Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1035: Chapter 1034: A New Beginning

The cold starlight traversed endless distances, arriving here from the depths of the universe, casting a clear glow on the tattered hull of the Talronde Ship, as if plating the ancient spaceship with a layer of silver light.

At the massive rear of the spaceship, a severe breach split open the reactor compartment, prompting the damage control system to initiate and cut off the corresponding power conduit. The extinguished core was partially exposed to space, with some liquid escaping and boiling into steam in the vacuum, refracting the giant solar rays from the horizon, surprisingly displaying rainbow colors.

A faint glow flickered a few times in the engines before ultimately going out completely—this spaceship, built 1,870,000 years ago, used entirely different technology from today’s era. It not only possessed antigravity mechanisms but also relied on propellant engines to provide additional thrust during the ascent phase, a technique learned from the Voyagers. Now, the products built with these technologies were "dying" one by one.

"Our main engine is out, the attitude control engines have a little power left. I’m trying to slow the ship and maintain it in a high orbit—though we’ll drift away soon, but before that, we can enjoy the scenery here," Balogar said, vigorously patting the control seat before him, "Sigh, this thing is completely broken too... I can’t read anything from Reactor No. 3 here, but I suppose it’s not in good shape either."

"You said the main engine could hold for thirty minutes under your command," Heragor glanced at the chief mechanic, "Now it’s not even twenty minutes."

"That’s rhetoric, just a motivational speech," Balogar said nonchalantly, "Under such circumstances, it was already hard enough to make the engine complete the last bit of ascent—let alone this big guy has been soaking in the sea for over a million years."

"We all know it hasn’t aged a bit in over a million years," Heragor said casually, then noticed Andar silent in thought beside him and couldn’t help but be curious, "Andar, what are you thinking about?"

"Counting my heartbeats," Andar spoke in a low tone, "I haven’t been aware of my heartbeat for many years... It’s always been the blood pump and the circulatory machine maintaining the operation of this body. I almost forgot, there was still an original heart inside me... and it’s still beating today."

"I thought that heart of yours had been removed long ago," Heragor raised his eyebrows in surprise, "As a Black Dragon with a shorter lifespan, your original heart hasn’t necrosed by now?"

"I find it unbelievable too—very unbelievable," Andar murmured after a moment of silence, then suddenly frowned, "Do you smell something?"

"Did you just notice? It’s coming from the gas storage compartment," Balogar stood up from his seat, slowly floating in the weightless hall, "Our filtration system is down and some exhaust gas has entered the life-support duct. Don’t worry, these gases won’t end our lives for the time being—Dragon vitality is quite strong."

"Ah, truly ’good news’," Andar shook his head, "How much longer can we survive?"

"Hard to say, depends on how many leaks are in the ship’s hull and whether our reactors will explode prematurely," Balogar shrugged, "The control panel is broken, I can’t manage the ship’s status at all—but looking on the bright side, haven’t we survived a few more minutes now? This is the first time the Dragonkin have stepped into the stars on their own power, every second we spend here should be recorded in history."

The hall fell silent for a moment, and Heragor slowly floated to the polymer-made dome, gazing at the scene outside the ship. The vast, boundless starry sky captivated his attention—he suddenly felt a pang of regret, those stars seemed so distant, even though he had left the land, had come so far from home, yet the distance between him and those stars seemed not to have shortened at all... The Talronde Ship, like a paper boat folded by children, brimming with the ambitious dreams and great voyage plans of the young, was in fact just thrown into the small ditch at the door, barely floating a few meters before getting soaked, about to sink at any moment.

Yet despite that, this was the first step taken by mortals—like a baby attempting to walk for the first time, perhaps staggering just a little, perhaps falling the next moment, but regardless, he is here now, immersed in the starlight.

It seemed there was nothing to regret after all.

A gleam of light suddenly appeared at the edge of his vision, and Heragor looked up in surprise. He saw the edge of the planet slowly moving there—the ship had lost power and was slowly rolling due to inertia. During this rolling, it greeted a magnificent sunrise.

The giant sun rose from behind the planet, with an awe-inspiring corona slowly rising, and the beautifully marbled celestial body gradually squeezed into Heragor’s view, more spectacular and breathtaking than seen from the surface.

