Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 231 - 230: Aftermath and Turmoil

When the Eternal Sleepers regrouped and restarted their plans following the star realignment, other groups on the fringes of human civilization who were similarly affected by this event also worked to quell the dramatic disorder.

On the frontier reefs of the eastern Endless Sea, several tidal barriers were urgently established, with powerful magic forming a shield at the edges of the reefs, to replace the coastal defenses destroyed by giant waves. Within these barriers, the somewhat recovered Sons of the Storm were busily working day and night. They needed to repair the magic circles on the islands, rebuild destroyed coastal buildings, and rescue food and herbs that hadn’t yet been contaminated or gone rotten. Before the next storm arrived, they had to make sure these critical frontier reefs were operational again, at least to a level that could sustain themselves.

In an underground lair within Anzu territory, the Druids of Oblivion Association finally resealed "the body of the fake god." However, the vast amount of biomass consumed in this process was hard to replenish quickly, and a new flesh proliferation plan had already begun execution. Meanwhile, the Archbishop who suffered heavy losses during the event had returned to the depths of the cavern, entering what could be a year-long dormant state.

In the deep-sea, tens of thousands of sea demons lay neatly on the sea bed, discussing how long the Core Fusion Tower could run while burping contentedly.

However, the Realm of the Mortals on the Loren Continent would remain unaware of these matters as winter settled in, bringing a facade of tranquility over their kingdoms and empires.

Typhon Imperial Capital, Aldernon, Noble Estates.

It had been two months since the last meeting with Count Winterhold, and upon hearing that this Northern Earl was about to leave the Imperial capital, Duke Ferdinand Wendell visited the Earl’s residence located in the empire again.

One was the most powerful duke in the empire, the other a count in the cold northern region of the empire. Their ranks and titles clearly differ, but everyone knows Duke Ferdinand and Count Winterhold are very close friends. These two families have been close allies for many years, with the Wendell clan’s Winterwolf Legion mainly stationed in the empire’s northwestern frontier, adjacent to Earl Winterhold’s hereditary lands. Half of the soldiers in the Winterwolf Legion come from the Winterhold area; the Winterhold family not only provides young warriors to the legion but also supplies it with resources over the long term, while the Wendell clan serves as the protector of the Winterhold family within the empire’s power network. This relationship has remained unchanged for centuries.

And the mutual aid on the northern frontier battlefield twenty years ago established the personal friendship between Duke Ferdinand Wendell and the current Count Palin Winterhold, a friendship that has continued to this day.

Compared to the last meeting, Count Winterhold looked more haggard. This powerful spellcaster probably hadn’t rested well for many nights; his complexion was somber, cheeks hollow, even his eyes, usually brimming with magical brilliance, appeared much dimmer. Duke Ferdinand had to first worry about his old friend’s health: "Are you alright, Palin? You look like you haven’t slept for three days and nights!"

"Including today, it’s indeed the third day," Count Winterhold sat in the broad high-backed chair, frowning, "I really can’t fall asleep... our emperor is becoming more concerning."

"I heard the Emperor rejected your proposal again and ordered Winterhold Area to prepare for next year’s war... He..."

"The Emperor won’t heed any objections, neither yours nor mine," Count Winterhold shook his head, "Now is definitely not a good time to start a full-scale war, my Duke. No one knows the guardian family of Anzu’s eastern frontier better than you and me. They are tough opponents - indeed, the Empire’s army is strong and powerful, with new tactics and better equipment, while Anzu remains outdated in these aspects, but that doesn’t mean we can proceed without a price... At least, now is not the time."

"I agree with you, we never doubted the Empire’s might in defeating its enemies, but the key lies in the cost," Duke Ferdinand furrowed his brow, "However, our Emperor seems to have lost judgment in this regard; He’s... too aggressive."

"Not just aggressive, Duke, not just aggressive," Count Winterhold’s tone became serious, "I suspect... that mad curse has begun to affect the Emperor."

Duke Ferdinand’s eyebrows instantly raised: "What have you observed?"

He knew Count Winterhold was a formidable spellcaster and a learned master in the mysterious realms. He might far surpass him in terms of force, but in magic and curse domains, not many in the empire could surpass Count Winterhold. He noticed magical brilliance spilling from his old friend’s eyes, as the latter’s expression grew solemn: "I haven’t observed anything, but some doubts don’t require magic to detect - The Emperor deliberately avoided being watched by my ’Eye of Magic.’ When we met, four Royal Mages stood by his side, and powerful magical disturbances obscured my vision. It is precisely this point that is most suspicious."

"The Emperor realizes he has issues..." Duke Ferdinand’s breath became somewhat hurried, "But he consciously prevents you from helping him?!"

