Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1251: Chapter 1250: Memories of the Sand Dust

Gawain and Amber had left, leaving only the grandfather and grandson separated by six hundred years in the reception room. Modir looked in the direction of the door for a long time before finally withdrawing his gaze, the excitement on his face also subdued.

The old mage sat in the chair, seemingly trying hard to appear upright and reserved, hiding his emotions, but compared to his truly naturally poker-faced great-N granddaughter next to him, his hurried effort at a poker face ultimately lacked some skill. The old man adjusted his expression for a long time but still couldn’t control the corners of his mouth from curling up.

"You seem very happy." Victoria’s slightly chilly voice came from beside him. She had been observing the changes in her ancestor’s expression from the start, finally breaking the silence. She had expected Modir to be very happy upon seeing Gawain, but she clearly hadn’t anticipated him being this delighted.

"Of course!" Modir responded immediately, his smile no longer concealed, "That is Gawain Cecil! The founder of the kingdom, the pioneer in the wilderness! I never thought I’d get to see him in person one day—a living, breathing legendary hero in the real world! Wouldn’t you be excited to see such a person?"

"...The first time I met him, I was indeed very excited," Victoria recalled her initial contact with Gawain, then recalled a series of trades and exchanges between Anzu’s royal family and the southern borders, remembering the impressive economic and diplomatic skills of the living ancestor. The Northern Duchess who almost lost all her dowry money back then felt a shift in emotion, "...Later, what I felt was just pressure. He is quite a terrifying person, of course, that’s a kind of compliment."

Modir looked at Victoria, his expression becoming serious, speaking earnestly: "Having pressure while working in the Administrative Office is normal, but one shouldn’t develop negative thoughts about the king because of this..."

Victoria’s mouth stiffened for a moment, but unable to explain, she lowered her head to show acceptance of the advice: "You’re right to remind me, I shouldn’t complain because of pressure..."

While speaking, she couldn’t help but think of a lady’s face, of Crown Princess Heidi and her expertly drawn dark circles—immediately she felt she indeed didn’t have much pressure.

Modir, on the other hand, seemed lost in thought, the Great Adventurer’s gaze fell upon Victoria, after a few seconds of watching, he suddenly spoke in a deep voice: "When you met the king, you appeared very familiar, the king’s attitude towards you was also very cordial."

Victoria was startled, quickly responding: "That... I belong to the higher-level officials in the Administrative Office, therefore I’ve met the king a few times, and as for the king... he has always been cordial with people."

Modir laughed, gently shaking his head, using a knowing yet unconcerned tone, he slowly said: "I know there are some things you can’t tell me, it has truly put you in a difficult position these days. Don’t worry, I’ve imposed a lot of psychological suggestions and mental restrictions on myself, there are some matters I won’t imagine, won’t guess, and will definitely not ask about voluntarily—I’m not a stubborn old man who doesn’t understand right from wrong, you can rest assured about that."

Upon saying this, the Great Adventurer sighed lightly, yet still wore a smile: "I just hope that someday in the future I can lift the ’curse’ upon myself, and when that time comes... I want to hear you tell me personally who you really are, and who I really am."

Victoria stared fixedly at her ancestor for a long time, her expression becoming solemn: "Rest assured, that day surely won’t be far—because the king has personally come."

...

The bright magical brilliance radiated from the crystals, dispelling the dimness in the room beneath the polar night sky. Gawain walked into the suite specially arranged for him, his gaze casually sweeping across the surroundings.

The living room was spacious, with polished stone floors covered with soft carpets, tables, chairs, sofas, and shelves all complete, nearby were two doors leading to other rooms. On the opposite wall were gold-red tapestries and crystal-like thin boards used for decoration hanging from the ceiling, with elegant patterns shimmering with a metallic texture under the light on the edges of the board and surface of the tapestry.

This should be the best accommodation Talronde could currently offer. Many furnishings in the room were clearly relics from before the "coming of age"—Gawain could see the vivid, extravagant style of Talronde in its prime on those items, and these things were obviously not something the current Dragonkin could produce.

