Chapter 1017: Chapter 1016: The Approaching God

The snow grains lifted by the wind drifted past the arched windows inlaid with crystal glass, ice crystals pattered against the panes with fine, brittle sounds, and the thick walls and Magic circulation fields blocked the cold from outside the castle, keeping the room at a warm temperature.

A bright fireplace was burning not far away, the light of the flames cast upon several brass ornaments, reflecting hazy, flickering shadows, and the warm firelight made the dust‑covered High-Ranked Ranger relax inwardly—this cold winter suddenly seemed not quite so cold.

"Tell me about the situation over in Bitter Winter Castle," Gawain walked into the room, casually unfastened his cloak and hung it on a nearby hook, "how many people do we still have operating over there now?"

"The main detachments of the Steel Cavalry have already withdrawn back to our controlled zone. At present there are still three reconnaissance squads and two mobile teams carrying out missions in the area between Bitter Winter Castle and the Frost Forest," Soldrin nodded as he spoke, "in addition, due to the changing situation in several major towns, the gods’ pollution is beginning to spread beyond the army. The Intelligence Agency agents who had been lurking in the urban districts have already withdrawn from the danger zones in batches; only a few well‑protected liaison stations are still functioning at a relatively low level."

"Mm..." Gawain nodded slightly, "preemptive evacuation is good. The situation is about to change drastically—the stalemate phase is coming to an end; what follows is the moment of reckoning."

"I was still a little surprised when I first received the withdrawal order—the situation has shifted faster than I expected," Soldrin said, "it seems the deterioration of the War God is progressing rapidly, and those in Aldernon can’t wait any longer... this also matches some of the phenomena I observed before I pulled out."

"Some phenomena?" Gawain immediately grew serious, "what kind of phenomena?"

Soldrin took a moment to organize his wording, then began reporting what he had scouted while operating in the Winterhold Area: "By the time I withdrew, very obvious divine‑disaster anomalies had already begun appearing on Typhon Empire’s land. Ordinary people were starting to hear and see certain ’messages’ related to the gods, and those sealed War God Churches were also frequently emitting strange noises. In addition, someone sighted a gigantic phantom appearing in the sky in the direction of Bitter Winter Castle. In some of the clearer eyewitness reports, that phantom was described as an iron‑gray giant, its whole body clad in heavy armor."

"...The classic image of the War God in most religious canons," Gawain said in a low voice, "an armored giant, marching amidst storms and clouds, overlooking the land..."

He then immediately asked, "Did these phenomena appear after that aerial battle?"

Soldrin thought for a moment: "If you mean those ordinary auditory and visual hallucinations, then they had already been occurring occasionally even before the aerial battle. The locals believed them to be magical phenomena produced when large numbers of combat Mage gathered together. If you’re referring to that giant... then yes, that did indeed appear only after the aerial battle a few days ago."

Gawain exhaled softly. The intelligence Soldrin had brought further confirmed his conjecture about the "descent of the War God."

Just as this thought surfaced in his mind, the Soldrin standing opposite suddenly spoke again: "If my analysis is not mistaken... all these phenomena indicate that the War God’s activity is growing stronger, and that He is already very ’close’ to our world. Given that you yourself have even come here in person... could it be that the War God is going to descend?"

Gawain’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He sized Soldrin up and down, but before he could speak, the latter revealed a faint smile: "I am no expert in theology, nor do I possess your level of grand‑scale situational deduction, but over these several centuries I’ve accumulated my share of miscellaneous knowledge. The phenomena I’ve observed while operating in the Winterhold Area recently were enough to lead me to certain associations... I just hadn’t expected that the situation would really develop to this point."

"Rosetta seems intent on doing something big," Gawain let out a long breath, "even I have to admit, he is quite a terrifying fellow... yet also a man of exceptional judgment and decisiveness."

"In my eyes, both of you are the sort of rather ’terrifying’ people," Soldrin laughed, a hint of emotion in his tone, "sometimes I can’t help but think back to when I first met you over seven hundred years ago... back then, you were an even more headstrong person, fearsome on the battlefield, yet in my view, you were actually more reassuring then than you are now."

"After all, back then I only had to answer for a single army; the burden of the nation rested on Charlie the First’s shoulders," Gawain said offhandedly. No sooner had the words left his mouth than a familiar mental fluctuation suddenly appeared deep within his consciousness, cutting off what he had been about to say next.

