Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1111: Chapter 1110: The Retired Dragon God

Abandoned protocol.

Of course, Gawain hadn’t forgotten the "intimidation tactic" he used when he initially traveled to Talronde—leveraging the access upgrade brought by Firmament Station to designate part of the Voyager’s space facilities as orbital debris and accurately dropping them to "permitted areas" on the planet. Without protection, the residual energy in those space facilities and their own destructive power would be enough to wreak havoc on the targeted areas. The extent of this havoc might even surpass that of divine calamities.

After all, divine calamities are merely the harm caused by gods losing control, whereas these facilities left by Voyagers... were originally created to slaughter gods.

Before Enya spoke, Gawain had indeed considered the abandoned protocol as an option, but after pondering for a while, he expressed his concerns: "I’ve thought about it, but the risk is too great."

A calm and unperturbed voice came from the golden egg: "Is it because you can’t guarantee an accurate hit?"

Gawain nodded with a grim expression: "It’s indeed hard to ensure an accurate hit. Although the tower is gigantic, it remains a ’small target’ for the abandoned orbital facilities. Those facilities have served for too long, and even if some attitude adjustments can be made in the abandoned process, the effectiveness is limited—there’s a greater chance they’ll end up hitting the nearby Talronde Continent."

Enya was silent for two seconds before breaking the silence: "How far off can it be? Could it deviate to the southeast corner of Talronde?"

"That shouldn’t be the case," Gawain shook his head. "I have confidence in this level of accuracy—the high tower is in the northwest offshore of Talronde, and the max deviation in an orbital bombardment would be to the west coast of the continent... wait, you mean..."

"Survivors have established a settlement in the southeastern corner, and it’s safe there. As for the western Talronde... it’s already a wasteland, so whether it faces another round of orbital bombardment doesn’t make much difference," Enya said in a very calm tone.

Gawain fixed his gaze on the golden egg’s shell, his expression becoming stern: "But there might also be survivors in the western wastelands—since Melita and her kin could survive on the southeastern coast, other dragons might also survive in western Talronde, albeit cut off from communication with the outside world by spatial rifts and polluted zones... what about those survivors?"

"It’s highly unlikely any survivors remain in western Talronde, and even if there are, they’d be very few," Enya said, her tone carrying a hint of sadness Gawain couldn’t understand, "and they probably wouldn’t survive the first few cold nights."

"...How can you be so sure?" Gawain asked instinctively.

"...The battle started in the western Omega Factory District," Enya said in a low voice. "In my limited and chaotic memory, I witnessed that land being the first to catch fire... and perhaps due to the vigilance against Inversion Tide pollution still influencing my judgment then, I didn’t hold back at all and tried my utmost to destroy all mobile targets in western Talronde."

A difficult silence arose in the room. Gawain didn’t know what to say for several seconds before he spoke: "I understand. If there are no survivors in western Talronde, then..."

"But still, have Heragor and Andar do their utmost to send teams to search a few more times," Enya suddenly said. "If you truly decide to act... let them conduct another sweep before taking action, even if the chances of finding survivors are slim..."

"Alright, I understand," Gawain interrupted, not letting her continue, "I will handle this matter cautiously—and arranging for an orbital bombardment is not something that can be decided with just a wave of the hand. Much weighing of options and situational assessments is required, so Heragor and his people will have ample time to continue their search for survivors in the wasteland... once they are capable of conducting more extensive rescue operations, I’ll have them prioritize going to western Talronde."

The current provisional government of Talronde is in a dire situation, stretched thin on both personnel and materials. According to Melita’s description, even the temporary capital of Agondale, as their main base, can usually only dispatch limited search teams to nearby areas. In such circumstances, they hardly have the opportunity to consider whether there are survivors in the continent’s west—but now the alliance has been formed, with aid supplies and construction teams soon to head to the extreme north continent, including communications, energy, and protective equipment provided by Cecil. Although these are nowhere near the creations of Talronde at its peak, in these dire times, the "Magic Trinkets" from humans are of significant impact to the impoverished dragons.

