Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1222: Chapter 1221: Found

The lazy yet majestic voice echoed throughout the world, and as Modir hid in the shadows, he could sense an unimaginable power and a certain heavy essence emanating from that voice, as if it were steeped in ancient times. Yet the owner of the voice seemed to be far more amiable and peaceful than Modir had imagined. At least... she was willing to have a casual conversation about adventure with a person who might be "another Modir."

This friendly demeanor gradually emboldened Modir. He recalled the words of the Dragon Tribe Leader spoken to him and thought about who this "lady" might be... A deity that lost contact with the real world in the Ancient Era, a Kehr. Was she friendly? Perhaps she might not attack an intruder like him who unwittingly stumbled in, or perhaps she was already aware of his existence. Was the voice talking to her truly another self? Or... was this related to his lost memories?

Various thoughts spun around in the Great Adventurer’s mind. He always had a passion for heading into the unknown, and now the largest-scale "unknown" he had ever encountered stood before him, causing him an irritable itch that made him increasingly restless. Finally, as the voices near the throne resumed, he made up his mind and began cautiously approaching the throne, using the surrounding buildings as cover.

He didn’t forget to cast layers upon layers of protective and aura-concealing spells on himself, didn’t forget to hide in the shadows to evade any prying eyes from the sky, didn’t forget to suppress his presence to become as unobtrusive as dust by the roadside. Yet he also knew that if the entity truly was a deity, all these safeguards would merely be a joke.

"Mr. Great Adventurer, what are you thinking now?" The majestic lazy voice rang out again, followed by another "Modir" answering by the throne: "I’m pondering how long I’ve already stayed with you in this strange place... My perception of time has greatly weakened, but I guess it must have been a long time, certainly not just a year or so short..."

"Ah, thinking about this is actually meaningless. This is the deepest part of the Deep Realm, a folded dreamscape, a kingdom misaligned with reality. Here, ripples from the real world have weakened to the point where they hardly affect us, and the passage of time is similar. Relax your nerves; it’s rare that troublesome intruder is quieter now."

"Thank you for the reminder. After all, I’m just a mortal—I’m even starting to feel like my memories of past adventures are blurring," the other Modir said helplessly. "When it comes to these ’mundane topics,’ I can’t be as carefree as you, a deity. But speaking of that, do you know how long you’ve been asleep here, in relation to the real-world timeline?"

"...Who knows? Probably only those pioneers who have already left this planet could understand such profound issues," the lazy majestic voice said with a faint smile. "No one can know how long they’ve been asleep in a dream—not even a god."

In the shadows between buildings, Modir’s steps grew quicker, with the voices coming from the throne echoing clearly in his ears. Yet compared to those voices, it was his voice that truly resounded within him:

"I’ve gone mad... I must be mad... This isn’t ordinary danger—it’s a deity from the Ancient Era that has survived till now—Modir, it could kill you with just a glance! There’s no need, truly no need, adventure isn’t about blind courting of death. Seeking answers from an ancient god—do I have a death wish... that voice indeed sounds like mine, but that’s no excuse to risk my life. Haven’t I seen enough similar occurrences in those ancient bewildering ruins... Be cautious, more cautious, this is really unbeatable..."

The warnings and denials within his mind surged like tides, eventually transforming into suppressed murmurs that he couldn’t help but utter, yet Modir’s steps never halted. He finally sensed something amiss, as he approached the sharply defined border cut out at the end of the street, this anomaly became increasingly obvious:

He was being irresistibly drawn to a deadly force, a force originating from the voice beside the throne that looked almost identical to his own, generating an impulse that he couldn’t control, driving him to the place where that voice resided, like an out-of-control zealot driven by some dangerous fate.

He realized the danger; experience—although he couldn’t recall when exactly this experience was, reminded him that this impulse, emerging uncontrollably from within, was absolutely bizarre and deadly, often resulting from mental contamination or seduction by evil spirit!

However, the Legendary Mage’s prideful mental fortitude failed for the first time, his mind was clear, yet he couldn’t control his increasingly quickening steps, and ultimately he was no longer hiding in the shadows, instead, he sprinted down the street towards the throne.

In just a brief moment, Modir reached the end of the street, the boundary like an invisible blade’s cut laid before him, and beyond it stretched a desolate faded desert and the towering seat, as massive as a mountain, filled his view. He seemed to sense the air of "that place," and... He found himself stepping forward without hesitation, about to step onto...

A roaring suddenly erupted in his mind, Modir felt the world swirling, and just before spiraling into irreversible calamity, a tremendous force seemed to arise from nowhere, forcefully "pulling" him out of the deadly vortex. Instantly, he perceived the presence of that force, felt someone grasping his arm, fully waking him from slumber.

The old mage abruptly opened his eyes, finally seeing the familiar and colorful world, also feeling the gentle shaking sensation in his arm.

He raised his head in slight confusion, a touch of white entered his gaze; a lady with long silver-white hair, wearing a white velvet dress and snow fox shawl, with a cold yet elegant demeanor, stood beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder—he was confident he didn’t know this lady, yet her gaze clearly didn’t belong to a mere passerby.

Who was this? When did such a refined lady appear in the Adventurer Camp? She certainly didn’t look like a crass adventurer.

Modir furrowed his brow, the magic microglow-filled eyes of the lady, much like frozen crystals, drew his gaze for a second look. For some reason, he felt a strange sense of familiarity and warmth emanating from them, meanwhile, he also noticed other figures near the lady: the Black Dragon Girl serving as Heragor’s messenger and an unfamiliar young woman with long black hair.

He seemed to understand immediately.

