Chapter 933: A Second Invitation

Gawain wasn’t surprised at all by the return of the little pony—Melita—from the dragon realm. Ever since he had declined the first invitation from that dragon deity, he knew this matter wouldn’t end so easily. When a god invites a mortal, it’s never a whim; they don’t just take a casual refusal and walk away. It’s just that gods are patient—they don’t mind waiting a while.

What caught him off guard was how soon the second invitation came—he hadn’t even waited through a full winter.

He nodded casually at the young envoy before him and asked, “So, does your ‘god’ have anything new to say this time?”

Melita’s expression grew serious, her tone cautious when speaking of deities. “They said you can still refuse, or delay the visit if you prefer. This is just a friendly invitation. Also, they asked me to pass along an extra message.”

“A message?” Gawain’s curiosity was piqued. “What is it?”

Melita lowered her gaze. “…Not all gods leave as harmlessly as the Goddess of Magic did. The bonds that tie gods and mortals aren’t just simple chains.”

Gawain’s eyes darkened instantly.

He had already planned to refuse again—there was no way he could afford a risky journey to distant Tarlond right now. But the message Melita relayed stirred something deeper within him. The first half was obvious—he knew not all gods would depart peacefully. The war god on Typhon’s side was a glaring example. But the latter half…

“Not just a simple chain…” That clearly hinted at something more profound.

Frowning, Gawain fell into thought. Melita smiled faintly. “Take your time. Our god doesn’t expect an immediate answer.”

Gawain chuckled. “What if I take a whole year to decide?”

“Then take a year,” Melita replied calmly. “I can find a place nearby to stay.”

Gawain was momentarily speechless, then shook his head with a wry smile. “Long-lived races really do have endless patience. Both you and your god.”

“So, will you consider it for a year?” Melita asked, curious. “If so, I’ll start looking for accommodations.”

“Wait a moment. Let me think,” Gawain waved her off, signaling her to stay put. Then he narrowed his eyes, his mind racing.

This was the second invitation from that mysterious “Dragon God”—and it came so soon after the first. Though the god seemed patient, the very fact of a second invitation so quickly suggested urgency.

This deity seemed eager to meet him, even to the point of dropping some of the usual divine reserve. If mortal standards applied to gods, Gawain was almost certain this “Dragon God” wasn’t just “curious” or “wishing to chat.”

But why? Why would a god who rules the dragons want to meet a mortal ruler from the human world? Gawain saw no obvious connection, no reason for the god’s interest—unless it had something to do with the satellite system behind him, or the “Voyager” fleet behind that.

Should he really go?

He weighed the pros and cons quickly. Rationally, this was a terrible time for a risky journey. Yet a vague intuition, coupled with the god’s cryptic message, unsettled him. This felt like a pivotal choice—not just for him, but for that Dragon God as well. It concerned the future.

Such a decision couldn’t be made on logic alone.

The instincts of a legendary warrior demanded respect. After a moment’s thought, Gawain exhaled softly and began to check his other “cards.”

He cleared his mind, focused his senses upward, and tried to extend his awareness beyond his physical body—to connect with the “other eyes” among the stars. His spirit rose higher and higher, his perception drifting beyond human senses. After crossing a certain threshold, a thunderous shift echoed in his mind, and his vision changed.

He didn’t enter the satellite’s perspective but linked directly to the “Sky Station” orbiting above the equator.

This was a taxing operation. He remembered the last time he’d lost track of time during a long connection and suffered mental exhaustion. So as soon as the link was established, he began timing himself and started issuing commands to the Sky Station’s remaining systems, checking each satellite, each space station, and the steel tombstones of facilities long forgotten for millions of years.

A miniature holographic projection of all orbital installations appeared before him, models spinning around the planet. Nearly ninety-nine percent of these models bore red warning signs, indicating offline status or severe damage threatening disintegration.

His gaze swept over the complex orbital network. Above the planet’s north pole, he spotted a space station and two small satellites passing overhead.

The planet itself was a pale blue sphere, with no visible landmasses like the Tarlond continent. Yet he knew that every inch of land and sea was monitored by at least one orbital facility at all times. From a certain perspective, even a god descending to the mortal realm couldn’t escape the “eyes” left by the Voyagers.

Unfortunately, those eyes were in poor shape.

Gawain sighed quietly and tried to communicate with a monitoring satellite above the north pole—a satellite that felt strangely familiar. If his guess was right, it shared some data link with his “core,” perhaps the same model or channel. Among all these defunct space facilities, the ones that felt familiar were the most likely to be rebooted.

At least, that was his theory.

But after several attempts, the satellite remained silent. The Sky Station’s feedback was cold and mechanical: “Target system—offline/no response. Operation—retry/no response. Facility abandoned—[garbled code].”

So much for spying on Tarlond through a satellite “mod.” A nice idea, but just a dream.

