Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1124: Chapter 1123: Passing On

Yes, how many twists and turns must occur for a former Imperial Duke, a blessed War God Knight, a Wolf General with extraordinary combat prowess, to ultimately become a "scholar" lost in the depths of laboratory research? And this scholar can even create math tests for his daughter all day long at the speed of thirty questions per hour—what he calls "brain entertainment"...

Andresha suddenly felt a cold chill, instinctively shuddering twice, and began to ponder how to succinctly convey the story about her father to her grandfather.

"This matter... should probably start from the winter storm at Winterwolf Fortress the year my father disappeared," the young Wolf General finally opened her mouth to break the silence, "That year, my father wasn’t surrounded by the Anzu, but was in fact faced with the followers of the Oblivion Association engaging in activities at the base of the Dark Mountain Range..."

Warm winds blew from the direction of the plains, rustling the lush flower fields and woods at Long Branch Manor, the main house’s pool shimmered with sparkles as unknown blades of grass and flower petals fell and spun across its surface, gently expanding into tiny ripples. A maidservant bent down to pick up a pretty flower petal drifting to the pool’s edge, but the petal suddenly shivered, curled as if scorched by an invisible force, crumpled together, and quickly floated off in another direction.

The maidservant raised her head, startled and anxious, instinctively glancing toward the main house but found nothing amiss.

The sound of insects chirping penetrated the open windows, and the midday summer heat gradually began spreading inside. Duke Ferdinand Wendell retracted the stray power inadvertently released, listening quietly to Andresha’s tale, his brow sometimes furrowed and smoothed, his thoughts and emotions ultimately transmuting into a long sigh after numerous emotional fluctuations.

Captured by evil cult followers, his faith wiped, twisted by dark secrets that contorted flesh and soul, falling into the dark sect, tainted with sin and corruption, ultimately pledging allegiance to a foreign nation... If not for hearing Andresha’s account, he would never have believed these events had befallen the once-prominent rising star of the Empire, happening to his son of whom he was most proud.

The old Duke couldn’t help but imagine, imagine if he were younger, in a more severe and stern age, how he might react upon learning these things: whether he would first feel sorrow as a father over Bard’s suffering, or anger as Duke Ferdinand Wendell over the tarnishing of family honor. He realized he couldn’t imagine anything—on the battlefield at Bitter Winter Castle, after witnessing the deep darkness and malice in this world, too many people underwent permanent change, including Duke Ferdinand Wendell, once known as the "Iron Grand Duke."

The old Duke sighed again—he felt old.

"Father said... he has made many mistakes and does not intend to use ’things beyond his control’ as an excuse. He said that many of the insane and depraved deeds he committed were willingly done in moments of clear rationality and thought because he was completely immersed in the Oblivion ideology and the delusion of being a savior. Although he’s pardoned today, he intends to spend the rest of his life atoning for the harm he caused on this land," Andresha nervously monitored her grandfather’s changing expressions, delivering the words Bard once told her after the elder’s two sighs. "Additionally, he says although he now serves Emperor Cecil, he has done nothing to harm Typhon interests, including revealing any military or technical secrets. He simply wants to be a diligent researcher."

"A diligent researcher..." Duke Ferdinand Wendell murmured softly, "So, he won’t return—did he mention anything he wanted to tell me?"

"He asked detailed questions about your health but didn’t leave any messages for me to relay," Andresha shook her head, "I’ve asked him; he seemed to have things to say, but... in the end, he didn’t say anything."

"I understand," the old Duke gently shook his head, apparently unsurprised, only somewhat rueful, "When he needed his father, I only regarded him as the Empire’s soldier and the family heir, and now neither identity binds him... I shouldn’t be surprised by this outcome."

"Grandfather, father..." Andresha hesitated, she wasn’t very clear about how her grandfather and father interacted, as her distant childhood memories had become vague, leaving her unsure of what to say, "He still cares about you very much."

"I know, Andresha, you don’t need to worry—I know everything," Ferdinand Wendell’s eyes showed a hint of a smile, "I am still his father after all."