As she examined him, Victoria Wilder’s gaze also fell on the seemingly ordinary and elderly man before her; in fact, she had been standing there for several minutes. The Dragon Tribe girl named Koleta had led her here, and the old mage was entranced in dreams. Whether he was her ancestor or not, out of respect for elders, she hadn’t interrupted him.

Until the aura of the old mage suddenly began to fluctuate violently, an obscure and incomprehensible power seemed to be losing control within him, nightmares seemed to be eroding his spiritual world. It was only then that Victoria couldn’t help but step forward, trying to awaken the old mage — though not fully aware of what was happening, her ’awakening’ was merely gently shaking the old mage’s arm while trying to use magic power to calm his mental disturbance. Unexpectedly, this simple method proved astonishingly effective; the old man woke up almost immediately, and the various abnormalities on him quickly subsided.

"We’ve met again, Mr. Modir," just as Modir and Victoria were staring at each other, not knowing how to start the conversation, the girl named Koleta, the Black Dragon Girl, finally stepped forward and broke the awkward silence, "I have brought you a guest — though it’s rather sudden, you have likely already guessed the identity of the guest."

"Wait... this really is..." Modir had already guessed as much just now, but having his suspicions confirmed at this moment, he couldn’t help but widen his eyes, his gaze swept over Victoria several times, "This really is...?"

"You are Mr. Modir, the Great Adventurer who once traveled to all the known borders of the civilized world?" Victoria finally responded, she took a half step back, seemingly trying to muster an appropriate expression to face the elder before her, but this was never her area of expertise. In the end, she maintained an almost stiff expression, delivering these awkward opening lines as if reciting a script — after speaking, her expression didn’t change much. Yet Maji, who stood beside her, immediately knew that her friend had fallen into great embarrassment and frustration, with her eyes unusually shaking.

She had messed up — the wise, brave, rational, and elegant Northern Duchess rarely messed up, and she had messed up her first meeting with her ancestor. It was the first time in years Maji had seen Victoria so flustered.

Maji could finally imagine the reaction of Aunt Heidi and Rebecca after seeing the awoken Gawain Cecil in the family crypt years ago.

"Uh... I don’t know the meaning behind those floating titles or honors that you mentioned, but I am indeed called Modir," the Great Adventurer said somewhat awkwardly, a strong sense of unreality enveloped him, making him even feel as if that dangerous and bizarre dream he just had extended into the real world, "What’s your name?"

"... Victoria. You can call me Victoria, or just Vicki is fine, that’s my..." Victoria blurted out but suddenly stopped midway, realizing she shouldn’t lose her composure when first meeting her ancestor.

Modir obviously didn’t think too much, he just spoke whatever came to mind, "Ah, Victoria, right, Lady Victoria... Miss... Ah no, I guess I don’t need to address you like that — so I’ll just call you Victoria. You should know the Dragon Tribe arranged this meeting... with certain intentions, so you really are my... descendant?"

The old mage’s thoughts finally seemed to stabilize, and his gaze towards Victoria also became serious. At almost the same time, Victoria took a deep breath — this Duchess forcibly calmed herself down, then made a quick gesture with her hand, applying over a dozen layers of ’Mechanical Mind’ and ’Cold Calculus’ effects on herself. Her previously shaky emotions instantly stabilized as if frozen solid.

The corner of Modir’s eye twitched immediately — although everything still felt unreal, the style of applying over a dozen layers of magic effects was strangely familiar...

"Mr. Modir," Victoria’s mind had thoroughly calmed down, her eyes were like the icy northern mountain range, her words were calm and methodical, "Now there are many clues indicating this relationship between us, but whether this blood connection really exists, we need proof — forgive my rudeness, but I need your blood."

As she spoke, she quickly sketched a few light blue magic symbols in mid-air, and simultaneously took out a small Mithril Device from her possession. The device was engraved with complex symbols and grooves, and as soon as it was taken out, the floating symbols in the air shot towards it, precisely filling in several missing key nodes on the device’s surface — the complex array on the Mithril Device gradually brightened, and Modir instantly understood what this ’Victoria’ intended to do.

"Alright." The old mage immediately nodded and casually took out an enchanted dagger from his waist for protection, the sharp blade tip drawing a cut on a finger, and a few droplets of blood floated in the air, accurately falling into the grooves on the Mithril Device’s surface. At the same time, Victoria conjured a sharp ice cone, piercing her fingertip, and the droplets of her blood also floated towards the increasingly bright magic symbol array.

The blood seeped into the grooves plated with magic-conducting material, and the genetic factors carried within the cells were instantly deconstructed and reorganized, forming a stable information characteristic circuit within the precisely vibrating magical field — this ancient technology, one of the few from the Gondor era that still functions today, took effect. Victoria flipped the Mithril Device over, and on its smooth mirror-like other side, several bright symbols glowed brilliantly.

At this moment, even with a dozen layers of Mechanical Mind and Cold Calculus, she barely maintained control over her emotional shifts.

"Uh... my dear, have you reached a conclusion?" Modir also appeared somewhat tense, though he himself didn’t even know what he was nervous about. He stretched his neck, intently watching Victoria’s unchanged expression, "Do try to relax a bit too, after all, this is all quite sudden, I’m not even mentally prepared — if it turns out we’re not related, that’s alright too, kinship doesn’t have to be established..."

Victoria suddenly raised her head, the seriousness in her expression made Modir swallow back the words he hadn’t finished.

"Ancestor..." In the next second, under Modir’s astonished gaze, the current Northern Duchess deeply bowed, speaking in a solemn tone she’d never used before, "We have finally found you."

"Finally? Found?" Modir seemed a bit confused, "You all have been looking for me?"

"Yes," Victoria slowly raised her head, her tone quite complex as she softly spoke, "We’ve really been searching... for many, many years."