Chapter 951: Casual Talk
Casual talk.
That phrase stirred a brief flicker of strangeness in Gawain’s mind—ever since arriving in Talrond, that odd sensation hadn’t quite left him.
The dragon realm was nothing like he had imagined. The dragons themselves, their culture, even the true nature of the Dragon God, all defied his expectations. And most surprisingly, the Dragon God’s attitude was unlike anything he’d anticipated.
Still, Gawain had prepared himself mentally for any scenario before setting out. Witnessing that sky-darkening, chaotic “Disordered Dragon” had only steeled his resolve. He showed no sign of surprise, simply nodding calmly before casually settling into the most ornate chair nearest to him.
A cup of golden-red tea appeared out of thin air, filling the gilded cup before him.
The Dragon God Enya took a seat opposite Gawain, then glanced up at Amber and Veronica. “Are you going to stand?”
Veronica hesitated for a moment, then sat down to Gawain’s left. Seeing this, Amber gained courage and took the seat to Gawain’s right, deliberately saying as she sat, “Well then, I’m sitting too!”
Once everyone was seated, Helagor stood quietly behind Enya like a loyal attendant.
The room fell into a heavy silence. No one seemed sure how to break the ice in this extraordinarily unusual meeting, or perhaps the deity was waiting for the guests to speak first. Gawain wasn’t in a rush. He lifted the cup and took a slow sip. Then, his expression shifted to one of surprise.
“This tea… it’s good. But the flavor is… peculiar.”
“It’s something I created during my leisure time,” Enya said with a faint smile. “There are billions of mortals in the world, each with their own thoughts and tastes. Their desires for food and drink alone are countless. So I made ‘Reflections’—a drink that embodies what you most desire in your heart.”
Gawain held the cup, intrigued by the Dragon God’s words. He looked thoughtfully at the deity before him. “As the number of mortals grows, so do their wishes. Even with divine power, you can’t fulfill them all, can you?”
He took another sip—despite the formal setting, it had been too long since he’d tasted something like cola.
Enya’s gaze lingered on Gawain for two seconds before a more pronounced smile appeared—like a solitary musician finally finding a kindred spirit after a thousand years. “You understand a great deal.”
Gawain raised his cup slightly. “‘Reflections’ is indeed a clever way to address the problem of countless mortal wishes that can’t all be granted.”
“Unfortunately, one cup of ‘Reflection’ can’t solve everything. Miracles have limits—what’s limitless are divine acts. But even gods… do not believe in miracles.”
Gods don’t believe in miracles?
Gawain raised an eyebrow, took another sip, then looked at Enya seriously. “Do you have a bigger cup?”
Drinking cola from a cup smaller than 300 milliliters was an insult to the drink—a last stand for any true cola lover.
The Dragon God seemed caught off guard by the request, but after a few seconds of surprise, a smile curled at the corner of her lips, amusement clear in her tone. “Of course—I’m beginning to appreciate you more, Gawain Cecil. You might be one of the most interesting humans I’ve ever met.”
Gawain accepted the ambiguous compliment with a calm nod. The cup in his hand transformed into a large oak mug adorned with golden bands, filled again with that strange yet unmistakably cola-like “Reflection.” Satisfied, he steered the conversation toward his original purpose.
“Let’s get down to business. Though we call it casual talk, you know we didn’t cross an entire ocean and continent just to chat. I have many questions, and I hope you can answer them.”
“If I can,” Enya replied. “If you know enough about gods, you’d understand they can’t reveal everything to mortals. But I’m somewhat special, so I know more and can answer more—at least more than that child named Melita.”
Gawain nodded and asked directly, “Do you know about the other gods?”
“Somewhat. Gods find it difficult to communicate with each other, but I have my ways to grasp their general situations.”
“Do you know… about the war god worshipped on the continent of Loren? His condition is unusual, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He’s entering the final stage of madness. I can’t say exactly when he’ll cross the threshold, but he’s very close.”
With the topic opened, Gawain pressed on. “Is the war god’s madness related to changes in the nature of war? Besides the shift in warfare and the god’s own ‘inclinations,’ are there other factors accelerating his descent?”
“The changing nature of war is one cause, but only one. As for other factors beyond the warfare shift and his tendencies… I’m afraid there aren’t any. The balance of gods is far more fragile than mortals imagine. These two alone are enough.”
“Is there any hope then?” Gawain asked, unable to hold back.
“No hope. Prepare for divine war.”
Gawain, Amber, and Veronica exchanged stunned looks.
“You all look surprised,” Enya said calmly. “But this isn’t an answer that should shock you.”
“I just didn’t expect you to be so blunt,” Gawain admitted. “I thought you’d be more diplomatic…”
“There’s no need for diplomacy,” the Dragon God said. “You need an answer, and it’s not complicated—so I tell you plainly.”
“Alright, I think I understand your style,” Gawain sighed, then reorganized his thoughts. “But do you really think mortals can stand against the war god at this point?”
“That, I can’t answer. I don’t know how the war god will manifest or intervene in this world. That’s your god, and ultimately, you must face him yourselves. But I can tell you this—at least for now, you have a chance to win.”
“‘For now’…” Gawain caught the key phrase immediately, murmuring to himself, “Because over time, gods grow stronger… and right now, they’re not yet invincible.”
