Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1189: Chapter 1188: Family Letter

Autumn deepens, and the chilly evening breeze has completely replaced the once scorching summer air. The wind from the northern plains rustles the leaves of the trees outside the office, with the sound echoing in the sunset as a couple of leaves are swept inside, spinning through the open window and landing near a swiftly writing pen on the desk.

Aunt Heidi’s attention was interrupted by the falling leaf. She lifted her gaze to look out the window, her hand unconsciously stopping its signing. Seeing a flock of migrating birds flying across the vast, clear sky, the Grand Governor of the Empire couldn’t help but smile and gently murmured to herself, ”It’s autumn again... This year has finally passed peacefully for the most part.”

Then, with a soft snap of her fingers, the window silently closed due to the invisible magic closing it. The crisp sound blocked out the overly cold autumn wind nearing evening outside the window. Aunt Heidi lowered her head, her attention returning to the seemingly endless documents at hand. After confirming once more, she prepared to sign her name at the end of the document.

But an inexplicable chill suddenly surged through her, causing her hand, poised to sign, to tremble suddenly, nearly leaving a deep ink mark on the paper.

Aunt Heidi was momentarily stunned, and the Grand Princess of the Empire furrowed her brows, muttering to herself with a blend of amusement and frustration, ”Could it be Rebecca stirring up something again... no, I’m thinking too much. Her projects have been quite stable recently, and not long ago we approved an additional fund... perhaps I’m just too tired.”

She laughed self-deprecatingly, gently rubbing her forehead, but couldn’t help glancing at a nearby file cabinet—inside, locked away, were the financial summary from the first half of the year and the budget plan for the second half. Of course, it wasn’t everything, only the files she had to personally handle. Her gaze returned, sweeping over the newly organized documents on the desk, the parchment cover printed with large, clear letters: ”New Trade Memo for Continental Route (Northern Segment)”.

Within these piled-up documents, the economic river of the Empire flowed, amounts unimaginable under the old economic system, wealth far beyond what the Anzu land nobility could ever touch in their lifetime. As often said by ancestors, money that flows is true money, and an economy that circulates quickly is like flowing gold—having personally managed most of the internal affairs, Aunt Heidi has profound insights that others find hard to comprehend.

However, this massive wealth always comes and goes swiftly—the continental route and the railway trade line indeed brought astonishing revenue to the Empire, yet each of the planned major projects also consumes gold at a staggering rate. Be it next season’s resettlement works beneath the Plains of the Holy Spirits or nationwide infrastructure, communication, energy projects, or next year’s educational expansion in the Eastern Region, or Project 115 that Rebecca is currently overseeing... behind each project follows what seems to be endless budget reports, ”gold coins like flowing water”, disappearing without a trace once they seep into these projects.

This sometimes even brings Aunt Heidi a strange sense of disparity—as if there’s not much difference from the family’s decline back then. Although the money circulating under her control now is beyond imagining compared to her past, just as much comes in as goes out each year. The end result is still having no money...

Some whimsical thoughts seemed to pass through her mind, causing Aunt Heidi to laugh. She lightly patted her face, pulling herself out of these odd thoughts and looked up at the window—under the clear sky, from this office, she could directly view some high-rise buildings in the southern city district. She saw a clock tower standing near the Imperial Academy, alongside the church spire and the energy tower of the Magic Technology Research Institute, all looming against the twilight background. There lies an urban area bustling with countless lives—people living there, working there, visitors, scholars, and travelers from far and wide converging in this city...

The ”gold coins” flowing and seeping into each project haven’t truly vanished; they’ve left perhaps the most precious traces on this land: the order ancestors strived to create, the nation jointly built by the Empire’s citizens. These undeniable traces are far more valuable than money piled in castles waiting to rot.

...Though Project 115 is indeed costly...

Thinking about the matters that have recently troubled her, Aunt Heidi’s relaxed expression stiffened for a moment. She could only sigh helplessly, once again focusing on the next document waiting to be processed. On the header of that document, in bold letters, it read: ”Winterhold Castle ’Door’ Project Launch Plan”.