The entire control hall was bathed in glorious sunlight, and even though the light-blocking coating was still functioning, this splendid light was still somewhat piercing to the eyes of the three humanoid dragons. Andar and Balogar unconsciously moved to Heragor’s side, gathering in front of the polymer dome, gazing at this unprecedented sunrise, silent for a long time.

Here, not cramped at all.

...

Loren Continent, inside the Winterwolf Fort Command.

"No response from The Mithril Ring? Can’t reach the Mithril Vault?" Amber looked at Gawain in surprise and couldn’t help but murmur after confirming the situation, "That shouldn’t happen... The Mithril Ring has malfunctioned twice in such a short time... The Dragonkin’s technology is so advanced, they should at least be able to fix a communication system, right..."

"For hundreds of years, the Mithril Vault has never had such a situation," Gawain’s expression seemed more serious, "’Never Failing’ is the label of those Dragonkin..."

"Perhaps it’s just a malfunction that’s not yet fixed," Amber thought and said uncertainly. As someone who had once visited Talronde with Gawain, she knew the true state of the Dragon Kingdom better than others. In her view, the Mithril Vault, shrouded in mystery to the world, was not covered with much of a veil, "After all, all their stuff is ancient, and developed to a very large scale. Maybe that thing called ’Omega’ just had a little problem..."

Listening to Amber’s optimistic judgment, Gawain’s expression didn’t relax at all. He lowered his head, looking at the silent Mithril Ring in his hand, but couldn’t help but think of the last meeting with Dragon God Enya.

Unable to contact the Mithril Vault, unable to reach Melita Ponia... if this were at another time, it might just leave him puzzled, not considered a big matter. However, after the last trip to Talronde and the recently exploded God of War’s divine disaster, things couldn’t help but make Gawain think more. A vague sense of unease had already crept into his heart, even though it was baseless... yet once it emerged, it was hard to dispel.

The events occurred so coincidentally, and the upheaval of the gods was an event affecting the entire world. Enya and the entire dragon tribe seemed to always be focused on the divine changes in the human world. Now that the War God has fallen, Talronde almost simultaneously lost contact with the Loren Continent... What exactly happened in that distant dragon kingdom?

In contemplation, Gawain calmed his spirit. He concentrated, and an invisible connection formed in his mind—a vision of looking down on the earth from space entered his mind. The situation on the Loren Continent and its surrounding seas came into his view. He cautiously moved the view from the synchronous satellite, trying to "see" as far north of the Loren Continent as possible, hoping to observe something.

However, the perspective of the malfunctioning satellite was ultimately limited. After passing the Peninsula of the Sacred Dragon Kingdom, he could see nothing.

Regrettably, Gawain withdrew his spirit, preparing to exit the satellite view, but before the cognitive connection was cut, he suddenly noticed some vague flashes appearing on the northern edge of the mental image.

The flashes appeared for a brief moment. Then there were a few smaller flashes coming from the same direction. At first, Gawain thought it was lens flare caused by sunlight reflecting off the planetary cloud layers, but he quickly realized this was not a natural phenomenon—soon, the flashes ended, the surveillance images from the satellite calmed down, yet at the top edge of the image, some fine lines, seemingly affected by energy interference, lingered for a while, unable to dissipate...

A few minutes later, Gawain exited the satellite surveillance perspective.

He still could not see beyond the field of vision, but now he was almost certain—something significant must have happened in Talronde!

Amber had already noticed Gawain suddenly spacing out. She wasn’t surprised by it. Realizing that the other party was once again "daydreaming," she very consciously took up the role of a guard, staying beside him for a long time. Only when she noticed changes in his breathing and subtle movements did she quickly lean over and ask, "Hey, did you discover something?"

Gawain had many secrets, and this occasional bizarre "spacing out" was one of them. Amber was really curious about it, but she never questioned the reasons—she only knew one thing: whenever he zoned out like this, he seemed to gain some "insight" from some mysterious channel... and he occasionally enjoyed sharing the contents of those insights.

"Something must be up in Talronde. I have a... feeling," Gawain couldn’t explain his satellite perspective to others, so he glossed over it with vague words. "But it seems like it won’t affect us here..."

As he spoke, he raised his head, and the tense and busy scene of the frontline command post entered his view.

