Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1116: Chapter 1115: A Place with Peculiar Style

Queen Belsetia stood in front of that seemingly thin energy shield and suddenly found herself transported back many years to the moment she first sat on the Sovereignty Chair, first connected her nervous system to the AI cluster of the Sacred Stars Temple, listening to the chaotic, incomprehensible machine souls explode in her mind. It was the same sense of bewilderment, as if the confidence built over the years suddenly wavered, leaving only an unpredictable future ahead.

She remembered how she had fallen into a semi-conscious state on the Sovereignty Chair, sinking into negotiations, learning, and adaptation with those ancient AIs for several hours. Although later recorders noted that she was the best "ruler" of all time, she still did not wish to recall that state of complete loss of self-control.

Belsetia shook her head, driving away the inexplicable memories and distracting thoughts from her mind. At the same time, she stepped forward, crossing that thin energy shield, and the boundless, dark and sinking shadow realm enveloped her.

This was a... a world of sensory anomalies.

The keen sensory system of the silver elves immediately made a judgment. Belsetia subconsciously wrinkled her nose at an "empty scent" that made her frown. She felt the hard ground beneath her feet, experiencing a moderate gravity and a neither cold nor hot temperature, clearly seeing every detail around her in the darkness. Everything she encountered seemed fine, but upon careful consideration, Belsetia sensed an incredibly vast emptiness from this "shadow realm." The orderly laws of the material world she was familiar with had somehow altered here, though she couldn’t specify how.

Afterward, the Silver Empress began noticing the desolate, chaotic environment of the shadow realm and the strange, fragmented state of the distant land.

"This really is a... desolate place," she couldn’t help but say, "Is this where our gods reside?"

"It doesn’t quite fit to say ’reside,’ but that’s essentially the case," Gawain, beside her, commented while gently pushing her from behind. "Keep moving forward—the Anti-Divine Barrier is operating at full power, so you don’t have to worry about divine mental contamination here. But we can’t stay too long; this system is still in the testing phase, and the backend servers can only remain stable for a limited time."

Belsetia realized that countless people and devices were likely working hard behind this meeting. The cutting-edge technology here was backed by a significant investment of human and material resources. She promptly nodded and proceeded forward with Gawain.

The sacred brilliance rose like a hill, and as Belsetia got closer, her heart began to pound. She finally started to see some details within that radiance—a colossal figure and intertwined, broken objects resembling debris, along with numerous ancient magical devices arrayed around. Finally, she halted at a sufficient distance, gazing up at the sacred, radiant figure.

The pure white giant stag lay on the fragmented earth, as awe-inspiring, beautiful, and majestic as depicted in all holy texts. However, unlike in the holy texts, there was no towering tree called "Samsara," no city termed "Life," nor was there a "Death" grand graveyard here. Surrounding the God of Nature were numerous shocking remnants—twisted alloys and crystals even pierced through the stag’s body, like giant nails pinning this divine, powerful creature to the ground, presenting a terrifying sight.

Belsetia’s eyes widened in an instant, the unforeseen scene took her breath away. She had imagined countless times how the God of Nature might appear before her, but never envisaged such a scene. Instinctively, she stepped forward, but before she could speak, the sacred giant stag opened its eyes. The eyes, more translucent than any worldly gem, emanated a soft white light, halting all of Belsetia’s movements and speech.

"Hello, little one," Amon’s voice suddenly rang out as if resonating directly within her mind, "Welcome to my little courtyard."

Belsetia parted her lips. Gawain’s hand lightly tapped on her shoulder, a small gesture that helped her unfrozen nerves regain function, allowing her to finally speak: "Are... are you the God of Nature?"

A terribly awkward opening—days of planning and preparation were all for nothing.

The moment she spoke, the Silver Empress felt deeply regretful. She had envisioned presenting herself in a composed manner during this first "conversation with a god," only to nearly spoil the situation with such an opening, completely diverging from her expectations, and even seeming somewhat foolish. Yet, inexplicably, she sensed that the sacred giant stag was smiling after she spoke.

