Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 946 - 945: Reality or Illusion

Gawain stood in the depths of the vortex, and this cold, lifeless, eerie world remained frozen by his side, as if it had been unchanged for millions of years.

A human being, as insignificant as dust on this battlefield.

He looked up and saw the dragons flying in the sky circling the metal tower, forming ring after ring. The flames, frost, and lightning released by the dragons were all solidified in the air, and against the backdrop of a sphere like shattered glass, everything appeared distorted and unreal, like ink splattered wantonly.

Were those dragons still alive? Had they perished in real history, or were they truly frozen in this space-time, or perhaps they still lived in the outside world, surviving somewhere with memories of this battlefield?

Gawain suddenly found himself filled with countless emotions and conjectures, but his unease about the current situation left him no time to ponder such distant matters. He forcibly controlled his mind, first remaining calm, and then sought out anything on this eerie ”battlefield wreckage” that might help escape the current predicament.

This frozen space-time was evidently abnormal; a naturally occurring independent space was impossible at the core of the Eternal Storm. Given its existence, it suggested some force maintained this place. Though Gawain couldn’t fathom the principles behind it, he felt if he could find the ”maintaining point” within this space, perhaps he could enact some changes to the status quo.

There was no other plan to consider, anyway.

With a sliver of hope, Gawain revitalized his spirit and continued searching for a route drawing him closer to the vortex center and the metal tower.

The surrounding ruins and phantom flames layered upon each other, but there was space to tread, albeit one needed to cautiously choose their path forward. The wave patterns and debris structure of the vortex center were intricately entangled like a three-dimensional labyrinth, and he had to take care not to get thoroughly lost within.

As he continued progressing towards the vortex center, he couldn’t help but glance back at the colossal ”Attackers” surrounding him.

Those giant figures, like small mountains, varied in form and bore fierce symbolic features. Like awe-inspiring sculptures, they encircled the frozen vortex, preserving a moment’s posture. Although they no longer moved, the mere sight of their terrifying and violent forms allowed Gawain to feel a nerve-wracking pressure, an endless malice and a near-mad attacking desire. He didn’t know why these Attackers and the Dragonkin guardians had clashed in such a brutal war, but one thing was certain: it was a relentless, grim battle.

Gawain had a faint suspicion of the Attackers’ identities, for he had some experience in these matters, but without evidence, he chose not to conclude anything.

Should he safely reach Talronde, he hoped to find some answers there.

After a brief rest and contemplation, he retracted his gaze and continued advancing toward the vortex center.

He had spotted a potential route—a steel beam extending from the side armor plates of the metal tower. Originally part of a support structure, it had been completely broken under the Attackers’ heavy damage. The collapsed beam remained attached on one end to a platform on the tower, while the other end had fallen into the sea, seemingly not far from Gawain’s current position.

It’s broad and sturdy enough to serve as a bridge, allowing Gawain to reach the vortex’s core.

After traversing the stationary phantom flames, solidified waves, and fixed debris for a time, Gawain confirmed that his meticulously chosen direction and route were correct—he arrived at the far end of the ”bridge” dipping into the seawater. Observing the broad metal surface that lay ahead, the path to the metal tower was now unobstructed.

Before stepping onto the ”bridge,” Gawain first composed himself and tried to maintain maximum mental focus. He first attempted to connect with his satellite and Firmament Station, confirming that both connections were normal. Despite presently being in an area beyond the satellite and space station’s monitoring ”horizons,” this at least gave him some peace of mind.

Subsequently, he shifted his attention back to his current location, beginning to search for something nearby that might resonate with him—perhaps another relic left by the Voyagers, an ancient facility, or another piece of the Eternal Stone Slate.

He remembered how he had fallen—after suddenly perceiving the Voyager relics’ resonance from the Storm’s Eye, hearing those ”verses,” and then encountering an accident. Now, having fallen into the Storm’s Eye, if his previous sensations were no illusion, he ought to find something within that resonates with him.

That might be the key to altering the present circumstance.

After several minutes of focused concentration, Gawain suddenly opened his eyes.

He indeed felt it, and just as he had expected, the resonance originated ahead, from the direction of the metal tower—precisely at the center of the vortex, the still time-space, and the entire Eternal Storm.

Without hesitation, Gawain stepped onto the ”bridge” connecting the sea and the metal tower, sprinting towards the higher levels of the tower.

On an unobstructed path, running this seemingly long ramp shouldn’t take Gawain much time. Even though his speed slightly slowed due to the distraction of perceiving that faint ”resonance,” he quickly reached the other end of the metal framework—near an external protrusion of the tower, where the expansive metal structure had snapped halfway, and the dislodged framework conveniently bridged onto a platform encircling the tower’s exterior wall. This was the highest point Gawain could reach on foot.

He leapt down from the bridge-like metal framework onto the slightly inclined encircling platform and, while keeping his focus on the ”resonance,” curiously surveyed his surroundings.

This expansive metal construct was the battlefield’s most intriguing component—though it appeared as a tower, Gawain was certain this ”tower” had no connection to the Voyager’s ”towers.” It lacked the Voyager’s crafts’ style and had no familiarity or resonance for Gawain. He speculated that this metal construct might have been built by the circling Dragonkin as guardians above and was of significant importance to them; hence they defended this place so determinedly. But... what exactly was its purpose?

He reached out and touched the steel shell beside him; it felt cold, and he couldn’t determine its material, but it was certain that the technology required to construct this was beyond current human civilization’s reach. He glanced around but couldn’t find an entrance to this enigmatic ”tower,” leaving him unable to explore its interior.

