Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1065: Chapter 1064: Sunshine

Two days after arriving in Talronde, Cassandra did her best to understand this mysterious land that had just experienced a devastating war. For countless centuries, this ancient kingdom kept its doors closed, surrounded by the endless Ice Ocean, covered by the continent’s barrier, Talronde was like a mysterious alien world veiled. Even the equally ancient sea demons had never glimpsed the true face of this land, and as a Deep Sea Witch possessing wisdom, Cassandra was naturally curious about everything on this continent.

Regretfully, however, the glorious sights of this land have vanished into history, a miracle built over millions of years destroyed in days, now leaving only the ravaged lands and city ruins scattered across the continent. Cassandra could only piece together its former appearance from the survivors, from the ruins of giant facilities that collapsed, from those lucky enough to preserve rare and vague footage.

On the other hand, Melita was constantly inquiring from this sea demon and the Nagas about the recent changes in the human world during this period—after losing the Omega System, Talronde’s once-prided advanced communication systems had completely shut down, and Melita had not heard a message from the Loren Continent for a very long time.

Meanwhile, the news "an exploration team from the human Cecil Empire accidentally arriving in Talronde" was quickly delivered from the coast camp to the current temporary "capital" of the Dragonkin, the Agondale camp. It was only at this moment that the Dragonkin first learned of the situation in the human world and learned about the upcoming "international conference" to be held at the northeastern border of the Gondor wasteland.

——Archduke Balogar of Dragonblood had just returned to the Sacred Dragon Kingdom and had not yet managed to deliver news from the Loren Continent back to Talronde.

On the third day of Cassandra setting foot on Talronde soil, a small special team arrived at the camp on the Broken Shore, personally led by Heragor.

Inside the house where Melita and Nuoletta lived in the Broken Shore camp, Magic crystal lamps emitted constant light, illuminating this temporary residence built with reclaimed materials and boulders. The sea wind roared outside, sweeping up pebbles and sand smashing against the walls made of alloy plates, but the cold wind was ultimately kept outside this small sanctuary—the house remained warm, ensuring Cassandra did not have to worry about her tail freezing in the wind.

She curiously observed the middle-aged male sitting in front of her—allegedly, this was the current highest ruler of the Dragonkin. Even in human form, he retained a pair of golden vertical pupils, manifesting obvious Dragonkin traits. His face appeared serious, deeply set eyes, and a high nose bridge. From the human form’s aesthetic standards, he could be seen as formidable and extraordinary. However, the centuries-old Deep Sea Witch noticed a trace of exhaustion intentionally hidden deep within those eyes, evidently, this leader was under immense pressure.

Yet, an endless fighting spirit emanated from this Dragonkin leader, completely overshadowing the fatigue brought by pressure—the spirit was evident in the appearance, represented by Heragor’s burning gaze and steady, powerful voice: "Honorable lady, I apologize for keeping you waiting here for three days—I should have come immediately, but matters at our main base are overly busy, making it difficult to extricate myself."

"I understand, people’s survival takes priority in such situations," Cassandra’s demeanor equally became serious and earnest—even though sea demons are lively by nature, as a Deep Sea Witch who has lived for ages, she knew well enough when to act seriously, "My subordinates and I have been well taken care of by Misses Melita and Nuoletta here, the waiting days are still fulfilling."

"That’s good," Heragor nodded, simultaneously gazing into Cassandra’s eyes, "Then I’ll get straight to the point—I heard about the news you brought, supposedly... the mortal races on Loren Continent are attempting to establish a sizable alliance, transcending races and nations?"

"Yes, it was initially proposed by Emperor Gawain Cecil, the Typhon Empire and the Cecil Empire are the main initiators of this alliance," Cassandra nodded, "However, the intelligence I provide is only for reference—I am merely leading an exploration team, at most I can represent Northport, unable to act as an ambassador nor represent the official voice of the Cecil Empire."

"I understand," Heragor immediately responded, then slightly pondered, "Then... does this alliance restrict participants to be forces within Loren Continent?"

