Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 750 - 749: A Glorious Era

The outskirts of Cecil Castle.

A gigantic Magic Web relay tower stands at the edge of the snow-covered fields, its spire shining with metallic and crystalline luster under the bright sunlight. The colossal antenna arrays and crystal structures atop the tower quietly rotate under the control of a series of mechanical devices, providing Magic Web signal relay services for this city and the vast surrounding areas.

At the very tip of the tower, a long serpentine tail clings to the icy steel surface.

The tail retracts and sways; Tiel pokes her head out from under the antenna. She lifts her head to face the cold wind, her long hair dancing in the breeze. The "song" understood only by sea demons, rides the ripples of magic, lingering at her ears.

"Naga..." The sea demon furrows her brows and murmurs to herself with a hint of confusion, "Such strange things happen even after being away for just a while..."

With that, she gently shakes her head, bends down, and loosens her tail, preparing to slide down from the tower to the ground.

"No matter, strange things always happen in the deep sea. I’m just not sure if Gawain would be interested... Huh?"

Tiel blinked in confusion and leaned forward, but the latter half of her tail remained motionless.

She looked back to see her tail still firmly wrapped around the antenna base, the scales covered with a layer of sparkling ice crystals, giving it a semi-transparent appearance.

"Ah..." The sea demon began to panic slightly, exerting more force to move her tail, "Darn... it’s frozen... it’s so cold up here... someone help..."

A sharp crack sounded in her ear, Tiel’s struggle ceased abruptly as she dazedly looked in the direction of the sound, seeing clean cracks appearing on the latter half of her tail, the cracks spreading outward along the transparent ice crystals.

Tiel glanced in the direction from which she had come and saw the smooth, icy slope of the tower top and the distant ground below.

The tail snapped with a crack.

"...Gentle deep sea... today is truly a failure fish day..."

...

Within Cecil Castle, three young travelers from all around the world found themselves walking the winter streets, drawn together by serendipity.

The pristine streets were immaculate, with tall and aesthetic buildings aligning both sides of the road. Shops, residences, cafés, and various public facilities were interspersed throughout this incredible city. Citizens clad in warm winter garb appeared everywhere, spirited and unbothered by the cold and hunger in this chilling winter.

At street intersections, squares, and gathering places of crowds, holographic projections from Magic Web terminals were ubiquitous, either showing the latest broadcast programs, administrative office announcements, or advertisements from various guilds and companies.

Philem resembled a Magic Web Terminal running at full capacity, widening his eyes at the city and observing every perceivable detail. To this young man from Balon, Cecil Castle seemed to be a stage filled with fantasy, marvels, and incredible events, every detail being so wondrous and unbelievable yet genuinely present.

Fendil also observed the city, but unlike Philem, this young aristocrat from the northern mountain range perceived it on a completely different level.

This is a city without divisions between noble estates and commoner areas, where all city facilities are open to all lawful citizens, prioritizing survival and comfort.

To traditional aristocrats, this locale could be described as rebellious.

Yet the age of classical aristocracy has ended, and the order within this city has become the new "norm," which sooner or later must be propagated to the mountains of the northern areas.

His aunt seemed prepared for this; so must the northern nobles who still occupy their castles and manors. Fendil himself finally understood why his aunt insisted on sending him here, to be influenced by the Cecil Order firsthand.

Some things clearly cannot be fully experienced through books or descriptions from others.

"I thought we were to begin your ’Magic Shadow Drama’ immediately," said Elywen, glancing at Philem beside him as they walked, "We’ve already secured a venue and assembled some crew, but it seems you require additional preparation?"

"Yes..." Philem replied hesitantly, but his tone quickly turned natural, "The king reminded me about the authenticity of the script, urging me to observe what the true southern borders are like — only when I strolled around today did I truly appreciate his thoughtful counsel. My previous scripts contained far too many assumptions. The true essence of the southern borders has exceeded my imagination, and without observing it closely, I fear my productions would elicit ridicule from the locals."

"Although I think you’re somewhat exaggerating, there’s some truth in it," Fendil laughed, shrugging, "After all, we’ve witnessed firsthand how residents here do not rely on ample charcoal for heating — they use magic energy exchangers instead."

Philem chuckled awkwardly.

"Starting tomorrow, I intend to visit a few people," he said, "I’ve heard many immigrant families reside in the western district; they experienced the city’s first expansion and have a deep understanding of those times. Also, I wish to visit some gentlemen in the craftsman district who only arrived from the Old Capital two months ago. From them, I expect to hear firsthand accounts of how immigrants began new lives here."

"Grounded approach, a good start," Fendil nodded approvingly, "Over the next few days, both Elywen and I will officially report to the Academy. Do come visit when you can; you might learn how those who came for the sake of education live and study in the south."

Joining in, Elywen added, "Moreover, rest assured, we will continue assisting you in your Magic Shadow Drama production — I reckon the Academy’s coursework should not consume all our time such that we can’t help a friend. Despite any busy schedule, we can at least brainstorm ideas with you."

"I am truly grateful to you both — without your support, I wouldn’t know where to start with many things, not being as mature as my father," Fendil expressed gratitude before hesitating slightly, then continued, "Honestly, I... did not expect to have the opportunity to work with people like you."

Fendil regarded Philem, "Still concerned about our status?"