Andresha slowly nodded, then couldn’t help asking: "Would you blame him for his decision? He’s given up his Typhon identity... and may remain in Cecil forever."

Ferdinand Wendell didn’t answer immediately, only contemplated in silence, suddenly recalling dreams he once had in that moment—visions indistinguishable between reality and illusion that seemed to reveal Bard’s fate through "omens" that unsettled him with confusion. Now, finally... he understood the truth confirmed behind those "omens."

After a moment, the old Duke suddenly inquired: "Do you think he’s living well there?"

"He’s living well," Andresha replied almost without hesitation, recollecting the time spent with her father at Sorinburg—while his work seemed difficult for her to comprehend, the fulfillment and solace evident on his face were genuine, "He has a new lifestyle and social circle that brings him enjoyment in his current state."

"Then there’s nothing to blame," Duke Ferdinand Wendell quietly said, "After all these years, he’s entitled to live for himself."

"Grandfather, about His Majesty..."

Duke Ferdinand Wendell slowly shook his head, intending to say something further; however, a sudden knock interrupted the elder’s actions—a royal attendant opened the door to the hall, bowing courteously: "The Duke, Madam, a royal messenger has arrived."

"A royal messenger?" Andresha confirmed with surprise, instinctively glancing at her grandfather, noticing serene composure on his face, with Duke Ferdinand Wendell slightly nodding toward the attendant: "Please let the messenger in."

Mere moments passed before the unexpected visit from the royal messenger, accompanied by two attendants each holding a long, ornate wooden box, appeared before Andresha.

The royal messenger was a middle-aged man with an aura of calm confidence, dressed in a navy blue overcoat adorned with delicate silver trim and red patterns. Andresha quietly speculated on Emperor Rosetta Augustus’s sudden purpose for dispatching a messenger, conducting standard protocol to receive this visitor from the Obsidian Palace. After brief pleasantries and greetings, Duke Ferdinand Wendell inquired about the envoy’s intentions, and the man in the navy blue overcoat smiled: "His Majesty knows that General Andresha returns to her territory today, having made great contributions to the Empire and endured a long winter imprisonment. Thus, I bring gifts of condolence—"

He turned, gesturing toward one attendant holding an ornate wooden box: "This is a Knight’s Longsword personally enchanted by Lady Windsor Maple, Head of the Royal Mage Association—a formidable weapon capable of manipulating the fierce winter force or altering gravity within a certain range, with the ability to protect its wielder from one legendary-level fatal harm at critical moments. His Majesty bestowed the name ’Bitter Winter.’ It is now yours, General Andresha."

"Thank you for His Majesty’s gift," Andresha immediately said, instructing attendants to retrieve the prestigious gift; the ornate wooden box opened revealing a sharp-edged sword, appearing coated with a layer of eternal frost. Indeed, it was a fine sword.

Even though the era of traditional warfare has passed, and individual weapons no longer influence entire battlefields in the face of powerful cluster artillery, this is still a remarkable sword.

Upon ordering the attendant to secure the gift safely, the gaze of both Andresha and Duke Ferdinand Wendell naturally fell on the other wooden box held by the second royal attendant.

"This second gift is for you, Duke Ferdinand." The messenger turned to Duke Ferdinand Wendell, his smile suddenly carrying a new sense of solemnity.

"Ever since General Bard Wendell’s sacrifice outside Winterwolf Fortress, the Wendell clan has been diligently serving the Empire for the past twenty years, making invaluable contributions. Now, with General Andresha in peril, safeguarding the elite forces of the Empire and preventing the winter war from descending into an irredeemable situation, the entire Empire should thank you and your family for your immense sacrifice and contribution.

"Here is another sword. Although it is not a legendary weapon as powerful as ’Winter’, it holds extraordinary significance: it has been His Majesty’s sword for the past twenty years, named ’Trust’.