"That’s the most disturbing part - The Emperor consciously indulges his madness, which is more terrifying than pure madness," Count Winterhold looked at Duke Ferdinand’s eyes, "I’ve lost the Emperor’s trust. He ordered me back to my territory, barring entrance to the Imperial capital unless pardoned. So now there’s nothing I can do; only you can act - you must watch the palace closely and prepare for the day the Emperor completely succumbs to madness. Based on my estimation, the Emperor still retains most of his sanity. He’s just had a shift in personality, so he can still be a competent ruler when governing the country, but this state probably won’t last for many years..."

"I am loyal to His Majesty the Emperor," Duke Ferdinand suddenly said. After speaking this half-sentence, he paused for a few seconds before continuing slowly, "But I am more loyal to this nation founded by our fallen pioneers."

"That’s what you would say," Count Winterhold showed a faint smile, which quickly turned into a peculiar expression, "Speaking of our country’s heroic founders... it seems that our decaying neighbor has indeed resurrected a pioneer hero..."

Duke Ferdinand Wendell’s expression also became peculiar: "Are you referring to... that rumored resurrected Grand Duke Gawain Cecil? Do you believe it’s true?"

"Regardless of whether it’s true or not, it has already become an established fact, and based on the intelligence I have and the results of several divinations, the possibility of it being true is actually greater," Count Winterhold said seriously, "You should have also received the intelligence that the revived ’pioneer hero’ is currently in the Dark Mountain Range area to the south of Anzu. He has established a settlement and is attempting to re-expand human civilization near the Gondor wasteland, and he has also addressed several evil cult issues in the process. These actions are obviously not for indulgence—if all this is just a lie concocted by Anzu, they wouldn’t need to put on such an elaborate show. Resurrecting a founding hero to serve as a totem in the royal capital to enhance the legitimacy of their Bastard Dynasty would be more appropriate."

"I indeed received this intelligence, and the actions of that pioneer hero fully align with historical descriptions... but it is still too unbelievable."

"Whether it is unbelievable or not, we have to consider it a variable," Count Winterhold said earnestly, "Now within Anzu’s territory, evil cult followers are rampant, and their aristocrats are overwhelmed by these internal issues. This is also why His Majesty the Emperor has decided to take this opportunity to launch a war. He has ordered the Winterwolf Legion at the border to start a new wave of infiltration into Anzu, and part of the infiltration route... is very close to the Dark Mountain Range."

The old Duke immediately understood what Count Winterhold was getting at: "Andresha is there."

Andresha Wendell, the heir of the Wendell clan, daughter of Bard Wendell, the youngest Wolf General in history. After her father Bard Wendell went missing on the battlefield, this young and talented girl rapidly rose to prominence. As if to cleanse the family of the disgrace of their defeat at the border and to avenge her father, she went to the battlefield, standing on the frontline where her father once stationed, and that borderline is at the southeastern corner of Anzu—very close to Silas Loland’s Eastern Frontier Guard territory, and also close to the Dark Mountain Range.

If His Majesty the Emperor’s infiltration orders reach the front lines, Andresha will undoubtedly choose the Dark Mountain Range as her infiltration route. For most ordinary people, it is perilous polluted wasteland, but for elite Imperial warriors, it is a path of advance. Moreover, it can effectively bypass the main defenses of Anzu’s Eastern Defense Army. Duke Ferdinand Wendell admits that if he were still commanding the Winterwolf Legion, he would choose this route himself.

"If luck is not on our side, they might directly bump into Duke Gawain Cecil. In such circumstances, we would rather believe all the legends about that Duke, including his resurrection being true," Count Winterhold said sincerely, "Andresha is a brave and formidable warrior. I’ve watched her grow to this day, but facing a legendary hero from seven hundred years ago..."

"She should know her limits. As a commander, she won’t act personally..." The old Duke frowned, though he said so, he thought of his granddaughter’s stubborn nature and her hatred towards Anzu after her father’s disappearance, so he added in the end, "I’ll remind her not to act impulsively. She has powerful elf rangers under her command, and I’ll advise her to dispatch those more suited for the task."

The two talked for a long time about the Empire’s situation, the borderland circumstances, Anzu, and the resurrected pioneer hero. They both knew clearly—this might be their last meeting in Imperial Capital Oldennan.

After this, Count Winterhold would return to his Winterhold, while Duke Ferdinand could not leave Oldennan casually. The two old battlefield friends, no longer young, were deeply aware of the value of time, but time is ultimately limited.

The sun had set.

The lights in the imperial capital slowly flickered on. Watching the city illuminated by these lights, standing in front of a carriage, Duke Ferdinand couldn’t help but recall that legendary age—a time when human civilization plunged into darkness, and the descendants of the Gondor Empire pioneered for survival on the desolate wastelands.

In those days, the nights were dark, but people’s hearts shone bright.

"What do you think that resurrected Duke Cecil would feel seeing this era?" he paused in front of the carriage and glanced at his old friend, "Evil cults rampant, society decayed, the borders desolate, and the once brotherly realms of mortals... preparing for a war."

"...Probably very disappointed in all of us."