Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1026: Chapter 1025: Coming of Age Ceremony

In this fleeting moment, the Talronde Continent, illuminated by countless artificial lights and decorative facades, fell into about two seconds of silence and darkness—all transportation halted, all lights extinguished, all projection walls faded back to their original dull form, the Great Shield vanished in a flicker, and the icy cold winds of the Arctic Ocean rushed into this closed kingdom like an era descending upon it. Beyond the horizon, in a ’twilight’ phase of the polar day, the primitive, unfiltered sunset light for the first time in millions of years directly shone upon the land of dragons.

In the next second, in Agondale, in Apasol, in Upper Talronde and Lower Talronde—in every corner of the Dragon Kingdom, the dragons within and outside the cities suddenly stopped unanimously, even those flying in the sky ceased their wing-beating and plummeted straight down. This scene was as if all dragons simultaneously lost their souls. After another second, those incapacitated dragons began to wake up one after another: those falling towards the ground took to the skies again, those crawling on the surface raised their heads, those lost in enhancers and illusion entertainments opened their eyes, countless gazes began to converge on a place—the City of Gods at the center of the Talronde Continent.

Heragol lay prostrate on the ground, hearing a deep rumbling from the depths of the earth, the hurricane triggered by the shutdown of the Weather Controller was howling at high altitudes, a cold, mechanical mind was entering his brain, and Omega’s consciousness began to gradually take over his body according to the program. Yet he still maintained a trace of free thought. Driven by this remaining, self-propelled will, he slowly lifted his head to look at the god standing at the edge of the terrace.

That golden-haired figure withdrew their gaze, the Dragon of Chaos covering the entire sky of Talronde gradually retracted its gaze as well; Heragol could feel countless gazes slowly returning from distant Loren to this continent. All of this might have taken only two or three seconds, but it felt like several centuries had passed to him—finally, the gaze of that god fell upon him.

Immense, terrifying, chaotic, maddening, the despairing pressure came at him; Heragol felt as if his brain was boiling, but this time, he did not bow his head. Instead, using his hands to support his body, he began struggling millimeter by millimeter to stand up.

The god merely stood there calmly, watching the Dragon Priest struggling to rise with a detached expression, their voice as chilling and distant as a cold wind spanning millions of years: ”Are you ready?”

”Yes, my Lord.”

”Even if it means becoming part of Omega?”

”As long as the chains are shattered, new saplings will always grow from the ruins,” Heragol finally stood up straight, for the first time in millions of years, he looked directly into the god’s eyes, ”We will become the soil, and the seeds...have already been planted.”

”Very good,” the god said, standing before him unfiltered by any technological means, the natural sunset light pouring down upon them like an orange-red cloak from the sky, magnificent and glorious. Between this sunset glow and the clouds, a huge, distorted phantasm was faintly visible; they slowly opened their arms as if to embrace this kingdom, gently saying, ”Then today...you have come of age.”

In an instant, the ”truth” that was once hidden from mortal perception violently shattered the fragile barrier of reality, the Dragon of Chaos obscuring the sun suddenly manifested in the sky over Talronde, its kilometer-long twisted limbs stretching in the sunset glow, revealing countless eyes, mouths, and arm-like structures.

At the same moment, the golden-haired woman on the terrace of the temple vanished in a flash of light, the high-ranked Dragon Priest stood erect and expressionless, watching this scene; he closed his eyes in the identity of Heragol, then opened them again as an individual branch of Omega.

The last dragon clan in Talronde to maintain self-will disappeared; now, countless dragons had awakened as part of Omega.

Every dragon had been implanted with a Resonance Core capable of directly connecting to the Omega network from birth; every dragon was an extension of Omega’s flesh and blood, a plan executed over millions of years. Generation after generation of dragonkin waited for this day throughout long ages—in this day, Omega would awaken from slumber, and the will of all dragonkin would be mechanically controlled. In some sense, the dragonkin of this world...were extinguished on this day.

