Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 940 - 939: Journey to Talronde

After Heidi and Baldwin left, only Gawain and Duchess Victoria remained in the study—Amber was actually there from the start, but vanished the moment Gawain declared the discussion over. By now, she had likely darted to the nearest tavern, clutching a beer, unless a mousetrap caught her on the way.

Victoria returned to Gawain’s desk, her eyes seemingly curious, ”Is there anything else you would like to instruct?”

”Did you forget what I mentioned to you before?” Gawain smiled, stood up, and opened a small cabinet beside the desk, taking out a sturdy and exquisite wooden box. He handed it to Victoria while unclasping the lid, ”Returned to its rightful owner.”

Victoria immediately guessed the content of the box and gently inhaled, solemnly lifting the lid. A thick book with a mottled, aged cover and slightly yellowed and curled pages lay quietly on the velvet lining.

The ink on the book had long since dried, yet the moment the lid was opened, Victoria still felt as if she vaguely smelled the scent of ink—perhaps it was her imagination, or possibly the residue of solutions used by book restorers. Her otherwise expressionless, ice-like face appeared to ripple slightly, and a complex mix of appreciation and joy seeped through her crystal-like eyes.

”This is... the long-lost travelogue of our family...” she mumbled softly as if speaking to herself.

”This is Modir’s Travelogue restored,” Gawain nodded, ”Initially, it was a jumbled mess by a clumsy compiler, mingled with other fragmented books, but now it’s restored to just those precious notes left by Modir Vealt.”

He paused before adding, ”However, the travelogue still has missing parts—it’s six hundred years old, after all, and seems to have changed hands several times. I suspect at least a quarter is lost and unlikely to be recovered, which I hope you understand.”

”This is already very rare, Your Majesty,” Victoria immediately said, a rare excitement in her eyes, ”This book has been lost for so long, I never imagined it would be found in my generation—it holds immense significance for our family, Your Majesty, and the Wilder Clan will forever remember your kindness!”

”Then I shall graciously accept your thanks,” Gawain chuckled, then turned the conversation, ”However, as I return this book to you, I also have some words—about this travelogue.”

”About this travelogue?” Victoria was a bit curious, but upon noticing the seriousness in his eyes, she immediately became more attentive, ”Of course, please go ahead.”

”Part of this book’s content must remain confidential,” Gawain said, pointing to the travelogue in Victoria’s hands, ”You’ll find a bookmark inside—open it to the corresponding spot, and the subsequent twenty-seven pages are the sections that must stay undisclosed. They recount a special adventure of Modir Vealt—an adventure near the Dragon Kingdom.”

”Dragon Kingdom?!” Even Victoria, known for her calm, couldn’t help but exclaim slightly, ”Are you speaking of Talronde?!”

”Yes, Talronde, the very place I plan to visit this time,” Gawain nodded, ”Of course, my journey to Talronde has no connection to Modir Vealt’s adventure from six hundred years ago.”

Victoria nodded, then couldn’t help but ask, ”Why must this part of the adventure record remain hidden?”

”During his adventure, Modir discovered certain secrets in the northern seas, secrets that are forbidden. Not just risky for dragons, but significantly dangerous for humans as well. I’ve discussed this with the dragon representatives,” Gawain explained patiently, ”After reading it yourself, you should be able to perceive its nature. In summary, I’ve come to an agreement with the dragons to ensure the Chapters in the travelogue are not publicly disseminated. Of course, you, as a descendant of Modir Vealt, have the right to know and inherit the knowledge he left behind.”

”To inherit, but not to spread, is that right?” Victoria was sharp, realizing from Gawain’s solemn demeanor that what her ancestor left behind was perhaps more than an eerie adventure record. If both the dragonkin and this legendary hero deemed it ”dangerous and forbidden,” it warranted caution from everyone. Thus, she felt no discomfort with Gawain and the dragons preemptively making such an agreement regarding Modir’s Travelogue, and she very earnestly nodded, ”Rest assured, I will remember your warning.”

”Good,” Gawain nodded slightly, ”Although my trip to Talronde is simply because of an invitation from the Dragon God, if given the chance, I will also try to investigate what Modir encountered back then. Should my inquiry yield any results, I’ll inform you afterward.”

”Thank you very much,” Victoria bowed her head deeply, expressing sincere gratitude, ”But do ensure your own safety—if it is indeed a profoundly hazardous secret to humanity, we may be better off not seeking it.”

Gawain acknowledged with a nod, indicating he would judge for himself. He refrained from providing a detailed explanation about the Voyager, the Northern Giant Tower, and the ancient Inversion Tide, as he wasn’t entirely sure himself, and presenting unverified information could only lead to more confusion. As for himself... his journey to Talronde was precisely to resolve these confusions.

...

In the newly expanded cathedral of Cecil Castle (New Holy Light Church Headquarters), the austere main hall had yet to open.

Several large columns supported the circular main prayer hall, whose high dome was inlaid with the emblem of the Holy Light formed by magic crystal lamps. Among the rows of orderly, clean pews, a faint yet warm Holy Light flowed gently, while a small figure, resembling a glowing sculpture, flitted swiftly among the pews and columns, appearing delighted.

Veronica Moen stood at the pulpit at the hall’s front, holding a platinum scepter, her eyes gently closed and her head bowed, seemingly in silent prayer.

Wright, towering in stature, stood on the pulpit in front of her. Garbed in a simple daily white robe, he exuded calmness and gentleness, while a faint light hovered slowly beside him. Behind him, where an idol should have stood in the old church era, was instead a crystal image wall resembling a lens. Sunlight refracted through a series of intricate crystals outside the church, filling the crystal image wall and casting a faint glow that illuminated the entire pulpit.