He approached the edge of the surrounding platform below, peering downward—a dizzying perspective, yet familiar and friendly to Gawain, accustomed to viewing things from high altitudes.

First to meet his gaze was the static vortex beneath the giant tower, followed by the fragmented wreckage within the vortex and the raging flames ignited by the conflict between opposing forces. The seawater in the vortex area appeared murky, dimmed by violent turbulence and war-blight, making it difficult for Gawain to discern the submerged parts’ appearance. Still, he vaguely discerned a massive shadow.

The submerged portion seemed larger than the part exposed above the sea, with an even more intricate, lateral unfolding structure.

Perhaps this was not a ”tower”—its tower-like appearance merely the part protruding from the sea. Its true overall form... might never be known to anyone.

Gawain furrowed his brows, withdrawing his gaze, speculating on the dragons’ purpose for constructing this thing. Among his various conjectures, the most likely... was a weapon.

After the possible usage of this weapon appeared in his mind, Gawain couldn’t help but laugh at himself and shook his head, muttering to himself in a low voice: ”Could it be an intercontinental missile launching tower...”

Indeed, considering the sheer size of the dragon race, if they were to build an intercontinental missile, it might truly be this large...

With slightly more frivolous thoughts emerging in his mind, Gawain felt the pressure and tension accumulating in his heart ease further—after all, he was also human; in such a situation, he couldn’t help but feel nervous and pressured—and after his emotions were stabilized, he began to carefully perceive where exactly that ”resonance” from the Voyager’s relics was coming from.

According to his senses, it seemed very close, possibly even within a hundred meters.

Gawain walked around the platform encircling the huge tower, staying alert for any suspicious things in his line of sight, and after rounding a support column that blocked his view, his steps suddenly came to a halt.

A ”suspicious thing” indeed appeared in his field of vision.

A figure was standing at the edge of the platform ahead, motionlessly.

Gawain’s nerves instantly tightened—this was the first time he saw the shadow of a ”person” in this place—but he then relaxed slightly because he found that the figure was also in a stationary state like the other things in this space.

He tightened his grip on the Sword of Pioneers in his hand, maintaining a cautious posture as he slowly approached the figure, which naturally had no reaction. Even when Gawain got within less than three meters of it, the figure still stood quietly at the platform’s edge.

It was a tall and sturdy middle-aged man. Although a layer of dim, bluish tint shrouded him just like everything else here, Gawain could still see he was wearing a lavish and imposing robe with intricate patterns not belonging to human civilization, adorned with metal or gemstones whose meanings were indistinguishable, highlighting the unique status of its owner. The middle-aged man himself had a handsome and perfect face, short hair that was dull yet still hinted at being golden, and a pair of steadfast golden slit pupils that stared unwaveringly into the distance.

Slit pupils?

Gawain immediately noticed this detail and realized that the seemingly human middle-aged man before him should be a dragon in human form.

Because he had seen a similar feature on Melita—although the agent’s eyes looked no different from ordinary human beings when she was in human form, in certain special states (such as when Gawain asked her a question with a lot of information causing her to go mildly out of control), her eyes would also exhibit such slit-like pupils.

Gawain composed himself. Although he was somewhat surprised to see this ”figure,” he could still be certain at this moment... that unique sense of resonance indeed came from this middle-aged man... or some item he was carrying.

After careful observation, Gawain’s gaze fell on an inconspicuous small talisman held in the middle-aged man’s hand.

That thing gave him a very strong sense of ”familiarity,” and despite being in a static state, its surface still shimmered slightly with flowing light, all of which were undoubtedly unique features of Voyager’s relics.

Gawain frowned and, after a bout of thought and deliberation, slowly reached out his hand, intending to touch the talisman.

He wouldn’t rashly take the talisman from the other’s hand, but he would at least attempt to establish contact with it to see if he could glean any information from it to help him judge the situation at hand...

...

The goddess seated on the popes suddenly opened her eyes, and within those luminescent slit pupils, it seemed as though storms and lightning surged.

The high-ranked Dragon Priest standing beside the popes instantly felt an indescribable divine pressure, rendering him unable to maintain his body upright; he immediately prostrated himself, his forehead almost touching the floor: ”My Lord, what has happened?”

Enya’s gaze fell on Heragor, and within a brief two-second observation, his soul nearly reached breaking point, but this deity quickly withdrew her gaze, softly inhaling a breath.

The luminous flux within her eyes calmed forcibly.

Heragor heard the deity’s voice enter his ears: ”Nothing—go prepare a welcoming ritual, our guest is already near.

”Entrust everything to you, I need to leave for a moment.”

After those words fell, the deity’s presence quickly dissipated. Heragor raised his head in confusion, only to see the empty popes and the faint golden halo lingering above it.

...

The chaotic lights and shadows ahead moved and reassembled wildly, and the sudden influx of voices and information into his mind almost made Gawain lose consciousness. However, he soon felt those unwanted ”visitors” in his head being swiftly expelled, and his thoughts and vision gradually became clear.

Within seconds, he regained the ability for normal thought and then instinctively tried to retract his hand—he still remembered he was attempting to touch a talisman and was ”attacked” by a torrent of chaotic light and information the moment he made contact.

But before he could withdraw his hand, Gawain suddenly realized that the surrounding environment seemed to have changed.

He heard the faint sound of waves and wind coming from afar, and in the gradually stabilizing vision before him, dim daylight appeared in the distance.

Amber’s cheerful voice came from beside: ”Wow! We’ve reached the other side of the storm!!”