Accompanied by the dragonkin’s ”extinction,” the bridge connecting mortals and gods vanished along with it, the Dragon of Chaos shrouding the sky over Talronde changed almost instantaneously; its body, hovering between reality and illusion formed of countless chaotic limbs, fluctuated violently, innumerable limbs disintegrated and disappeared amid these waves, the swelling, writhing body rapidly evaporated, shrinking and weakening. In less than a minute, it shrank from covering the entire continent to just a third the size of Talronde. Then in the next minute, it shrank to the size of a city and finally stabilized at this scale—it still obscured the sun, but it was now no longer invincible.

Countless dragon herds flew in from every corner of the kingdom, the weapons array buried deep underground, sealed for countless years, awakened along with them. Ancient missile silos opened their doors, and ancient turrets lying dormant in the sea arose to the surface. On this cold and lengthy polar day, the overdue adulthood day of the dragonkin...finally arrived.

...

The magnificent scene like a fiery meteor shower lasted for several consecutive minutes, the burning debris burst and scattered from the sky over Winterhold far exceeding the theoretical limits of division of that iron-gray giant, as if at this moment, the land was being showered not only by a fallen god but also by part of the ’divine realm’ connected to this god being swept into this world by the massive explosion.

Finally, all of this came to a halt, and the sky over the Winterhold Fortress Group became clear and calm once more.

Sunset light shone brilliantly, tilted from beyond the horizon, bathing this still-hot battlefield, the miles-long defense line, the scorching scorched earth, rising smoke and dust, wounded survivors, fallen warriors, destroyed fortifications, and castles still standing under the setting sun...all bathed in this glorious golden light. In this brief moment, it seemed as if all things in the world had come to a standstill.

The howling north wind rose again, sweeping up dust and distant snow, awakening some soldiers and commanders staring dazedly at the sky. At this moment, not a single person in the Winterhold Area cheered—no one realized the battle was over, did not realize the despair-inducing ”enemy” had really fallen, all were immersed in immense confusion and bewilderment. It was only several minutes later that scattered soldiers began to shout, and commanders received messages from higher-ups that ”the battle was over.”

Emperor Rosetta Augustus stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the Hall of Mysteries; he could not hear the cheers on the battlefield here nor the cries of the dying and wounded. The entire world had quieted down, so quiet it seemed as if the previous fierce battle was merely an illusion. He looked up to see those strangely shaped aircraft and soldiers still circling over Winterhold, and the incredible white spider had disappeared at some point.

Not far behind him, the Communication Crystal emitted a buzzing sound, with runes lighting up in succession on its surface, Palin Winterhold’s voice emerged from the crystal: ”Your Majesty, are you alright, Your Majesty? We just had an accident here...We saw the situation in the sky, we...”

”We won,” Rosetta said calmly, his gaze never leaving the sky, ”it seems our neighbors also had many good cards hidden...this time, this is a good thing.”

”As long as you are safe,” the voice of Count Winterhold immediately returned, ”a portion of the main wall on the west side of the castle has collapsed, your location may not be safe, please leave there as soon as possible—I have already sent people to the Hall of Mysteries to assist...”

”No, wait a little longer,” Emperor Rosetta suddenly interrupted Count Winterhold, ”I still have some matters to attend to here.”

”Your Majesty?”

”Both you and Duke Ferdinand Wendell should handle the aftermath of the battle first. We now have a huge mess to clean up,” Emperor Rosetta stated calmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. ”Although the enemy has been defeated, the damage he left behind is still spreading. The faster we manage the aftermath, the more people we can save. Additionally, there are other tasks to handle—the fragments that fell from the sky during the final phase are spreading across the entire battlefield, and no one knows what effects they might have. Assemble the Mage Corps who are able to move, and collect as many of those remnants as possible... The members of the Cecil Clan should have started taking action as well.”

”Yes, Your Majesty! And you...”

”I’m perfectly safe here, and I’ll contact you shortly—until you receive my orders, do not let anyone approach the Hall of Mysteries.”

”...Understood.”

