Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1135: Chapter 1134: Toward a New World

The old man very smoothly filled in his name on the form, in a font that seemed elegantly simple like a work of art to the young registrar. After receiving the returned form, the girl couldn’t help but start doubting her judgment. Could a "not-so-clear-headed old gentleman" really write so well?

Of course, the girl was not a professional physician or Druid, she was well aware of this, and there was nothing she could judge based on handwriting alone. However, this momentary doubt still made her curious enough to glance at the old man a few more times, and she couldn’t help but ask: "May I ask, what is your purpose for going to Talronde? I mean... you don’t look young anymore, and joining a pioneer group is quite risky."

"Going to an unknown land, witnessing some unfamiliar things, doing some thrilling and potentially beneficial things for many people; now all of this can be done just by filling out a form, does it need more reasons?" The old man looked at the young girl with eyes like those of someone observing an ignorant junior, "And moreover, it’s Talronde! Any sane adventurer would seize this opportunity as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance!"

"Well... you do have a point," the registrar seemed taken aback by the old man’s enthusiasm, speaking with a somewhat shaky tone, while becoming more doubtful of her diagnosis of the old man’s "condition"—this really seemed to be a passionate, clear-headed adventurer brimming with longing for Talronde?

She also noticed a detail in his words: the old man referred to himself as an "adventurer" rather than the common term "adventurer" used by others. This subtle difference in word roots may not mean much among rough adventurers, but the old man in front of her could well be a well-educated Mage Transcendent, making the term "adventurer" possibly a proud title.

But was there a famous adventurer named "Modir" in the human world? The young registrar was a bit unsure, as she still lacked understanding of this land—just a few weeks ago, she was hunting seals in distant Talronde.

The old Mage named Modir apparently didn’t realize that the young registrar behind the counter was actually a dragon from Talronde; he seemed caught up in the conversation, gently voicing his thoughts: "Actually, there’s another reason for my journey to Talronde... Miss, it might sound odd, but it’s a feeling, a feeling like... a guidance of destiny, do you understand?"

"The feeling of destiny’s guidance?" the registrar widened her eyes in surprise, but soon smiled knowingly and nodded, "Of course, it doesn’t sound odd at all—you seem like a knowledgeable Mage, and powerful Mages do occasionally perceive destiny and the future. It’s a power that comes with being a Transcendent—but for your destiny’s guidance to point to Talronde, that’s quite intriguing..."

"No, miss, what I mean by ’destiny’s guidance’ isn’t like that, I can feel it myself—it’s not related to the powers of a Transcendent, it comes from deeper within me, pointing to something I’ve forgotten... It’s like I have been to that place before, and left something there, and now I’m going to retrieve it..." Modir mused on, as if he became a truly aged person recalling vague past memories, "I can’t remember a lot of things, a lot, but sometimes..."

He suddenly stopped, as if waking from a trance, an awkward expression appearing on his face. He looked at the young girl opposite the counter, smiled and spread his hands: "Apologies, old people like me tend to muse inexplicably, as you see, I’ve told you so many unnecessary things... don’t mind it."

The registrar looked at the old man, having listened intently to all his words, without showing any impatience on her face—communicating with every human here was a novel experience for her, and the old Mage in front of her felt different from other adventurers coming to register.

She smiled faintly and gently shook her head: "It seems you have an extraordinary life, I sincerely wish you find what you’re looking for in Talronde."

Then she paused, her smile turning professional: "Now there is one last step—after filling out the form, please pay a fee of sixteen Fernell, which includes your registration fee, the production cost of the adventurer’s certificate, and basic guide services upon arrival in Talronde. The round-trip cost to Talronde is covered by the Dragonkin Council, and once there, you will be provided with basic camp facilities and early supplies by the council. How you embark on an epic adventure on that land afterward will depend on your own efforts."

Old Mage Modir laughed, pulling two brand-new bills and a shiny coin from his pocket, handing them across the counter, he asked curiously: "I find myself surprised—my form had so many unfilled spaces, yet it gets approved? Are your adventurer recruitment standards such that only a name is required?"

The girl was taken aback, her expression a bit awkward, bowing her head slightly as she took the money and smirked: "Well... there’s still some review standards, but the conditions are relatively loose, it is still the early stage of exploration after all..."

The young Dragonkin girl felt her face flush slightly; having lived in the Dragon Kingdom her entire life, she obviously didn’t have the thick skin of some of her peers who often roamed the human world, and she was uncomfortable saying: Talronde is desperately in need of people, the more adventurers to help clear hazardous zones the better. In fact, at this stage, even illiterate adventurers who come to register, as long as they’re sane and sound, can pass the ’review’..."

As for whether such a large number of adventurers of varying quality coming to the Talronde Continent would cause chaos... the experienced elderly dragons didn’t seem concerned.

While her thoughts wandered, the girl kept busy, her work undisrupted—she took a thin Mithril alloy plate from a small drawer, skillfully etched "Adventurer" Modir’s name and a number on it using a small machine, while the back was etched with their profession and an arbitrarily filled place of birth. It was an incredibly simple job, but the girl was entirely absorbed in it, every movement meticulous, as if she immensely enjoyed this moment of "having something to do."

Although her work was simply handling some forms and creating some badges.

"By the way," the girl suddenly raised her head, glancing at the form beside her, and then looked at Modir, "You only filled in your profession as Mage/Alchemist, but did not fill in your profession level. What is your Mage level?"