The New Holy Light Church no longer required a specific God as an idol, and the sunlight led through the lens into the church represented the New Church’s ideology—the sun being one of the fairest entities in this world. Regardless of aristocrat or commoner, male or female, young or old, anyone living upon this land could receive the sun’s blessing, and no one had the right to deprive them of this, just as no one could take away the Holy Light within everyone’s heart.

”It’s rare to see you praying here,” Wright lowered his head to look at the ”Saint Princess” before him, ”and you specifically called me over.”

To outsiders, Veronica was genuinely viewed as a ”devout and holy person.” From the old church era to the new church era, this Saint Princess projected an image of devout faith and embrace of the Holy Light. She was constantly in prayer, always surrounded by a halo, as if faith was ingrained in her life. However, those aware of the truth knew it was all a persona crafted by this ancient Defier for herself.

In truth, she was among the least faith-driven individuals. She never followed the Holy Light God and didn’t particularly embrace the Holy Light at all—in fact, the light surrounding her was a technological means from the Gondor era, and the piety she portrayed was to avoid the backlash of the mental Steel Stamp and the Holy Light God—technically, it was also a means of technology.

So in situations without outsiders and where it wasn’t necessary, Veronica wouldn’t even engage in prayer—this was a fact known only to a select few like Wright and Gawain.

”I will soon follow the King to Talronde,” Veronica finished her prayer, lifting her gaze to the Great Shepherd before her, ”It’s far from here.”

”You’re not one to seek guidance and comfort for such matters,” Wright slowly said, ”Do you need any help from me?”

Veronica quietly observed Wright for a few seconds, then gently nodded, handing over her ever-present platinum scepter: ”I need you to safeguard it for me until I return with the King.”

”...This scepter?” Wright was visibly surprised, raising an eyebrow involuntarily. ”I thought you’d take it with you to Talronde—this thing is something you never part with.”

”...Talronde is too far,” Veronica said. ”When far from the Loren Continent, my control over the platinum scepter will weaken. Although theoretically, the Holy Light will not actively focus here, we must be prepared for contingencies. After this period of our doctrinal reforms and the restructuring of various parishes, there have been preliminary successes in faith distribution. The ’bridge role’ between God and man is not as dangerous as before, but for ordinary people, this scepter is still uncontrollable. Only you... can entirely resist the influence of the mental Steel Stamp, safely holding it for an extended period.”

Control over the platinum scepter weakens when far from the Loren Continent?

Wright keenly noticed the critical point in her words but glanced at Veronica, ultimately choosing not to press further—this ancient Defier harbored many secrets, yet unless she was willing to disclose them, no one could make her speak. After all, even the King and this Defier merely maintained a cooperative relationship, and others were in no position to question this ”Princess Veronica.”

The Great Shepherd shook his head and reached out to take the scepter.

It was merely a slightly warm, heavy staff. Aside from the abundant Holy Light it contained, Wright felt nothing else from it.

”Is there anything I should be mindful of?” he asked.

Veronica nodded: ”You don’t have to hold it all the time, but you must ensure it’s always within a hundred meters of you, and while you’re not holding the scepter, no one else should touch it—otherwise, the ’bridge’ will immediately target the new contact, drawing the attention of the Holy Light to the mortal realm. Also, there’s a crucial point...”

Wright’s expression was serious, listening intently.

”When leading young priests into the mountains for exercise, try not to use it as a weapon—it’s better to have a regular warhammer,” Veronica said lightly. ”After all, it’s an ancient artifact.”

Wright: ”...To be honest, this thing isn’t great as a weapon—it’s a bit light.”

Clearly, both were earnestly discussing the matter.

Then Wright looked up at the sunlight streaming through crystals into the church, telling Veronica, ”It’s getting late. The church is only resting for half a day today; I need to prepare for the afternoon’s sermon. Will you be praying here for a while? It’ll be about half an hour before it reopens.”

Veronica slightly bowed her head: ”You go ahead, Great Shepherd, I need to contemplate some things here.”

Wright nodded, turned, and headed towards the exit of the prayer hall, while waving to those seated on the benches opposite the pulpit: ”Let’s go, Emily!”

A humanoid glow peeked out from between the benches, happily responded, and slipped into the gently fluctuating Holy Light behind Wright, leaving the prayer hall with the Great Shepherd.

In the vast hall, only Veronica remained quietly standing before the pulpit.

This ”Holy Light Princess” stood with eyes slightly closed and head bowed, like a devout believer before the wooden pulpit. No one knew what she was thinking until after a long silence, she slowly raised her head.

The Holy Light in her eyes, eternally unsettled, seemed dimmer than usual.

The next moment, the prayer hall echoed with her murmured, self-talk-like whispers:

”Execute Class II security split process.

”Memory and personality library initiating remote synchronization...

”Preparing to enter offline state...

”We wish ourselves luck, anticipating the observational data brought back from Talronde.

”Personality data is backed up, Ophelia - roaming unit entering offline mode.”

...

On the third day after the ”god burial” of the Goddess of Magic, all affairs were arranged.

In the courtyard square on the west side of the Cecil Palace, Melita Ponia appeared in front of Gawain as promised.

Since this was not an official diplomatic event, with no external publicity, few came to see them off. Aside from the three Grand Governors and the necessary on-site guards, only a handful of high-ranking officials from the Administrative Office were present.

”I thought there would be more people,” Melita said with a slight smile, looking at Gawain. ”This doesn’t look like the ceremony for sending off an emperor.”

”Ceremonies are for outsiders to see—this time, there’s no need to make a big show externally,” Gawain said casually and glanced at the solitary Melita. ”Now I’m curious about how we’ll travel to Talronde... are you taking us?”

”As the high-ranking agent dedicated to liaising with you, I am, of course, responsible,” Melita smiled slightly. ”As for how we’re going... naturally, we’ll fly.”