Officers and civilian staff were frantically dealing with intelligence from the battlefield, and all communication systems and deployment units were operating at full capacity. Outside, medical troops that just came in from the rear were gathering. Meanwhile, the wounded soldiers and the remains of the fallen from the frontlines were passing through the wide avenues on both sides of the castle—Talronde was too far, yet the mess left behind by this divine disaster was right before their eyes.

Footsteps approached, and Gawain looked toward the source, seeing the blonde-haired Soldrin walking towards them. This High-Ranked Ranger saluted him, with a solemn expression on his face: "We’ve just received new contact from Winterhold—Typhon wishes to enter official ceasefire negotiations with us."

"We’re finally returning to the negotiation table," Gawain breathed a light sigh of relief. "So, did the Typhon mention where and when they hope to conduct this negotiation?"

"Regarding the time, they just mentioned they want it as soon as possible, as for the location..." Soldrin hesitated slightly before continuing, "They hope to hold it at Winterhold Castle."

"Ah, the symbol of peace between the two countries... though mentioning it now feels a bit ironic," Gawain’s expression was somewhat complex upon hearing this place name, then he smiled, "But if we consider the current facts on the ground, Winterwolf Fort is already in the hands of the Cecil Clan, and Winterhold Castle, originally located in the buffer zone between Winterwolf Fort and Longwind Fortress, is now essentially a region completely controlled by the Cecil Clan... Don’t the Typhons mind this?"

Soldrin nodded: "They don’t mind, and they specifically emphasized this point—they are willing to negotiate in the Cecil Clan’s controlled area, to show their sincerity."

Gawain raised an eyebrow, revealing a hint of a smile: "Because they were the ones who ’provoked the war’ first... Well, even though they don’t mind negotiating within the Cecil’s control area, we still have to be a bit fair—bringing the envoys of a neighboring country into our military-controlled zone for such ’peace talks’ is a kind of hegemonic behavior. Regardless of the final outcome, from a historical perspective, the fairness and validity of this agreement may be questioned by future generations. We need to select a more suitable place—a neutral zone, or at least an area not involving territorial disputes between both sides, for more comprehensive security. Do you have any suggestions?"

Gawain’s gaze landed on Amber and Soldrin—not because he was impulsively asking them, but rather because it was just appropriate: Soldrin was the commander of the Steel Cavalry, and also a High-Ranked Ranger who has been active for seven centuries in both Old Anzu and Typhon. He had witnessed many changes on this land firsthand, and despite being of another race, he knew this land better than many humans. Moreover, he was a thoughtful and experienced person, making him well-suited to serve as an advisor at this moment. As for Amber...

At least, as the head of the intelligence bureau, she’s reliable in official matters... probably.

The elf and half-elf simultaneously fell into contemplation: the ceasefire agreement between the two human empires was undoubtedly a major event, particularly when the truth behind this "war" was a divine disaster. This matter now held a symbolic significance and historical value beyond the ordinary, so it must be treated with utmost seriousness.

They began to rapidly organize their memories, hoping to find a suitable location. In their contemplation, Amber was the first to suggest: "Why not set up a new camp right in the middle of the battlefield? Signing an agreement on the battlefield could make it seem more substantial."

"I have also considered this, but aside from symbolic significance, we must consider practical circumstances—the Winterhold defense line has been shattered, and the entire area is still very dangerous. The magical waste energy on the battlefield and the remains left by the War God will take a long time to clear, making the environment unsuitable for negotiations. Moreover, the main battlefield this time was closer to the Typhon side, which is also an issue."

"Then why not leave the land altogether?" Amber mused further. "The Winter is yet to return. We could have negotiations on the ship—Cecil and Typhon have no territorial issues in the ocean."

Gawain was somewhat surprised by the half-elf’s ideas, but after a brief reflection, he still shook his head: "A warship floating on the ocean is considered national territory, inviting the Typhon on board for negotiations is essentially no different from negotiating in the Cecil control zone—and moreover, the ship has many technical confidentiality needs that are not suitable for Typhon to access at this time."

Both of Amber’s suggestions were rejected, and she began to puff her cheeks and think harder, but before she could speak again, Soldrin seemed to have an idea.

"I do have a suggestion," the High-Ranked Ranger looked at Gawain, "Do you remember? There’s an elf outpost on the border of the wasteland..."