With adequate aid, many of Agondale’s initiatives will proceed without hindrance, allowing numerous precious and healthy dragons to be freed from trivial tasks such as food collection and rubble clearance. Under such circumstances, Heragor and his people should have the capacity to search for survivors in the continent’s west—before the orbital abandonment protocol is activated.

With part of his concerns lifted, Gawain sighed privately with relief and then said, "I have another concern—we can’t be sure what aftermath would result from using an orbital bombardment on the tower. Although according to your estimation, it would be directly destroyed, what if it’s not? What if it’s only half-destroyed? What if the tower is destroyed, but the Inversion Tide pollution inside escapes the scene through another means? I remember contemplating these possibilities back then... and till now, I still don’t have a clear handle on it."

"So what are you implying?"

"...I will still prioritize considering orbital bombardments, but before that, I must personally verify the situation of that high tower," Gawain said decisively after a brief contemplation. "If possible, it would be best to confirm the status of the ’Inversion Tide’ inside."

"...That would be extremely dangerous," Enya couldn’t help but warn him.

"It’s already a danger, just existing there represents an ever-expanding threat," Gawain said. "The key now is not whether I go, but who else could possibly go—of course, my decision is not made on a whim. Since I’ve planned for this, I have my contingencies."

The voice from the golden egg paused for a moment before replying with a hint of mirth, "Indeed... after all, you’re an ’Outland Wanderer,’ a ’mortal’ who once intimidated the Dragon Gods, and actually succeeded."

Gawain couldn’t help but show a slightly dubious expression: "...Why do I sense a grudge from you on this matter?"

"Of course, there’s none."

Gawain couldn’t help but scrutinize the golden egg in front of him for a while, but no matter how he looked, he couldn’t read expressions from the smooth eggshell, so he just chuckled dryly and awkwardly redirected the conversation: "In any case, let’s temporarily settle the matter like this. I will carefully formulate a feasible ’bombardment plan.’ However, I must explain that I need time—the Empire and the alliance both have countless matters awaiting my attention, and the exploration of the high tower requires considerable preparatory work, so this cannot be rushed."

"I understand," Enya immediately replied. "As long as you’re willing to act, I’m very gratified—although that tower is dangerous, its internal ’God’ is already dead, and its hazard capability is limited, so no unforeseen events should occur in the short term."

As she spoke, this God from yore suddenly couldn’t help softly laughing with an ethereal sense of lamentation, "I can wait, after all, concerning matters of that tower, I’ve already waited this long... and I am most adept at waiting."

The topic of the high tower finally concluded, and Gawain didn’t relish getting immersed in the solemn and heavy atmosphere that such discussions brought, so he shook his head and promptly looked at Enya, bringing up something lighter and of significant interest to him: "By the way, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask... you said your power has greatly weakened, and many ’authorities’ have been lost, so how much power do you have left? How many extraordinary feats can you still perform?"

Enya remained silent for a moment, but the aura emanating from the eggshell clearly condensed, as if surprised that Gawain’s focus was on this. After a while, a warm, low voice came from inside the eggshell: "Why are you interested in this? Do you intend to use my strength for something?"

Wishing you’d make cola.png.

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.

Gawain coughed lightly twice, striving to make his expression seem more serious: "I’m just curious whether the authority classified as ’miracles,’ like ’reflection,’ still exists after you cut off divine nature and left sacerdotal status. As a mere mortal, can you still create ’reflections’?"

"You’re exploring whether God can recreate ’miracles’ only with remaining power and knowledge after leaving the sacerdotal status?" The voice from the eggshell immediately became serious, "Ah... that’s indeed an approach I’ve never considered. As expected, this is a direction only you could focus on. It’s worth researching, it certainly is. I feel I have something to occupy myself with next... but miracles come in many forms, and a miracle that merely allows the creation of beverages holds little research value. Perhaps I could study something else..."

"Let’s start with the reflection," Gawain said with a solemn expression, "We should proceed step by step."

