Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1196: Chapter 1195: The Nameless One

Heragor, the ruler of the Talronde Continent—it’s said that there are three dragon leaders, each in charge of knowledge, technology, and authority. Among them, the dragon that rules knowledge is the wise Andar, the dragon ruling technology is not currently in Talronde, and the dragon ruling authority is the awe-inspiring Heragor, once serving the Dragon God, and also the vanguard among the Ancient Titans who boldly rose in rebellion.

Even though today’s Talronde is in decline, and the dragons even require the alliance’s aid to survive this winter, the powerful and awe-inspiring Ancient Dragon remains one of the pinnacle individuals in all the mortal realms. Therefore, when Modir heard Heragor’s introduction, even he couldn’t help but freeze for a moment, taking a few seconds before opening his mouth to speak: "Ah-oh—this is truly unexpected."

Then he shook his head: "I was told a camp commander wanted to meet me; I didn’t expect it to be a personage like you..."

"Please forgive me, as I wish to be less conspicuous—the adventurers have only just adapted to life in Talronde, and as you know, they are very skilled at... crafting infinite, exciting stories based on limited facts," Heragor said with some helplessness, shaking his head. He then gestured to a chair opposite him, "Please, have a seat, Mr. Modir, you can relax a bit."

Modir glanced suspiciously at the Dragonkin leader in front of him, then looked at the chair before sitting down slowly, and slightly knitted his brow: "Now can it be said? How does a leader like you have time personally to seek out an average adventurer like me? Don’t tell me you also believe in that ’beating the Prince of Fire Elementals into the magma river with bare fists’ story..."

"An average adventurer?" Heragor raised an eyebrow as Modir sat down and said, "Is this how you view yourself? Are you truly just an ’average adventurer’?"

"What else, then?" Modir pointed to himself, "I think using the word ’adventurer’ to describe myself is already quite fitting; I am still different from ordinary adventurers."

Heragor said nothing for a moment, only quietly observing the old mage before him, as if trying to determine some essence of this ’human’ through some means. His gaze carried a power to penetrate the truth, and even though he no longer had the blessings of gods, as a former ’Demigod,’ he could see many things invisible to ordinary people. After observing silently for a few seconds, he finally withdrew his gaze and gently furrowed his brow.

"I’ve heard you’ve lost some memories, Mr. Modir," the former Dragon Priest considered his words, "You are not aware of your origins, nor how many years you’ve been adventuring outside, or even your early travels, is that so?"

"Strictly speaking, it’s not just a simple memory loss," Modir thought for a moment and, not feeling a ruler like Heragor would have any desire to harm him, and having never hidden such things from others, answered frankly, "My memory sometimes appears very chaotic, with interruptions, repetitions, and flashbacks; sometimes things I think shouldn’t be related to me at all emerge from my mind—I indeed do not remember where I started my adventures from, nor do I remember my parents, family, relatives, clan, homeland... I remember nothing.

"Occasionally, I’d recall fragments of travels in certain places, can clearly remember those intersections, those houses, even the names of some familiar locals, but when I try my best to find the locations in my memories, I find everything is different from what I remember, as if those memories were processed by dreams; sometimes I even suddenly wake up in unfamiliar places, completely unaware of how I got there, with people around recounting things I seemingly did recently, sounding like they describe a stranger.

"I think there might be some sort of curse on me, you know, a psychological or soul-level curse—likely linked to some adventure of mine. Perhaps I triggered some ancient relic I shouldn’t have? Angered some ghosts wandering in tombs? I’ve tried to solve this problem, tried to revisit those ancient relics I’ve adventured before to lift the ’curse’ upon me, but it’s not that easy. How can I figure out the curse’s origin when I don’t even know where I’ve been?"

Modir spread his hands, indicating his conclusion, while Heragor nodded thoughtfully and casually remarked, "This sounds very troubling, Mr. Modir. Your experiences are sympathetic."

"I don’t necessarily need sympathy—though many react that way after hearing my story," Modir was quite candid, "I too was once anxious and angry, but after who knows how many years, I’ve come to terms with it. Compared to the forgotten past, this world still holds many unknown, novel fields awaiting exploration, and the various changes in this era are exciting enough. I’m grateful that even though I might lose memories, I still retain my powers and much knowledge, which allows me to live well in tough environments. Nothing could be more satisfying to an adventurer..."

This was optimism to an almost unreasonable degree, an "carefree" attitude ordinary people could not comprehend. Heragor did not know if these were the old mage’s true feelings or a ’revelation’ after years of disillusionment and despair. His tightly furrowed brows contemplated something, and this deliberating hesitation did not escape Modir’s notice. The old mage cast a glance at the Dragonkin leader before him: "Honorable Heragor—I can see you’re interested in me for reasons beyond a forgetful adventurer causing some ’commotion’ among adventurers. Please, speak honestly: what do you want with me?"

"Initially upon learning a legendary powerhouse inexplicably mixed into the adventurer camp, we were simply surprised and curious. Talronde’s reconstruction effort is weighty, and it wasn’t worth my investing too much energy. But soon, I heard your name... your formidable strength, your identity as an adventurer, the name Modir—these elements combined remind me of something that happened shortly before the ’Great Battle.’" Heragor finally sighed gently and waved his hand, summoning some pages from a nearby shelf to land upon the table between them.