"This... as far as I know, there seems to be no such restriction, if anything, I suppose Emperor Gawain initially never thought there would be anything outside of Loren Continent..." realizing halfway through her response, Cassandra suddenly reacted, "Wait, are you implying that the Dragonkin of Talronde also wish to..."

"I still need to learn more about this alliance’s intelligence," Heragor nodded, "but in the meantime, I am personally indeed very interested in this alliance."

Cassandra widened her eyes as she realized at that moment that her unexpected venture might lead to an even more surprising discovery.

...

On an open space within the camp, Melita Ponia saw the Red Dragon Carladore who arrived together with the leader.

Behind Carladore, several powerful dragons were vigilantly guarding something in the center of the open space, layered with thick fabrics and a sturdy box. Its surface has no markings, nor could any aura be sensed within, clearly apart from ordinary protection, the thing had undergone aura shielding and other defenses—this item was conspicuously placed on the open space, making it unusually eye-catching, so much so that Melita instinctively glanced several times before refocusing her gaze on Carladore.

"I heard you were looking for me," she said to the Red Dragon in front of her, wearing a curious expression, "is there something going on?"

"There is a task, the leader wishes to entrust it to you," in human form, Carladore spoke with a serious expression, "this task may require you to temporarily leave Talronde."

"Leave Talronde? At a time like this?" Melita was taken aback, "But I am currently busy here..."

"I know the fishing grounds at the Broken Shore are very important, but what you need to do is more significant than here," Carladore interrupted Melita before she could finish, shaking his head, "rest assured, Nuoletta is capable of handling everything here, and Agondale will send additional dragons to maintain this camp’s operations, you need not worry about this place."

Melita recognized the seriousness of the matter and immediately nodded: "Alright, I understand—what does the leader want me to do?"

"You are currently the dragon most knowledgeable about the human world, and the only one who has a personal association with the legendary pioneer from the Cecil Empire—now we require you to travel to Cecil as a Dragonkin ambassador," Carladore solemnly stated, then slightly inclined his body, signifying the item closely guarded by the dragons behind him, "In addition, your other task is to deliver this item to Emperor Gawain Cecil."

Melita listened in surprise, at this moment her gaze fell once again on the mysterious item covered heavily by fabrics, clearly a large box, and could not help but ask: "I was curious earlier... what exactly is that?"

In that instant, Carladore felt a faint headache—the origin of the item in the box was not an easy matter to elucidate, not that the truth was particularly complex, but the fact itself was baffling to a certain extent. Yet he knew he had to explain, since Melita would inevitably learn of what she was delivering, also, she had sufficient clearance to know what that item was.

"...First, it’s a dragon egg," Carladore slowly explained, "then—find something to support yourself—this dragon egg was left by a God."

"Ah, I... ah ha?!!"

"See, I told you to hold on tight?"

...

With the arrival of the Revival Month, the first warm current melted the snow on the plains, and the extended daylight also dispersed the long-standing fog. After a whole winter of desolation shrouded in dense fog, Aldernon finally began to awaken, welcoming the long-lost first ray of sunshine in this warm spring.

On both sides of the ancient Imperial Avenue, citizens wearing winter attire and those who have just donned spring clothes walked onto the streets. The giant sun hung high over the city, its warm glow shining on the rooftops and the crystal glass of shop windows nearby. People conversed in front of their house doors or beside shop windows, discussing the winter that had just passed, the war that had ended, or the meeting that was about to take place.

A black magic-guided vehicle, adorned with the emblems of the aristocracy, rolled over the wide and smooth surface of the Imperial Avenue, steadily moving forward. Duke Ferdinand Wendell sat inside the vehicle, his gaze sweeping over the scenery on the street as the vehicle advanced.

The company representatives riding bicycles reappeared on the streets, the crisp sound of their bells spreading along the roads. Amidst the spinning wheels, their hurried figures turned into the depths of alleys; carefree children played at street corners, waving old flyers and colorful strips picked up from who-knows-where, with faint words about the church and the Noble Congress still visible on the flyers; men out to purchase food passed by the roadside, draped in heavy coats, with hurried footsteps.

The magic-guided vehicle traveled down a section of road, entered the next intersection, and the car horn echoed through the street.