This was, in fact, impossible—the stag had no other movement than opening its eyes, no change in expression, certainly no smile. Yet Belsetia claimed to feel such a sensation, thinking she saw the other’s smile.

Amon indeed was smiling, his amusement well hidden in his heart. He perceived that the empress was somewhat at a loss, but this was within his expectations—not everyone was Gawain Cecil or an ancient Defier. For ordinary mortals, it’s already a miracle that they remain standing the first time they face him. This impact was unrelated to any mental contamination from the divine and naturally couldn’t be blocked by the "Anti-Divine Barrier."

Moreover, another essential factor was present: Belsetia was a silver elf. Though she might have personally shed belief in the God of Nature, the imprint placed upon their race had not entirely faded. As a long-lived elf, this imprint affected her more profoundly than the mental Steel Stamp that also constrained humans, and this internal influence... was impervious to the Anti-Divine Barrier.

"Don’t be nervous," Amon’s voice echoed again, now more serene, "Try to relax, forget about both our identities... Just be an ordinary guest so that we can have a decent conversation."

Belsetia finally perceived her condition improving somewhat, as if through the passage of time and these simple exchanges, her soul gradually "adapted" to some kind of "pressure." She inhaled deeply, feeling the physical and mental calmness unfold and subsequently lifted her head, giving a slightly embarrassed smile: "I’m sorry, I was a bit out of sorts."

No sooner had she spoken than a gentle, melodious yet authoritative and sacred female voice identical to Amon’s suddenly descended from above: "Actually, you’ve handled it quite well, better than what Amon and I wagered."

Belsetia almost jumped in fright, instinctively tilting her head to look towards the voice’s source. Only then did she notice another grand figure had quietly descended before her, immense like a clock tower, resembling a woman in a complex court gown, though her lower half exuded a mist-like chaotic ambiguity—the lady was gazing down at her, her upper half showing a clear female form, yet her face seemed veiled with a thin layer, revealing only a glimpse of an astonishingly beautiful visage and a pair of eyes brimming with arcane magic.

Belsetia was astounded, but strangely, when facing this mysteriously appearing lady with godly form, she didn’t find her thoughts as chaotic or her soul as turbulent as when confronting Amon. Instead, there was mere bewilderment, not hindering her from vocalizing her inquiry: "Who... who are you?!

"Ah, you may just call me Mirmina—and feel free to add ’Miss’ afterward," the former Goddess of Magic responded with a tone laced with humor, "Hello, little one of the silver elves."

"Mirmina?!" Belsetia paused momentarily, swiftly realizing the identity behind that name. She stared in astonishment at the lady exhibiting a godly form, her thoughts blurting out, "The Goddess of Magic? The fallen Goddess of Magic?!"

Suddenly, she recalled events from last year, the monumental "funeral" jointly hosted by the Cecil Empire and Typhon Empire, widely disseminated eulogies across various Realm of the Mortals, those commemorative activities... She realized, abruptly turning to Gawain beside her, finding him wearing an enigmatic smile.

"This portion of information will be disclosed in high-authority files of the theocracy Authority Council soon, and all major leaders of nations will come to know the truth," Gawain spread his hands, "As for now, keep it confidential."

"So... the Goddess of Magic is actually alive, the so-called ’fall’ was merely a facade," Belsetia was dumbfound, "This was to release her from her deity position... another experiment by the theocracy Authority Council?"

"Don’t be quick to speculate on so much; although your guesses are mostly correct," Emana’s voice came from above, interrupting Queen Belsetia’s words, "that funeral was indeed to further sever my connection with the mortal world, but the entire act of detaching from the divine seat was my own plan—Gawain Cecil cooperated a little bit."

Queen Belsetia listened, slowly nodding, despite the doubts in her heart, she vaguely understood many things. Then she looked up at Emana again, hesitated for a while, and couldn’t help but ask, "Then... what are you doing here? Could it be that... as long as gods safely detach from their divine seats, they all gather in this place?"