Enya caught his muttering and fixed him with a scrutinizing gaze. “I’m surprised—you know more truth than I expected.”
Gawain met the gaze calmly, weighing his words briefly before speaking honestly. “I learned everything from the God of Nature.”
Enya fell silent, her eyes deepening as if plunged into profound thought. After a few seconds, she broke the silence softly. “The God of Nature… so he still exists.”
“From his own perspective, he’s gone. But from Amon’s perspective, he’s still alive,” Gawain nodded. “Though he remains imprisoned for now, and likely will be for a long time. He doesn’t want to return to the mortal realm yet—and I agree.”
Suddenly, Enya seemed very interested in Amon’s state. For the first time, she took the initiative to ask Gawain questions. “After stepping down from divinity, Amon retained his selfhood?”
Gawain was happy to answer. In this inherently unequal “conversation,” he needed as much leverage as possible. Having control over the questions was a rare advantage.
“It seems so. Though I never met the God of Nature in his divine form, from what I see now, aside from being unable to move, he’s doing quite well.”
“Looks like he… he’s told you many things. As a former god, he seems to trust you.”
“Maybe because so few can communicate with him,” Gawain said with a hint of humor. “Though he’s no longer a god, he still retains a divine body. Not every mortal can approach him and talk.”
Noticing Enya was pondering, Gawain paused, waiting for her to speak.
After a moment, she raised her eyes again, asking an apparently unrelated question. “I heard you held a funeral for the Goddess of Magic.”
Gawain cleared his throat. “Yes… that did happen.”
“You held a nationwide ceremony, scattered ‘holy ashes’ before millions, and even wrote a eulogy for a deity yourself.”
Gawain coughed again. “That’s true. But I had a purpose—I did it to…”
Enya interrupted. “The Goddess of Magic, like the God of Nature, is trying to step down from divinity—is that right?”
Gawain felt a bit uneasy but nodded under the Dragon God’s abyssal gaze. “Yes, that’s correct.”
Enya was silent for a moment, then murmured as if sighing, “Then it seems she succeeded…”
Whether it was his imagination or not, Gawain sensed a trace of envy in that sigh.
He didn’t press further—his intuition told him the Dragon God wouldn’t answer such questions directly.
Her gaze then shifted to Veronica, who had remained silent and still throughout.
“To be honest, when I invited ‘Gawain Cecil,’ I didn’t expect to see a living ‘Gondorian’ as well,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’m glad—it’s an unexpected gift.”
Veronica frowned immediately, her fingers tightening unconsciously. “You… noticed?”
“Don’t think me blind or narrow-minded,” Enya said. “Though I dwell in these ancient palaces, my sight is sharp. That brief, brilliant mortal empire left a deep impression. I once thought it might even develop into… but alas, it all ended suddenly.”
The Dragon God shook her head, genuinely lamenting the fall of the Gondorian Empire seven centuries ago. Then she looked at Veronica again.
“You were a shining gem among those humans—so bright you caught my attention. I glimpsed you from afar, but only once.
“When your glorious empire fell, Talrond itself trembled. Without your knowledge, some dragons even mourned for you.
“I don’t know how you survived. Your current state is… peculiar to me. And I cannot see into the deepest parts of your soul. I only sense some discord within. Would you care to explain?”
Veronica stared into the Dragon God’s eyes for a long moment before slowly lowering her gaze. It was as if she were battling some inner urge, but her voice came out steady and resolute: “It’s just the price of survival.”
“In that case, I won’t ask any more,” the Dragon God said amicably, nodding. To everyone’s surprise, He didn’t press Veronica further. Instead, His attention shifted to Amber, who was quietly sipping her tea. “You’re another unexpected surprise… an interesting little girl.”
“Hey,” Amber immediately set down her cup, sitting up a bit tensely before leaning forward with curiosity. “Wait, I’m an accident too?”
“Who put you into this body?” the Dragon God asked, genuinely intrigued.
Amber froze.
Two seconds later, the half-elf’s eyes widened. “A shadow dweller asked me the same thing before! How… how did you figure that out?”
“I happen to know a bit about the Shadow Realm—though I am not the deity who rules over its power,” the Dragon God interrupted gently. “Shadow dwellers, huh… That’s why I was surprised when I saw you. Child, who injected you into this body? That’s quite an extraordinary feat.”
“This is tied to a secret experiment from the days of Gondor,” Gawain glanced at Amber, making sure she wasn’t reacting before he spoke. “An experiment that transformed and fused living beings between the Shadow and the mortal world. Amber is the only successful subject.”
“…Gondor again,” the Dragon God slowly shook His head. “That makes it all the more regrettable.”
Suddenly, Amber seemed to remember something and excitedly blurted out, “Oh! Speaking of the gods of shadow, have you figured out my connection to the Shadow Goddess? Listen, I’m a chosen of the Shadow God! Do you know the Shadow Goddess?”
“Shadow Goddess? Lady of the Night?” The Dragon God didn’t seem bothered by Amber’s sudden boldness. Hearing her words sparked a flicker of interest, and He studied her carefully once more before shaking His head. “You do carry an incredibly strong shadow’s protection, but I see no sign of any faith or bond with a deity… not even the slightest trace.”
(End of chapter)