"I mean... although the reflection as a ’miracle’ is quite incredible, it’s not technically intricate enough. I have a more suitable approach..."

Gawain looked solemn: "Let’s start with the reflection."

Enya: "..."

Gawain: "..."

From the golden egg came a particularly human sigh: "Just say it directly, what flavor do you like?"

Gawain’s expression twitched slightly, and he awkwardly touched the tip of his nose: "It’s hard to describe..."

"The taste of your home planet... I remember you mentioned it, is it the taste of the Outland Wanderer’s home planet?"

Gawain thought for a moment, finally couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, the forced seriousness replaced by ease: "...You could say that."

"Then it seems there’s no shortcut... I can slowly try to recreate that delicious ’miracle’," Enya’s voice carried a hint of helplessness, followed by a touch of surprise, "But I really didn’t expect, it turns out the Outland Wanderer can also have such an emotional and... approachable side. I thought you were always rational and indifferent, like machines and magic symbols. Really interesting... You weren’t like this when we last talked."

"Your words sound more like describing gods, but I have always leaned more towards the ’human’ side from the beginning," Gawain spread his hands, "As for why last time was different from this time, the reason is simple: Last time, I was talking to the Dragonkin’s gods, this time... you’re Enya."

The golden egg fell silent, then suddenly asked: "That kind of ’taste of your home planet’, is it with ice?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I have a direction to strive for."

Gawain thought for a moment, feeling somehow the direction of this matter was a bit off, but upon reflection, it didn’t seem like a bad thing.

After all, he didn’t want Enya, this extremely special "God of Yore," to get too involved in his deeper, more core secrets too soon. Meanwhile, they did indeed need to find something for her to do in the short term, considering both aspects, she now had a seemingly harmless goal... this development was pretty good.

Besides, it should be mentioned, he had already silently arranged a "network testing project" for this God of Yore, and in the coming period, he didn’t plan to assign more tasks—this was to ensure the "purity" of the sample during the testing process.

Just at this moment, footsteps suddenly sounded from the direction of the corridor, interrupting the conversation between Gawain and Enya.

The door to the Hatching Room was pushed open, and Betty appeared in front of Gawain with a large tray in her hands—the maid, smiling happily, walked into the room and said, "Master, Lady Enya—I’ve brought the tea snacks!"

"You came just in time," Gawain said with a smile to Betty, "I haven’t had tea brewed by you in days."

Cola is good, but the taste of freshly brewed tea at home is just as wonderful.

Betty happily accepted the compliment, handing the first cup of black tea to Gawain, then adeptly picking up the teapot and heading to Enya, skillfully pouring the scorching tea onto the eggshell...

Gawain held his teacup, dumbfounded at the scene.

He had indeed heard the rumor about Betty "watering" Enya, but he hadn’t expected this so-called "watering"... was actually so roughly straightforward? Did this girl regularly do it just like this? And Enya... why did it look like she was quite enjoying it?

Gawain suddenly felt the teacup in his hand become strange and fully understood the faint tea scent on Enya’s eggshell... it was pickled in!

"Master?" Betty, noticing Gawain’s gaze after half a pot of tea had been poured, turned her head confusedly, "What’s wrong?"

Gawain’s lips twitched twice, unable to hold it in: "Betty... are you making tea eggs?"

Betty looked puzzled: "What are tea eggs?"

"A kind of food... never mind, explaining it to you is pointless," Gawain covered his head, "Just pretend I didn’t say anything."

"Oh." Betty gave a simple reply; since the master didn’t want to say, it seemed there was no need to pay attention to this matter— she quickly put the perplexing matter aside and soon followed her routine, taking a soft cloth from her pocket to start wiping Enya’s eggshell.

The sound of "squeak squeak" echoed in the Hatching Room, and Gawain put down the teacup he had finally lifted: "... Do you usually rub her like this?!"

Betty stopped again, puzzled: "What is ’rubbing’?"

Gawain: "..."

(This is my final ripple...)