"There’s no such rule," Emana said casually, her gigantic form suddenly descended—her lower half condensed into a cloud, squatting on the side, though even squatting she was tall enough that others had to look up, "and as for me... you needn’t worry, I’m just here to watch the fun."

Belsetia: "...?!"

The Silver Empress felt her mind freeze for a moment.

In this mysterious defied Court, at a scene where mortals communicate with gods, a goddess arrived uninvited, just squatting on the side, declaring herself as merely here to watch the fun... This quaint development left Queen Belsetia’s mind stalled, and the impact was even comparable to suddenly confronting a deity directly, to the point where even Gawain beside her was a bit worried—should he have given Belsetia a bit more of a heads-up before this?

But fortunately, the weird and awkward atmosphere did not last long. The Silver Empress’s strong will quickly exerted its influence, forcefully restraining this chaotic scene. She forced her attention back to Amoen, the Giant Stag, taking a deep breath and asked, "How should I address you now?"

She did not address him as "Master"—as the nominal Supreme Priestess of the Druids, she ought to have done so without hesitation.

This inquiry already indicated her stance.

Amoen appeared very satisfied with this, his voice sounded joyful: "Just call me by my name, little one... Belsetia, just call me by my name. Ah, you can add ’sir’ at the end."

Belsetia hesitated for a moment, then cautiously called: "Amoen... sir?"

"Hmm, very good."

"You seem to be gravely injured," Belsetia slightly relaxed, and her gaze fell upon those remnants reminiscent of some sort of torture device, "These things are...?"

"Explorations made for freedom, a small price paid under recklessness," Amoen commented wittily about his actions three thousand years ago, "In order to detach from the divine seat, I crashed into something rather solid... almost didn’t crash through."

"To detach from the divine seat..." Belsetia was taken aback, slowly responding, "You mean the White Starfall three thousand years ago?"

"In the world of mortals, that collision is indeed referred to as such," Amoen slowly replied.

Belsetia blinked, subconsciously glancing in Gawain’s direction. She saw that he still carried that faint smile, standing aside as if indifferent, with seemingly no intent to involve himself.

Just like the Goddess of Magic squatting not far away, was this ’Wanderer from Outer Realm’ also just here to ’watch the fun’?

The Silver Empress suddenly gained an understanding—this meeting today would likely reveal truths far beyond her entire imagination.

"Tell me about the elves’ current situation," the voice of Amoen, the Giant Stag, rang in her mind, interrupting Queen Belsetia’s wandering thoughts, "For three thousand years, I’ve consciously avoided paying attention to the realm of elves and have blocked all information about you... My limited information comes from Gawain Cecil, but he is not an elf."

Belsetia looked up at the sacred Giant Stag, drew a breath, and slowly said, "...We are struggling on the edge of a vortex."

...

In the spacious and bright "Hatching Room" of the Cecil Palace, Enya had just placed a freshly read newspaper onto a nearby bookshelf—that newly delivered bookshelf rested against the wall, filled with all sorts of leisure reading material, not only recent newspapers of the Cecil Empire but also compilations of various magazines from the past two years, as well as folklore and novel scripts collected from different places. The numerous readings filled up almost an entire wall of the bookshelf, adding a lot of vitality to the otherwise cold and monotonous Hatching Room.

"Alas, just reading newspapers is a bit boring," the golden giant egg stood on its base, muttering softly to itself, "I wonder when they’ll bring the Magic Web Terminal..."

A knock on the door interrupted the golden giant egg’s self-talk.

Enya looked towards the door in surprise—few people needed to knock before entering this room, but she still politely said, "Come in."

The next second, the door of the Hatching Room was gently pushed open from outside, and a large metal sphere floated in. The surface of the sphere depicted a joyful yet amusing smile, which turned towards Enya’s direction.

"Hello, I’m here to install the device."

The metal sphere with the cheerful amusing smile said politely.