"A Dragonkin on a mission on the Loren Continent once brought back some intelligence, mentioning a name and an incredible travelogue—oh, this isn’t the original. The original isn’t in Talronde, this is a small part transcribed from memory based on the original report. The content should be exactly the same as the original. Take a look, and see if it reminds you of anything."

Modir watched the pages land before him, the old mage’s eyes seemingly shaking uncontrollably, while a certain transcendent intuition surged within him, causing his heart to pound—something he’d pursued for so many years seemed to be truly appearing, revealing itself on this land whose mysterious veil had just been lifted. Though countless times he’d thought he was prepared, when it truly seemed to emerge, his first reaction was to reject contact and understanding.

Yet the sudden rise of repulsion was easily suppressed. Waving his hand, he summoned the pages into the air before him, and his gaze slowly passed over them.

"...X month XX day, greeted friends, and prepared to set out again. Matters at home have been arranged. From ’smooth return in a short time’ to ’dying outside’ — all preparations are adequately done. I’ve also informed those in St. Soniel...

"My children seem quite vocal about my new adventure plans...

"...The previous experiences in the shadow realm shouldn’t be repeated. This time, I should make proper preparations, like finding a reliable team member. I should clearly recognize that I’m a fragile mage; charging into battles is unsuitable for me..."

Line by line passed through his field of vision, stirring Modir’s shattered, chaotic, and disorderly world of memories with flashing familiarity and alienation, altering his expression several times and taking a considerable time to read what little content there was on the pages. Afterward, he froze for over a dozen seconds before hesitantly breaking the silence: "This recorded here... is someone’s adventure, right?"

"You genuinely have no memory of them?" Heragor leaned slightly forward, asking seriously, "Nothing comes to mind after reading?"

"Alright, it seems just as I guessed... Are these records left by me? Is this the travel journal I wrote?" Modir read the answer from Heragor’s attitude, but his expression only became more confused. "But I really have no impression at all, not a single memory... Family, friends, companions... Did I even have children? Did I truly have those?"

The old mage murmured to himself, his gaze suddenly fluctuating between clarity and confusion. However, before he completely fell into chaos, Heragor’s voice suddenly came from the side, the magical power embedded in the dragon’s language quickly sobered him up: "Mr. Modir, please stay focused, we are only discussing a travel journal, your mind should be anchored firmly here."

"Oh, oh, stay focused, stay focused," Modir snapped awake, his eyes sweeping strangely over the pages once again resting on the table. "I truly don’t remember them, Chief, do you know the full name of the person who left this travel journal?"

"Modir Vealt," Heragor nodded and said, "Upon hearing the surname, do you still not recall anything?"

"Vealt... Vealt?" Modir furrowed his brow, repeating the unique surname in a low voice, "I don’t remember having this surname, but it feels somewhat familiar. The surname Vealt... wait! I know this! I’ve heard of it! The ruling family of Northern Anzu, Duke Vealt—ah?"

The old mage’s expression froze suddenly. He finally remembered where he had heard this familiar surname, yet when this surname was linked to himself, immense confusion surged from his heart, completely overwhelming his mind. He pointed at himself, his face full of disbelief, clearly unable to accept his own conjecture.

What he did not expect was that the name Modir Vealt had vanished from the world for six hundred years.

Heragor cleared his throat gently, choosing his words carefully: "Mr. Modir, this is just a clue, perhaps we should..."

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

The Modir in front of him was utterly unresponsive, just staring blankly while maintaining the gesture of pointing at himself.

Heragor squinted at the old mage, then immediately reacted, sketching pale golden magic symbols in the air, intending to implement some protective soul retrieval, resetting thought emergency measures. However, before he could act, Modir abruptly regained clarity, the old mage blinked as if the previous anomaly was merely an illusion. He glanced around, then looked at Heragor, confused for two seconds before uncertainly saying: "Where did we leave off, Chief? Was there something you wanted to show me?"

"...No, we’ve already seen it, but there was no result, forget it," Heragor’s expression remained unchanged, he simply waved his hand, and the few pages on the table instantly turned to dust, dispersing into the air. "Thank you very much for agreeing to talk to me about some things, let’s leave it at that for today, you need to rest."

"Ah? Is it over already?" Modir scratched his head instinctively, utterly baffled, "I feel like we just started talking, and we were about to get to the truly important part..."

The old mage mumbled, but abruptly stopped soon after, as though realizing something. He looked at Heragor with a peculiar expression: "Was my state off just now?"

"...A bit unsettling," Heragor nodded, in front of a legendary mage like Modir, insights into many transcendent domains came intuitively. "For the sake of your health, I don’t think we should continue the conversation."

"...I understand," Modir breathed out lightly, his expression a complex smile. He then slowly stood up, preparing to turn and leave. "Then it seems I can only go ’rest’ now."

Heragor nodded, watching as Modir got up, but as the old mage was about to head towards the door, he broke the silence: "Mr. Modir."

Modir stopped, turned his head: "Is there anything else?"

"You’re hoping to find something ’important’ you’ve lost on this land, aren’t you?"

"Of course," Modir nodded, "I tell this to everyone, that’s my purpose."

"...Then I will help as much as I can," after a moment of contemplation, Heragor slowly said, "You can stay on this land for a few more days and patiently wait for a turn of events."

Modir looked at the Dragon Tribe Leader with a bit of surprise and asked curiously: "Why? Is the Dragonkin such a generous and hospitable race?"

Heragor laughed: "The Dragonkin are indeed generous and hospitable, but more importantly, I have a hunch that the matter you seek... might also be related to some of our own concerns."