Chapter 989: The Turning of Cecil

High King Gawain had returned.

The massive wings of the blue dragon blotted out the sky. This colossal creature flew straight from the north, unhidden and unmasked, heading directly toward the imperial capital of Cecil. Everyone living in the region witnessed the dragon’s arrival firsthand. In other parts of the world, or in days gone by, such a sight would have sent ordinary people into a panic—bards and scholars might have linked it to a regional catastrophe. But when the people of Cecil saw that dragon, most felt nothing but joy and hope. The oppressive atmosphere brought on by the sudden outbreak of war seemed to vanish in an instant.

After all, it was on a dragon just like this that their emperor had departed many days ago.

Gawain stood behind Melita’s shoulder blades, looking down as the familiar cityscape rapidly drew closer. As the dragon swept over the banks of the Whitewater River, he couldn’t help but murmur softly, “Cecil… your emperor has returned.”

His quiet words did not escape the keen ears of the half-elf beside him. Amber’s long, pointed ears twitched, and she quickly turned her head. “Hey, why the sudden sentimentality?”

Gawain quickly put on a serious face. “…Nothing. Just a sudden feeling.”

Amber gave him a puzzled look. Though she didn’t detect anything particularly odd in his vague remark, her instincts told her this was worth remembering—maybe even a flirtatious line.

The half-elf was always sharp.

Moments later, the blue dragon landed smoothly on the plaza beside the Cecil Palace. Officials from the Council of State, led by Hetty, and palace attendants were already waiting on the open ground.

The dragon’s wings lowered, forming a gentle ramp. Gawain was the first to appear at the top. As his tall figure emerged, backlit by the sun, the entire plaza erupted in applause and cheers.

Hetty, standing at the front of the crowd, openly exhaled in relief, feeling a heavy weight lift from her heart. She stepped forward, ready to reach out and welcome the return of her ancestor—but before she could, a figure moved faster. Rebecca, unable to contain her excitement, dashed past her aunt without regard for protocol or “ladylike” decorum. She was the first to reach beneath the dragon’s wing, grabbing Gawain’s arm as he touched down. “Ancestor, you’re finally back!”

Gawain was used to this girl’s personality and, since this wasn’t a formal occasion—at least not one requiring official video footage—he just smiled wryly, ruffled Rebecca’s hair, and then turned to the equally resigned Hetty. “Let’s keep the formalities brief. Given the circumstances, we need to get back on track quickly.”

“Of course. I knew you’d say that,” Hetty nodded immediately. “Though I wanted you to rest first, I’m sure you won’t listen. The reports have been sent to your study. Victoria and Lord Bertram, the Grant Chancellor, are ready to connect at any time. The military and intelligence departments are also prepared for your summons.”

“I want to speak with Anton first, get a clearer picture,” Amber said hurriedly as she dismounted behind Gawain. “I hope that kid’s reliable this time.”

Veronica was the last to leave the dragon’s wing ramp. She glanced at the crowd, then approached Gawain. “I need to consult with the High Priest about the War God’s church. Please allow me to leave first.”

In the blink of an eye, everyone had their tasks arranged. The efficient rulers of Cecil showed no attachment to traditional ceremony or protocol. But Gawain remembered there was one “guest” who didn’t belong to Cecil. He turned back to Melita, still standing in her dragon form on the plaza.

“If you—”

“I’d love to stay as a guest, but this time the situation is special. I want to return to Tal’Rond first,” Melita’s deep voice rumbled before Gawain could finish. She lowered her elegantly curved neck—a polite and proper gesture for a dragon. “I just tested the connection with the Mithril Ring. Somehow, the communication has mysteriously restored… I don’t know how, but you should still be able to reach me through it.”

Her tone was calm and measured, but Gawain could sense the anxiety and unease beneath her composed exterior. She seemed to suspect something was amiss in Tal’Rond and was eager to depart.

Of course, Melita’s unease wasn’t just about the minor “glitch” in the Mithril Ring. It was more likely tied to Gawain’s two secret talks with the Dragon God, the unusual events at the Upper Sanctuary, and the recent divine disturbances across the Loren Continent. The normally flawless Omega system’s “malfunction” had become a trigger, setting off the dragon’s instincts.

Gawain, as a human, felt he had no right to interfere. He nodded slightly and casually reminded her, “Be careful on the way back—you’ve been flying intensely for a long time.”

Melita shook her head slightly, a hint of a smile in her voice. “Don’t worry. I’m confident in my stamina. Please, everyone, give me some space—I’m taking off.”

Moments later, the blue dragon beat her mighty wings and soared skyward, blotting out the city below. After several bursts of acceleration, she became a mere shadow on the horizon, quickly vanishing from sight.

…

Gawain returned to his familiar study. He looked around at the well-known desk, bookshelves, carpet, and ceiling. Familiar faces—Rebecca, Hetty, and others—were here as well.

His mood finally settled.

Tal’Rond was an advanced place, comfortable to live in. Neon-lit cities, automated homes, and a variety of entertainment options—honestly, it sometimes reminded Gawain of his hometown’s urban life. At least in terms of prosperity and modernity, the two shared some similarities. Yet, even so, Gawain always felt a certain awkwardness living in the dragon realm.