"Originally, it had a sister sword called ’Loyalty’, which was General Bard Wendell’s sword. Unfortunately, after General Bard’s death twenty years ago, it was lost. Now, His Majesty gifts this sword to Your Grace, both to thank the Wendell family for their long-term contributions and to entrust a memory. I hope you will treat it well."

Andresha listened nervously on the side, suddenly taking a soft breath as she realized a very crucial detail in the messenger’s words—

Since the disappearance of the troop led by her father at the foot of the Dark Mountain Range twenty years ago, although almost everyone believed that the Wolf General had perished, for many years, the official stance of the Empire on this matter was classified as missing; especially the royal family, which never used the word "deceased" in any formal occasion regarding this matter!

The young Wolf General quickly realized something; she looked at her grandfather, seeing him briefly dumbfounded, then his lips trembled slightly, as if it took all his strength to finally speak: "I... thank His Majesty for this grace..."

"Please accept this gift," the messenger smiled, signaling the attendants behind him to step forward. "This is a token of His Majesty’s regard."

"Of course, certainly." Duke Ferdinand immediately said and ordered the attendants to come forward and accept the long wooden box. Upon opening the lid, a sword with a hilt embedded with sky-blue gemstones, beautifully crafted yet practical, appeared before him.

"Did His Majesty say anything else?" The old duke raised his head and looked at the messenger, asking in a rapid pace.

"Only a very simple sentence," the messenger looked at the old man solemnly, "He said: ’May each find peace.’"

"May each find peace..." Duke Ferdinand involuntarily whispered these words, nodding slowly after a long pause. "I understand. Please allow me to express my gratitude to His Majesty once again."

The messenger, tasked with a mission, did not linger at Long Branch Manor for long. He soon left with his attendants, leaving only Andresha and Ferdinand in the main hall of the manor house once more.

The two symbolic longswords had been put away by attendants and sent to a nearby display room.

Unable to hold back any longer, Andresha broke the silence, "Grandfather, His Majesty..."

"Do not speculate on His Majesty’s intentions, especially when he has already given you room to maneuver," Duke Ferdinand shook his head, interrupting what Andresha was about to say, "Child, remember, your father is no longer alive; from today on, he died twenty years ago."

Andresha looked at her grandfather, then slowly nodded, "Yes, I understand."

"... Have someone fetch a bottle of wine from the cellar," Duke Ferdinand said softly after a moment of silence, "Let’s have a drink... there are too many things to celebrate today."

...

The long-lost sunshine illuminated Aldernon, and after the mist dissipated, the city finally embraced clear blue skies. On this early summer day, the entire city would welcome a few rare sunny days in the year—the musty smell accumulated over the long foggy season would quickly dissipate like snow in the sunshine during these warm days.

In the upper-level study of Obsidian Palace, Royal Head Maid Diana pushed open the door and approached Emperor Rosetta Augustus.

Emperor Rosetta lifted his head from his scrolls and looked at Diana, "It seems the gift has been delivered?"

"Yes, the messenger has just sent a transmission," the black-haired Diana nodded lightly, "Duke Ferdinand and General Andresha have accepted the gift, and the whole process went smoothly."

"Is that so... Then they must have understood my intentions."

Upon saying this, the Empire’s ruler couldn’t help but reveal a somewhat strange smile, his expression complex as he shook his head, "But then again, I really couldn’t imagine that Bard is actually still alive... although Ferdinand mentioned his dreams and premonitions, who would have thought that these perceptions from a Transcendent would be confirmed in such a manner..."

The Typhon commander captured with Andresha was not alone, and among them, several severely injured individuals were transferred to the Sorin Region for convalescence. Although the information they encountered was very limited, the name Bard Wendell still reached their ears and was conveyed to Emperor Rosetta Augustus’s desk after they returned home.

This was a very simple and direct intelligence transmission line, so simple that one could easily tell at a glance that it had not undergone any secrecy or disguise.

Lost in thought, Emperor Rosetta Augustus couldn’t help but mutter softly to himself, "From a certain perspective, this information was actually voluntarily conveyed to us by Gawain Cecil..."