Gawain gave up on restarting the satellite and began testing other systems on the Sky Station, verifying more of his hypotheses…

…

“What is he doing?” Melita watched Gawain standing still for a long time, curious. She whispered to Amber beside her, “Is he… asleep standing up?”

“Don’t mind him. He does this a lot,” Amber said, unfazed by Gawain’s “out-of-body” state. She was expertly playing bodyguard while chatting with the envoy. “He’s ‘deep in thought.’ Though sometimes, yeah, he actually falls asleep…”

She shook her head, recalling how startled people were the first few times Gawain entered this trance-like state.

To be honest, even though she appeared carefree, Amber had been genuinely worried back then. After all, this legendary knight had died once before. No one could say how long a person who’d come back from death could last. Of course, that was a worry of the past. Now Amber was confident that this resurrected hero was in peak condition—strong enough to toss her against a wall with one hand, and likely to live another forty millennia…

Just as Amber’s mind began to wander, Gawain’s voice suddenly broke the silence, startling both her and Melita: “I will go.”

His gaze fixed on the envoy.

Melita froze, surprised that after all this thought, Gawain had actually agreed to the invitation from Tarlond. After a few seconds, she hesitated, then asked uncertainly, “You’ve made up your mind?”

“I have. In fact, I’m quite interested in Tarlond,” Gawain nodded, then added, “But I can’t leave just yet.”

“Do you need time to prepare?” Melita asked, unsurprised. “I understand your position and responsibilities—it makes sense you’d need to arrange things carefully before leaving.”

Gawain gave a short “hm.” “I do need to prepare. And there’s an important matter I must personally oversee first. I won’t leave until it’s settled.”

Melita’s curiosity deepened. “An important matter?”

Gawain glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips. “Looks like you just returned to the human world recently. Otherwise, you’d have heard some rumors and guessed what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, I just came back to Loren continent today—didn’t even stop before coming to see you,” Melita smiled faintly. “Did I miss something?”

Gawain nodded. “The Goddess of Magic has fallen. I have to personally oversee a very important funeral.”

Melita was speechless.

The envoy froze as if turned to stone, her smile vanished. Amber seized the moment and exclaimed, “You’re really going to the dragon’s realm!?”

“It’s necessary,” Gawain said with a half-smile. “In a way, this might be the greatest diplomatic breakthrough since the founding of the Cecil Empire—we’ll establish some connection with the dragons.”

Amber’s eyes widened. She clearly sensed this was no simple matter. But before she could say more, Melita had recovered from her shock and stared at Gawain in disbelief. After a long pause, she finally found her voice: “The Goddess of Magic has fallen?! And there’s a funeral?!”

“You should keep an eye on the newspapers soon,” Gawain smiled and nodded. “There will be extensive coverage.”

“Extensive coverage too?!” Melita’s eyes went wide. “This is public knowledge?”

For a moment, the dragon in human form felt dizzy and disoriented. She couldn’t tell if she was hallucinating. She’d only just left the human world, yet so many wild changes had taken place on Loren continent!

As a “simple agent of the Mithril Treasury,” and having been resting at home recently, she hadn’t followed any news. Naturally, she had no idea about the fall of the Goddess of Magic.

Faced with Melita’s shock and questions, Gawain only wore a mysterious smile. He neither explained further nor raised new questions.

Watching Miss My Little Pony—who always carries herself with such elegance—reveal this rare look of stunned bewilderment was, in fact, quite amusing.

…

A few minutes later, Melita stepped out of Cecil Palace’s garden.

Walking through the still bustling, lively city streets, this humanoid dragon from Talrond couldn’t help but glance back at the rather modest “palace” one more time, a strange expression flickering across her face.

Her fingers brushed against a few tubular objects she carried close at hand—custom-made vacuum injectors filled with a concentrated enhancer that could stabilize her mind even in human form. She had prepared them especially for today’s meeting.

Before seeing High Lord Gawain, she had steeled herself to risk another heart episode (both physically and mentally). Though simply delivering an invitation shouldn’t have been too dangerous, her many past injuries had taught her to be ready for any “accidental wounds” during conversations. Yet, surprisingly, today’s talk with Gawain passed without incident. The enhancer went unused, and the new safety valves installed near her heart remained untouched.

Still, Melita felt her heart pounding wildly—each and every beat thudding loudly.

A mortal king preparing to hold a funeral for a god…

The agent shook her head slowly, withdrawing her gaze, a peculiar smile playing at the corners of her eyes.

Even “ordinary” topics—those not involving the “steel seal”—could be deadly enough.

She set off, heading deeper into this now somewhat familiar human city.

Looks like she’d be staying here a while longer. Best to arrange accommodations early—she needed a comfortable place to settle, to properly witness that… mortal farewell to a deity.

(End of chapter)