of Magic had clearly shaken even this primordial “God of Nature.”

After several seconds of quiet, Amon’s voice finally broke the stillness. “So the day has truly come… it really has.”

Before Gawain or Veronica could respond, Amon narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of self-mockery in his tone. “You say her state isn’t much different from mine—I have to disagree. She dashed past me in an instant. Do you really think I’m capable of that right now?”

Veronica instinctively glanced at Amon’s body, taking in the countless shards of metal, clamps, and restraining locks layered over him. These bindings made even the slightest movement impossible, let alone running freely like the liberated Goddess of Magic, racing from the neural network all the way to the Shadow Realm…

In Gawain’s mind, a strange image surfaced—Nariel, and that upper-level narrator’s obsession with ‘legs.’ He glanced at Amon, a mischievous thought bubbling up—

You all with your eight legs, four legs, and even no legs can’t outrun someone like her…

(End of chapter)