Upon hearing the inquiry, Modir seemed to fall into confusion, casually summoning a magic orb, controlling it to rotate while furrowing his brows: "I don’t remember ever joining any Mage organization, nor anyone evaluating my Mage level, and I’ve forgotten how I learned many spells, I cast them purely on instinct..."

"Then... how should I prepare your identification?" the girl felt troubled, "This section is quite important, it concerns your task assignment, at least a level needs to be filled."

Modir waved his hand to dispel the magic orb, seriously looking across the counter: "Very strong."

Registrar: "??"

"You can just fill in very strong," the old Mage said earnestly, "I believe you aren’t really that concerned about it, are you?"

"Well... alright, ’very strong’ isn’t standardized, but I can note it as pending," the girl reluctantly twitched her lips, quickly completing the subsequent production and registration process, then handed a metal pendant merely an inch long and a palm-sized leather booklet across the counter, "This is your adventurer badge and booklet. The booklet includes your basic information and some guidance for living in Talronde. These two items are your pass there, please keep them safe—if lost, please report it immediately here or to the camp management department in Talronde for a replacement."

"Thank you," the old mage accepted the items exchanged for sixteen Fernell, and casually asked, "When and from where do I set off?"

"Head to the harbor to wait; a fleet transporting goods to Talronde is loading at the dock. One of the ships, a cargo-passenger vessel named ’Iceborne Mary,’ sets sail tomorrow at 10 AM. You’ll be sharing the journey with many fellow adventurers. You can rest at the ’Dragon’s Kiss’ inn near the port, and with your adventurer’s badge and guide, you’ll receive free lodging and meals—all valid until one hour before Iceborne Mary sets sail."

"Precise sense of time, I like that," Modir smiled slightly, gathered all his belongings, and took a step back, "Well then, goodbye, young lady."

"Safe travels—wish you an adventure journey with no regrets."

...

"So next, I only need to immerse my spirit into this oddly shaped hemisphere and resonate with the symbols inside to be able to enter that neural network?"

Amon, eyes tightly locked on the new device placed before him, couldn’t help but speak to Emilmine beside him after observing it for a long time.

The Goddess of Magic, who was debugging the Magic Web Terminal, turned her focus, looked at the God of Nature somewhat helplessly, and sighed: "So, when I was teaching you this back and forth earlier, what were you thinking about? Does such a simple process need repeated confirmation?"

"I just can’t quite understand the principle of this thing... After all, it looks completely different from the ’Immersion Capsule’ we saw in the advertisements before."

"Of course it’s different, don’t you remember what the installers said? They are ’custom-made’—from the overall structure to the connectivity method of the nerve cords. Otherwise, with our body sizes, how large of an ’Immersion Capsule’ would be needed for us to lie inside?"

Amon thought for a moment and replied in a slightly deep voice, "You make a valid point—but I still want to understand how this thing connects with the Magic Web Terminal..."

He continued speaking while keeping his eyes fixed on the hemisphere device before him—it was smaller than the large Magic Web Terminal; the main structure was a magic instrument with a diameter of about two or three meters, and its silver-white shell radiated more than a dozen arc-shaped metal structures from the top central point. These structures were covered in magic symbols and crystals, and there were artificial nerve cords, resembling a spine, extending from the base of the hemisphere to the edge of a circular base, which connected with his Magic Web Terminal. A chain of symbols linked the two devices.

The device was currently in standby mode, its interior quiet except for the slow, breathing-like flow of magic symbols and magical vein flow on the surface.

This device was delivered to the defied Court today, along with another identical device and a large Magic Web Terminal—Gawain Cecil had promised these to the Goddess of Magic.

It is said this device could allow "gods" without mortal neural structures to connect to the neural network, using some kind of direct spiritual pulse connection technology... Amon was puzzled by this strange name; he only knew the technology was created by a mortal named Kamel—which made sense because Kamel also lacked a physical body, interacting only through mental powers and magical devices, somewhat similar to Amon or Emilmine.

"If you intend to understand this gadget’s principle before establishing a connection, then I might as well contact Gawain directly to take the equipment back," Emilmine finally finished her equipment debugging, and seeing Amon still grappling with the hemisphere, couldn’t resist murmuring, "You, a ’natural god’ estranged from the mortal world for three thousand years without originally mastering magic authority—why are you suddenly so keen on researching the principle of ancient magical devices? Is it that boring?"

"I just see you using these things so effortlessly..."

"We are not the same; I’m smarter than you," Emilmine casually waved, starting up the two Magic Web Terminals and two hemisphere connection devices in response, "So finally, will you or will you not connect this thing? If not, I’m going to connect, and when that happens, I won’t have time to take you along."

"Connect, connect, connect!" Amon immediately replied, extending his magical power towards the silver-white hemisphere—extremely cautiously, afraid that his formidable power might inadvertently destroy this delicate and fragile "little thing." Ultimately, the wisdom of mortals withstood the divine mental contact, and the surface of the silver-white hemisphere swiftly began a layer of tangible flowing aura. A hum indicating successful connection emanated from within the sphere.

Amon let his mind sink, opened his spirit, cautiously restraining his intelligence, imagining that he was penetrating a "delicate world" through this little hemisphere. He felt as if he were passing through a narrow tunnel, while senses, not his own but able to connect with him, attempted to approach him.

This was the product of mortals’ wisdom.

He hesitated for a second and chose to unconditionally trust these connections.

The next second, a world never before heard of opened its gates to him.

Amid the unsettled flickers of light and shadow, he heard a delightful voice by his ear:

"User ’Highspeed Stag’ enters neural network pre-connection area."