He never quite understood where that awkwardness came from, vaguely attributing it to “not being used to sleeping in a strange bed.” But now, he felt he was beginning to grasp it.

He sat behind his desk, spotless thanks to Betty’s cleaning. His usual tools were arranged within easy reach. He looked up to see Hetty standing just to his side, with Rebecca a little further back, seemingly wanting to speak but too nervous to step forward.

Gawain smiled, realizing he had fully integrated here. That dazzling Tal’Rond, which reminded him of home, was ultimately just another foreign land.

“Tell me about the current situation,” he said to Hetty. “Remote communication wasn’t smooth enough before. I need more details.”

Hetty nodded and began summarizing the events inside and outside the empire since his departure. She then detailed everything that had happened since the Typhon Cataclysm worsened: the sudden attack on the Longwind Line, the battle at Winterwolf Fortress, Andersa’s surrender, and the recent intelligence from near the Winterwolf defenses.

Throughout, she explained the Council of State’s responses to the changing situation, the plans of the Triumvirate, and their future considerations.

Gawain barely interrupted, listening intently and nodding most of the time. Occasionally, he offered opinions or asked for clarifications. His brow furrowed at times but gradually relaxed as Hetty’s report progressed.

By the end, a faint smile appeared on his face.

Rebecca looked on, puzzled by the change in her ancestor’s expression. Not skilled at reading emotions, she couldn’t grasp what Gawain was thinking.

Finally, Hetty finished her lengthy report. Gawain’s relaxed, pleased smile grew more evident. He exhaled softly and looked up at Hetty. “Very good—I’m glad to see that everything has been running smoothly in my absence.”

“Of course,” Hetty replied immediately. “Maintaining order while you were away was the command you left us.”

Gawain smiled. “Indeed… but it was my greatest worry. Now, I don’t have to worry anymore.”

He meant it sincerely. For a long time, he had fretted over whether the order he built was stable enough to hold on its own, whether it could function steadily without him. This unexpected test had brought reassuring results.

Even with his absence and the severe crisis, the Council of State had not fallen into chaos. Everything was orderly: public opinion, supplies, personnel movements, daily life—all handled properly by their respective departments. The Triumvirate firmly held the empire’s helm.

Of course, this came with caveats: Gawain hadn’t been gone long; everyone knew he could return at any time; General Andersa had made the right choice, preventing total collapse; many departments were still running on inertia, not yet feeling the strain of prolonged war. Still, the Council and Triumvirate’s performance gave Gawain great peace of mind.

Even Hetty, usually composed and serene, couldn’t hide her happy smile.

She took a deep breath and asked, “Do you have any feedback on our response plan?”

“Things are going well for now,” Gawain said. “After taking Winterwolf Fortress, you wisely held the line instead of rushing forward. That’s the right call. This is truly a divine disaster. The ‘normal’ people of Typhon clearly don’t want war, but their armies, driven by the War God’s faith, will keep attacking their ‘enemies.’ Military conflict is unavoidable, but we don’t need to push deep into Typhon’s territory to solve their problems.

“At this stage, besides holding the line, our main task is to understand Typhon’s internal situation and their response to the catastrophe. If we’re going to intervene, it should be from that angle. On the front lines, just keep the War God—who’s basically done himself in through his own foolishness—under control.”

Hearing her ancestor describe the terrifying mad god as “someone who foolishly killed himself,” Hetty was momentarily stunned, then couldn’t help but laugh.

The tension she’d carried for so long finally eased a little.

And that was exactly Gawain’s intention. From the moment he saw Hetty, he knew the pressure on his descendant had been immense.

“About the situation inside Typhon,” after a brief pause, Gawain continued, “has there been any word back from Unit 25?”

“Not yet,” Hetty shook her head. “The situation in Typhon is still unclear. Given that some of their top officials have already shown signs of corruption by the War God, Aldern is likely to launch a large-scale investigation and purge. To protect our informants, the intelligence department has suspended all active contact on covert channels—including the Trajectory Project’s dark lines and the Unit 25 direct line. But if anything urgent happens, they’ll send messages out, as long as it’s safe to do so.”

Gawain thought for a moment, then nodded. “…Yes, that’s the right approach.”

He turned to Hetty, about to ask more questions, when suddenly a familiar mental signal surged into his mind.

“Ancestor?” Hetty looked at him, puzzled by his sudden daze. “Are you alright?”

Gawain raised a hand to signal her to wait, then focused intently on the brief message coming from Daniel. The message was extremely concise—so much so that it didn’t even require full immersion in the network to receive. Clearly, it had been compressed and encoded for quick transmission. In these tense and dangerous times, such caution was absolutely necessary.

After a moment, Gawain looked up and gave Hetty a faint smile. “What a coincidence… Unit 25 just contacted me.”

Hetty’s eyes widened. “Is there new information?”

“Two things,” Gawain said. “First, Unit 25 has roughly figured out how that ‘declaration of war’ leaked out of the Obsidian Palace. Second—and more importantly—Rosetta Augustus has declared a state of emergency in Typhon. Taking advantage of the situation, she enacted three emergency laws in a single day: closing the parliament, sealing the city with the royal guard, and… temporarily revoking all exemptions previously granted to the national church.”

Gawain let out a soft breath, his tone tinged with admiration. “…Not bad at all.”

(End of chapter)