The Dragonkin had already abandoned the excessively luxurious and resource-wasting lifestyle of the past, but those relics of old glory discovered from ruins still needed to be utilized, thus the remnants of former splendor combined with the rugged architecture of the current wasteland era, create scenes of such strange wonders all over this land undergoing rebirth through fire.

Amber followed Gawain into the living room, immediately widening her eyes curiously gazing around. After the courteous Dragonkin attendant had left, she promptly ran over to the shelf by the wall, surprised looking at a cylindrical decoration placed there, and even tapped on it twice with her hand: "Hey, I remember this thing, but I recall it could make sound?"

"Provided it’s connected to the Omega network—currently, items like these have all become plain decorations, or material in the recycling yard." Gawain shook his head, coming to the coffee table in the center of the living room, this coffee table was made of some kind of silver-gray industrial synthetic material, with irregular geometric edges and transparent lines embedded on its surface, elegant patterns and relief carvings could be seen along its sides, it represented the typical "Old Talronde" vibe. Gawain speculated the transparent lines on its surface might have been some kind of ambient lamp before, and its tabletop might have once integrated a smart networked display screen—nonetheless, now it had returned to its basic function as furniture, apart from being sturdy, it was no different than a finely carved stone.

Such changes over the ages hide within the crevices of these details.

"Alright, stop examining, even if you study those disconnected devices, they won’t respond to you like before," Gawain remarked to Amber who was poking around here and there not far away, finally unable to resist speaking, "Come over and look into the serious matter first."

Amber reluctantly put down those Dragonkin items that seemed "potentially quite valuable" in her eyes, turning to the coffee table before Gawain. After throwing herself into the soft and comfortable sofa, she first stretched with effort, then casually rapped on the surface of the coffee table—a gentle breeze swept over the tabletop, with sandy dust like gauze wrapped by a cyclone, ambiguously floating before Gawain and swaying like mist upon the silver-gray surface of the coffee table.

Gawain was dumbfounded by her fluent operation, glancing at the smug disgrace of the alliance, speaking in surprise: "You’re already this familiar with manipulating it? This skill looks like you’ve practiced for ten years."

"I find that controlling these sands is very relaxed, and the key to controlling them seems already ingrained in my mind," Amber replied casually, her tone completely without modesty, "I don’t know how these sands genuinely operate, controlling them feels like an instinct, as long as it’s a suitable moment, the method naturally appears in my head..."

Gawain wrinkled his brows upon hearing this, mumbling with a seriously quiet voice: "A set of pirated sands but with an original manual, huh..."

Amber didn’t hear clearly: "Huh? What did you say?"

"No, it’s nothing," Gawain waved his hand and his gaze fell on the ’dust mist’ swirling and tumbling on the surface of the coffee table, "You separated these sands from Modir... Did this ’instinct’ also tell you how to do it?"

"Yeah," Amber nodded and then pinched her chin thoughtfully, "I detected certain ’essences’ of the sand on Modir. They seem to have replaced Modir’s original ’half-body,’ sustaining the survival of the Great Adventurer, so I wouldn’t dare to strip too much Shadow Sand Dust from him nor point out the presence of the sand in front of him—what if the old man suddenly realizes half his body is gone and gets emotional and collapses? I can’t beat Victoria..."

"Is there no problem with the sand dust you’ve separated from him?" Gawain asked with some unease, "If these sand particles have truly been sustaining Modir’s survival until now..."

"No problem, this is just a small portion; removing them won’t impact the operation of the remaining sand dust at all," Amber shook her head before Gawain could finish, "I can feel the ’critical point’ that sustains Modir’s survival, though I don’t know how to explain where this ’feeling’ comes from to you..."

"Then don’t explain," Gawain waved his hand and pointed to the swirling sand dust on the table, "Let’s talk about these sands first. You’ve taken them from Modir, but how do we know the secrets hidden in them? They won’t speak."

Amber was momentarily silent, just staring at the constantly dancing sand dust intently. She seemed to be contemplating and sensing something. After a long pause, she suddenly murmured quietly, "The sand won’t speak... but it has witnessed what happened before..."