...

As dusk approaches the Plains of the Holy Spirits, the Sorin Giant Tree, renowned for its ”miraculous” name, presents a scene even more dreamlike and wondrous than during the day—the final strands of twilight sky incline and spill below the giant tree’s canopy, weaving a grand arc of the ”giant curtain” in the narrow space between canopy and earth. As this curtain gradually dims, the countless vines hanging down from the tree begin to emit a gentle, glowing light, while the glowing flowers entwined around the columns connecting canopy and ground bloom in succession—a fairy tale-like world descends upon this land at evening time, even the once iron-hearted Wolf General couldn’t help but want to lose himself in this ”fairy tale”.

Bard stood on a suspended platform at the edge of the lower canopy, staring almost entranced at the vines glowing softly and the blooming glowing flowers, watching them illuminate the ”shadow zone” falling into the night sky like starlight, suddenly letting out a sigh.

A bright and clear female voice sounded from behind him, ”Bard, thinking about your daughter again?”

Bard was startled by the voice and turned around to see General Margarita, dressed in casual knights’ attire, standing behind him. The chief military officer of the Sorin Region had a faint smile on her face and was without an escort.

”General,” Bard promptly straightened up to salute, his manner conscientious, ”Good afternoon.”

”Relax, relax, I’m on a break now, and it’s not working hours for you,” Margarita waved her hand casually. ”You haven’t answered my question—are you thinking about your daughter?”

”...I wanted to cover it up out of pride, but now that you’ve seen through it, I can only admit,” Bard forced a smile, ”I am feeling a bit...not used to it. She used to love this platform, especially at dusk—it’s one of the few public areas she’s allowed to frequent. From here, you can see most of Sorinburg and the scenery of the plains outside—she often says this place is like the ’Green Fairy’ stories that her mother used to tell her as a child... yet I have completely no idea what stories my wife has narrated to our daughter.”

Margarita stood there, seriously looking into Bard’s eyes for a long while before shaking her head: ”Sometimes prolonged separation isn’t scary; what truly agonizes is that after a long separation, you finally get to reunite only to face another farewell shortly after—though often I find the stories bards tell are overly sentimental, this is one saying I have always agreed with.”

Bard opened his mouth, but ended up smiling helplessly and nodding, ”Who wouldn’t agree...”

Margarita looked at him, and after a brief pause, she suddenly assumed a serious demeanor, raising her voice: ”Researcher Bard Wendell!”

Bard froze, not knowing what happened, but instinctively he straightened up instantly and responded loudly, ”Yes, General!”

Margarita had unknowingly retrieved a thick envelope from behind, raising her hand to hand it to Bard: ”Reach out, take your family letter!”

”Family letter?” Bard was stunned, subconsciously accepting what Margarita handed to him, but it wasn’t until two seconds later that he realized it was a letter. He blinked, inspecting the cross-border stamps and inspection marks on the envelope, finally landing his gaze on the familiar emblem of a sword blade and wolf head, his eyes changing at last, his voice filled with bewilderment, ”Is this... could this be...”

”You can look at it when you get back, or open it now—anyway, you probably already guessed that this letter was opened and inspected by multiple reviewers before it reached your hands,” Margarita nodded, ”Your daughter sent it to you.”

Bard finally confirmed that what was before him wasn’t an illusion, and what he held wasn’t a fake, yet he still found it hard to believe—he wasn’t an ignorant country bumpkin; he knew full well about his unique past and sensitive identity. He was even more aware of how special his family’s status in Typhon was. On one side was the former Wolf General and Dark Cultist, now a technical expert and classified personnel; on the other side was a senior officer and top aristocrat from a foreign country. Such a unique situation at any time could cause sleepless nights for the officials handling these affairs, yet now... he actually received a ”family letter” from Typhon?