A household by the road had its doors and windows tightly shut, with strings of the pale-white Death Chrysanthemum flowers dangling on either side of the front door, gently swaying in the wind. A black-clad elderly woman sat in a daze on the steps before the door, draped in a black blanket bearing the insignia of the Imperial Knights, clutching a letter sent from some unknown place.

A knight officer, clad in a military coat, paced under the sunlight. As the magic-guided vehicle passed by, he looked up, recognizing the emblem on the vehicle and halted, turning to silently watch as the vehicle drove past. A fierce scar ran from his brow to below his neck, with the end of the scar at the collar adorned with a medal.

As the vehicle approached the Obsidian Palace, the city broadcasts began to play. After a few short bursts of static, lively music followed—melodies adapted from court music by musicians for a more accessible appeal.

Since a month ago, this melody would play daily. Underneath this melody, some people’s wounds gradually healed, some people’s fates became fixed amid the darkness, and all the undertows and hidden strife occurred and were coming to an end. When the melody played the next day, the sun would still rise, shining over the misty city until the fog dissipated, and those who survived continued to face this world that was neither beautiful nor ugly.

However, the arrow-tailed swallows nesting within the walls of the Obsidian Palace could not understand the happiness and sadness of the human world. They were simply startled by the sudden broadcast sound, rising to the sky in a flurry of wing flaps, chaotically flying over the magic-guided vehicle.

"Your Majesty," an Attendant entered Emperor Rosetta Augustus’s study, bowed, and said, "Duke Ferdinand Wendell has already entered the courtyard."

"Let him come directly here," Rosetta nodded and said.

After the Attendant withdrew, Matilda, who was helping process state affairs at the desk, looked towards her father: "Do I need to leave?"

"No need," Rosetta glanced at Matilda, "You can stay here."

Matilda nodded, and after a brief moment, the aged yet still imposing Duke Ferdinand Wendell entered the study.

"Your Majesty, and Princess Veronica," the old Duke bowed his head in greeting, "Good day."

"Tell us about the state of the city," Rosetta said casually. Compared to before when he was entangled by a curse, the negative aura around him had dissipated much, though he was far from being a gentle person. At this moment, the Typhon Ruler no longer exuded the oppressive and sinister atmosphere that made people feel depressed, "What did you see on your way here?"

"Aldernon is slowly recovering—just like the Empire," Ferdinand sat across from the desk, "The situation has stabilized, those who once doubted have vanished, and those who wavered now stand on the right side. Our forces used to maintain order have been greatly reduced, but the forces that disrupt order have weakened even more. However... the Congress Street and several upper districts are now much quieter."

"Given time, those places will become lively again," Rosetta said calmly, "We just need to continue maintaining stability, let production gradually recover, let the supply and prices of goods in other regions further stabilize, and pass through this dangerous period for things to continue improving."

He paused for a moment and then asked, "What of the Sect of the God of War?"

"The church itself was easier to handle than expected—with the decline of the power of the War God, the remaining priests and Church Knights have lost all power. Even though some hold onto their original beliefs, they ultimately submit to the arrangements of the royal family. The reform committee has now stationed themselves in the Sage Hall, beginning to take stock of the assets and remaining personnel of the Sect of the God of War. By the way, the numbers in those account books are quite... astonishing.

"The more troublesome aspect is among the populace. The faith of the War God has persisted in our country for a very long time, and its influence has penetrated all corners of society. Although ordinary citizens do not possess the high devoutness and organizational capacity of the priests, those countless common believers still remain an unstable factor."

"That’s why we need the reform committee to handle this transition," Rosetta said, "The Cecil Clan’s methods are very effective. They know how to guide public opinion and subtly change society without exacerbating tensions—they turned the largest Church of the Holy Light into a facility for learning and converted the Church of the Holy Light teachings into a kind of civil convention. Although these experiences might not apply perfectly to Typhon, at least they offer us a path."

Ferdinand bowed his head: "Indeed, as you say."

Then Rosetta pondered for a moment, thoughtfully saying, "Since we mentioned the Cecil Clan... Duke Ferdinand, is their warship still active near the East Coast?"