Count Winterhold’s communication was cut off, and only then did Emperor Rosetta breathe a slight sigh of relief. He then turned and walked back to the center of the Hall of Mysteries. He glanced at the illusionary wall, shattered by the final magical impact, and the slightly disheveled hall. The fall of the War God and the close-range explosion of the Annihilation Seed had caused a certain degree of damage to this solid hall; the walls were cracked, the ceiling was also slightly damaged, and debris and dust covered the floor in a thick layer, while a set of table and chairs in the center was already covered in dust.

”Not really suitable for receiving guests... but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

He casually muttered these words, conjured an invisible whirlwind with a wave of his hand, which cleared most of the dust from the surface of the chairs. Afterward, he sat down rather nonchalantly, picked up a teacup that was placed upside down on the table, wiped the dust off the rim, picked up a nearby teapot, and poured himself a cup of cold tea.

After taking a sip, he sat here quietly, as if waiting for some destined event to arrive, while behind him, one by one, hazy and nearly transparent figures silently emerged from the air.

If there were an aristocratic scholar familiar with the Augustus Clan present, these figures should be quite recognizable—

George Augustus, Majori Augustus, Corinthina Augustus...

They were all members of the Augustus Clan who had already passed away, blood relatives of Emperor Rosetta Augustus over the past two hundred years.

Some of these figures were solid while others were so illusory they were barely visible. They stood silently behind Emperor Rosetta, quietly and patiently waiting. Their wait didn’t last long; soon enough, Majori Augustus’s phantom uttered a hollow and ethereal voice, almost like a sigh, ”The time has come.”

Almost the instant this voice fell, an invisible wind swept through the empty Hall of Mysteries, accompanied by the infusion of a dead, stagnant aura from the twilight glow outside the bay window. The ceiling and floor of the entire hall were instantly covered with points of starlight, as if countless whispers were echoing in the hall, countless murmurs from dreams emanating from all directions, while a hollow eye formed from a multitude of twisted and chaotic lines rapidly appeared before Rosetta—accompanied by a sharp, frantic shriek: ”What’s happening here!? What have you damned mortals done to me? Why can’t I return to my kingdom, why can’t I contact my real self, why... why is my power continuously fading away?!”

”Welcome back,” Rosetta calmly addressed the suddenly appeared ”Eye of the God.” For the first time in decades, his expression was so light-hearted, he even raised the teacup with a smile, ”Care for a cup of tea? Blended with centuries-old dust and the smoke from the battlefield of the gods.”

”You...” The Eye of the God suddenly turned toward Rosetta and immediately took notice of those vague figures behind him, ”Augustus... Is this the work of you insignificant mortals?!”

”Compared to the War God, your performance as a fragment from the Ancient Era is truly unflattering at this moment—the War God at least fought until the last moment,” Rosetta placed the teacup down and slowly stood up before the Eye of the God, ”Are you perplexed? You don’t understand why your power is rapidly dwindling away? You can’t figure out why you can’t contact your ’true self’? You don’t know why you can’t return to your kingdom?”

The chaotic outlines surrounding the Eye of the God trembled, perhaps in anger or tension. Rosetta, however, unhurriedly provided the answer:

”It’s quite simple; civilization has transitioned. The era in your memory... is actually from countless cycles of civilization ago, the Ancient Era. Your ’true self’ is some God of Dream Realms long reduced to history, whose kingdom no longer exists, whose followers have been completely exterminated. The wise beings of this current world have nothing in common. We are the descendants of Gondor Empire, not offspring of the Inversion Tide.

”Do you think you are deeply informed about this world? Do you believe you are in control of the situation?

”Regrettably, those things you know have been filtered by us—for this purpose, we have painstakingly prepared for two hundred years, across many generations.”

Rosetta burst into laughter, the most radiant laugh he had for decades. Even the figures behind him joined one by one in laughter as he faced the furious glare of the Eye of the God, cheerfully declaring:

”So here is the answer—the era has changed, yet we never informed you.”