”I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Bard Wendell,” Margarita had been watching Bard’s expression, and at this moment, she smiled, ”It wasn’t easy; there are too many sensitive links involved, and you still have quite a few historical issues. Whether it’s the Cecil Clan or Typhon, there are people nervous and worried, but you should be grateful that there are still those willing to help you. Moreover... we have a magnanimous monarch.”

Saying this, the female general paused for a moment, then casually added, ”Well, since the letter could be sent, it shows that Rosetta Augustus is alright too...”

”...I should thank everyone who provided help, thank our King, and thank you,” Bard said, somewhat agitatedly, clutching the letter in his hand, restraining his urge to open it right away, ”I wasn’t expecting...”

”We can talk about this later. You can find some time to buy me a drink,” Margarita waved her hand, ”What you should be more thankful for is the peace between us and Typhon now, and hope that this peace can last a little longer. As for now... do you want to open it and take a look?”

Bard hesitated for a moment but finally couldn’t resist. He carefully unsealed the letter, and as he pulled out the paper, some light objects sealed in transparent wax fell into his hand.

They were small golden flowers sealed in wax, not a rare species, commonly seen in the central and western regions of Typhon. Yet for the Wendell family, these small golden flowers had a different significance.

His gaze lingered long on those flowers, now preserved as specimens. It was clear that these wax-sealed specimens weren’t crafted well; any skillful aristocratic young lady seeing these might think they were a waste of the beautiful petals, but Bard knew...the person who made these tiny specimens was also not some ”skillful” aristocratic lady.

He unfolded the letter, his eyes landing on the beginning—

”Father, the Golden Dalia Flowers at Long Branch Manor bloomed in the summer. I picked the prettiest ones and made them into specimens...”

The letter was long, and who knows how long Andresha struggled with the words...perhaps she had bitten through several pens?

A hint of a smile appeared on Bard’s face as his eyes moved over each word on the letter. The awkward phrasing, the accidental smudges, the paper torn because she pressed too hard...in his eyes, they all seemed to shine.

Margarita just patiently stood by, smiling. She was familiar with Bard’s current expression; she had seen it many times—the warriors who left their hometowns, following the construction army into barren lands, had the same look on their faces when they received letters from home.

”There’s another one inside—from your father.”

After this reminder, she again fell silent, leaving only the sound of rustling paper and breathing at the edge of the platform.

Perhaps mindful of the passing time, Bard finally increased his reading speed. Only after finishing the last line did he carefully refold the paper, put it back in the envelope, and inspected those roughly crafted specimens several times before placing them with the envelope close to his heart—only then did he look up at Margarita, ”Sorry, I took too long.”

”Compared to over a decade of separation, it’s not long,” Margarita gently shook her head, somewhat curious, ”Were those wax-sealed golden flowers just now sent by your daughter?”

”Ah... yes, it’s a traditional craft unique to Typhon, using a very special transparent wax. Over there, girls from wealthy families make these to show off their skillfulness. Depending on the flowers, they can be given to elders to express blessings, to friends as a token of friendship, or to one’s beloved to express affection... But Andresha never liked such things since she was little. She’s always been clumsy with crafts and can’t remember the meanings of the flowers,” Bard laughed, still murmuring, ”Sigh... it seems her skills haven’t improved at all. Finding a suitor might be tough...”

Margarita coughed twice and then deliberately asked, ”Since you think they’re not well made, how about giving them to me?”

”That won’t do—they’re from Andresha to me!”

Margarita looked at the now plump former Wolf General before her, and after a few seconds, they both laughed together.

”Alright, we’ve dawdled long enough,” Margarita gently exhaled, looked up at the distant sky, and nodded at Bard, ”I have another matter—I happened to encounter one of Madam Beltira’s avatars. She asked me to pass on a message to meet her in her laboratory after dinner.”

”Beltira? Alright,” Bard nodded, then, with a bit of confusion, added, ”But why didn’t she tell me directly... this is within the Sorin Giant Tree area, she could just drop a vine to communicate.”

Margarita shrugged, ”I asked her—she said life needs a bit of ritual.”

Bard: ”...”