While speaking, she slowly raised her hand and placed it above the sand dust.

The swirling ’dust mist’ on the coffee table suddenly halted its motion, and under Gawain’s surprised gaze, it came completely to a standstill, resuming its flow only after a few seconds, but this time not in the previous chaotic state but constantly churning, piling, and gradually unfolding into a three-dimensional scene across the table surface...

Gawain was wide-eyed with amazement: "This is..."

"Could be Modir’s memory, could be the sands’ memory, or it could be something seen from a third-party perspective," Amber said quietly, her voice carrying a low moan-like vibration. Gawain instinctively looked back and realized she had transformed into another appearance—her black hair floated as if freed from gravity, her amber pupils emitted a faint golden glow, and cloud-like shadow magic surrounded her, changing her entire aura considerably. Yet she seemed unaware of these changes and continued speaking, "What you see next isn’t a scene controlled by me—I’m merely guiding the sands to release their ’record,’ though I also don’t know what exactly they’ve recorded..."

As she spoke, Gawain noticed the sand dust on the coffee table had formed a clearer shape. He saw a scene of a sand sea suddenly rising into pillar-like structures, with criss-crossing lines and arches extending between these pillars. He noticed even larger, blurry structures outside these pillars but they couldn’t be fully revealed due to the sand dust’s limited scale; as the pillars and arches took shape, he then saw an unexpected figure rising in the center of the scene—a form built from grey-white sand dust, features indistinguishable, clad in what looked like a robe or cape, appearing to have just completed or perhaps still enduring a long and arduous journey...

Neither Gawain nor Amber could discern the figure’s facial features, but almost immediately their intuition told them the figure’s identity.

"That’s Modir!" Amber exclaimed, eyes wide, "That’s Modir Vealt’s memory!"

Gawain felt a similar excitement but quickly noticed new changes within the scene: "Wait, there’s something else!"

Before his words had faded, a small cyclone blew within the ’dust stage,’ and in front of the scene’s central ’Modir,’ two new figures suddenly appeared!

"What’s this..." Amber exclaimed, both guiding the shadow sand dust and watching the scene’s transformation with surprise, "Theoretically, these should be Modir Vealt’s last fragments before the ’splitting,’ why are two individuals suddenly emerging..."

Strange thoughts instantly flashed through Gawain’s mind: could it be that Modir Vealt from back then was divided by these two?

The scene formed by the sand dust continued to change. Gawain hurriedly pushed such uncontrollable thoughts aside, focusing on the central ’stage.’ He saw Modir, formed from sand, seeming to interact with the two figures in front of him. Though he couldn’t hear any sound, he could discern both parties’ body movements, indicating no apparent conflict between them.

"I thought they’d start fighting," Amber suddenly remarked, "When I first saw it, I thought Modir was split by those two and was bracing for a horror show."

Gawain: "..."

He was embarrassed to admit his earlier thought coincided with the one of his alliance’s disgrace, and his expression became a bit stiff, so he forcibly redirected the topic: "Speaking of which, these two figures are also indistinct..."

"Yes, very blurry," Amber widened her eyes, carefully gazing at the scene formed from grey-white sand dust, "This one at the front is Modir, I can confirm, even if I can’t see clearly I can feel it, but the two appearing afterwards are really hard to discern... I can’t sense their aura..."

"Could it be clearer?" Gawain couldn’t help looking at Amber, "Like adjusting the projection’s focus or something..."

"I’m not a Magic Web Terminal! I don’t have adjustable focus!" Amber immediately bared her teeth, dismissing Gawain’s request on the spot, "Plus, it’s formed by sand; even if more refined, this is as good as it gets... after all, the scene is of limited scope and can’t be zoomed in."

"Modir’s resolution isn’t great..." Gawain couldn’t help but sigh, yet his gaze grew more attentive towards the two figures appearing before Modir, striving to distinguish clues within the blurry sand dust. In such earnest observation, he finally discovered something, "These two appear to be female, look at their attire... huh? Wait! Amber, do they look somewhat elf-like to you?"