Philem looked at the towering northern aristocrat and, after a brief contemplation, nodded, "I cannot go against my instincts — I still feel somewhat restrained speaking with you, but I sense I’m gradually adapting. You both have a distinctive... atmosphere, quite intriguing. I struggle to find the words to describe it."

Fendil quietly observed Philem for two seconds, then chuckled softly and shook his head, "In fact, if you met us before the signing ceremony at Silver Castle, your impression would be indistinguishable from any other nobles you’ve encountered."

Philem was momentarily stunned in surprise.

"All those grandiose impressions you’ve experienced, we possess them too, but unlike those of older generations, we understand the importance of temperance," Fendil explained calmly, "The norms of nobility... ah, it’s like a room filled with fish and prawns. Those inside are deeply saturated by its scent, and none within this circle can escape, or rather, none are permitted to escape.

"My friend, Elywen and I also came out of that room—but just as His Majesty the Emperor said, a new era has arrived, and anyone familiar with history will understand one thing: only those who embrace the new era in time are eligible to survive.

"Of course, saying this doesn’t mean I’m faking my friendship with you. On the contrary, I’m very satisfied with our current state, because just as there will always be one bottle of wine out of a thousand that is accidentally broken, among a thousand aristocrats there will always be a few odd fellows."

On the other side, Elywen also interjected: "Thanks to the signing ceremony at Silver Castle—at least now some aristocrats who don’t want to stay in that room filled with fish and shrimps have the opportunity to legally come out. I can already foresee that the signing ceremony will definitely be recorded in the annals and become a lesson future scholars must study."

Philem listened to his two partners speaking, showing a thoughtful expression, but then shook his head slightly with a hint of embarrassment: "Even though I understood, I’m not very familiar with history... My knowledge of history comes from those exaggerated old scripts. You should know, in the past, commoners were not allowed to access real historical texts."

"...The Imperial Academy has history courses," Fendil said with a pause, then suddenly said slowly, "I think that might be His Majesty the Emperor’s greatest point."

Philem looked somewhat confused for a moment.

Seeing the confusion in his eyes, Fendil stretched out his hand to pat his shoulder: "If there’s a chance, buy more books to read. The books now allowed for commoners to read are much more than before."

"I want to go to a place," Elywen suddenly said, looking at Fendil, "You probably want to see it too, right?"

Fendil almost instantly understood what he meant and nodded slightly: "Alright, after all, he’s here..."

Philem looked at the two in confusion: "What are you talking about?"

"We’re going to see someone, a mutual friend of ours," Fendil said softly, "You should come too, get to know him."

Philem glanced between Fendil and Elywen, noticing some changes in their expressions that he couldn’t quite explain, but he nodded: "Of course... Is it far?"

"Not far at all," Elywen looked up, gazing toward the end of the street, "I heard... he’s settled over there."

Philem noticed a peculiar word in Elywen’s speech: "Settled?"

But Elywen did not answer, only followed Fendil’s footsteps toward the end of the street.

Philem could only follow, carrying a slight confusion.

...

At the end of the street, a solemn building stood on a small square.

The building looked exceptionally new, seemingly just completed not long ago.

"Anzu Civil War Memorial..." Philem raised his head, curiously watching the sign at the entrance of the building, "Your friend is here?"

"Indeed." Fendil nodded and first stepped towards the ten stairs leading to the memorial.

There were guardians at the entrance who informed the three that today was a closed day and the memorial was not open to the general public, but Philem saw Elywen and Fendil step forward to say something to the guardians and showed their respective identifications. After some negotiation, the two soldiers nodded in agreement and turned to open the memorial’s door.

"Please leave within an hour and do not enter side halls and rear corridors," the guardian reminded them after opening the door.

"This counts as using a bit of ’privilege,’ I suppose." Fendil said with a hint of mockery as he watched Philem walking up the stairs.

The three stepped into the building that appeared somewhat special. Soon after entering the door, Philem saw a hall appear before him.

Because it was a closed day, the place seemed very quiet, with the hall’s lights only partially lit. In the dim light, Philem immediately noticed the "figure" standing in the center of the hall.

Following Fendil and Elywen closer, he realized that figure was actually a vividly lifelike sculpture.

A young man, leaning on a Longsword and wearing armor, stood there, bathed in the glow of an isolated Magic crystal lamp, quietly gazing towards the hall entrance.

Reaching this point, Philem had already understood.

This must be the "mutual friend" Fendil and Elywen mentioned.

"He is Belk, Belk Loren," Fendil finally spoke, watching the lifelike sculpture with eyes that did not move away, "He is the oldest among us three."

"He walked a path we never dared to think of, and reached a conclusion we never imagined," Elywen sighed softly, "He once told us many things about era and transformation, but when he was willing to share those, I never understood. When I finally did, he was already here."

Fendil faced Belk’s "statue," and he looked deeply into those eyes that had turned into cold stone, suddenly breaking the silence:

"Belk, as you wished, this great era has finally arrived."

A heavy and solemn atmosphere lingered here, and Philem didn’t know what to say. He was silent for a long time until he finally spoke: "Could you tell me about him?"

"Certainly, but we only know a part," Fendil said slowly, "The rest, perhaps some Soldiers from that war know, some might, from Pompeii City’s former leader, and some from the commanders of Rocky Ridges Fortress... I’m not sure if these scattered fragments can piece together a complete story, but if possible, if there is a chance in the future, I hope you can write this story down, write it into your Magic Shadow Drama.

"Consider it leaving a mark for the last Knight of the old era."