He waved a hand to the Soldrin before him, signaling the other to wait a moment, then rapidly focused his mind, immersing his consciousness into the neural network—moments later, he concluded this unexpected communication. Once he sensed Gawain "return to reality," Soldrin immediately asked, "What’s happened?"

"Unit Twenty‑Five just sent word," Gawain said gravely, his tone heavy, "Emperor Rosetta Augustus left Aldernon yesterday, and Duke Ferdinand Wendell departed with him."

Upon hearing this intelligence, Soldrin’s expression instantly grew solemn as well: at this particular moment, in the midst of such a shifting situation, Emperor Rosetta Augustus himself suddenly departed his imperial capital—there was likely only one message to be read from this...

"Looks like it’s about to begin." After a few seconds of silence, Gawain finally spoke slowly in a low voice.

...

The dizziness of the mental connection quickly faded, and Daniel, seated in his chair, opened his eyes.

The fireplace beside him was burning, the warm flames dancing merrily in the hearth. The Magic crystal lamps illuminated the spacious sitting room, two Magic brooms were automatically sweeping dust from the corner of the staircase, and the old Mage sat in a comfortable chair near the fireplace, a warm blanket draped over his lower body. An open Magic book lay upon his lap, the pages of magic symbols glimmering with a gentle luster—altogether, he looked as though he had merely taken a brief nap.

The young female Mage sitting on the chair beside him and reading noticed the subtle movement of her mentor and immediately raised her head, concern on her face: "Has the message been sent?"

"Mm," Daniel gave a simple nod, "no problems?"

"None. The sensing magic symbol set up throughout the house didn’t react," Mary said at once, "no one is prying into things on this side."

"Good," Daniel nodded, "right now the situation in Aldernon appears very calm on the surface, but in the shadows the Obsidian Imperial Guard and Royal Secret Agent are so tense their nerves are about to snap. So even a few minutes of communication must be conducted with the utmost caution... you haven’t been using the neural network these past few days, have you?"

"No." Mary shook her head at once. "I’ve always been very careful."

Daniel gave a soft "mm," then his gaze fell on Mary and stayed there for a long time without moving. Under that gaze, the black‑haired female Mage finally twisted her neck a little awkwardly, and with a trace of tension asked, "Mentor... did I do something wrong again?"

The fear was gone from her tone; there was only the nervousness a Mage apprentice feels when facing her mentor.

"If you want to go back to the countryside, I can arrange it," Daniel said, his face expressionless. "With your current ability and qualifications, I can have you made an administrator of some local Mage association. Even if you don’t want to take on a post, you can still live a very good life there and be respected by many people."

"Why are you suddenly saying this?" Mary’s eyes widened at once. "Is it because I messed something up in the laboratory recently..."

"I’ve simply realized lately that what I’m doing is getting more and more dangerous, and your brain is probably not suited to this kind of work at all," Daniel said coolly. "When something happens I still have to spare attention to tell you what to do."

Mary was stunned for a few seconds, as if she needed that time to figure out his true intent, and then to summon enough courage once she understood it—she finally sorted out her thoughts and, mustering her nerve, broke the silence: "Mentor, I can take care of myself, and I don’t want to go back to any countryside... I feel that I’m quite fine here..."

Her tone still weakened in the end, and the courage she had gathered in those few seconds was only enough for her to say these few dozen words before this stern mentor of hers. But Daniel showed a slightly surprised expression because of it. He looked his not‑very‑promising Mage apprentice up and down for a moment, and recalled what had happened a year ago when he went to the countryside to find her parents.

After a moment, he withdrew his gaze and gave a cold snort. "Have it your way, then. An opportunity like this will not come again."

...

The Magic Train glided along the rails smoothly and swiftly, the scenery outside the window racing backwards—amid the vast white of snow lay fields, reaped and now buried under the snow, and one quiet village after another.

"We still have a while before we reach the eastern checkpoint of Bitter Winter Castle, Your Majesty," Duke Ferdinand looked at the Typhon Emperor sitting on the seat opposite him. "Do you wish to go and rest for a bit?"

"No need," Emperor Rosetta Augustus said casually, his gaze sweeping over the landscape outside the window. "...The Magic Train is indeed a fine thing—so are the magic machineries."

"Indeed it is," Duke Ferdinand said. "Which is why, no matter what cost we must invest, we have to find a way to build them ourselves."

Emperor Rosetta Augustus gave a quiet "mm." His gaze seemed to be drawn to the fields outside the window; he stared at them for a long time before breaking the silence again. "Ferdinand, do you still remember our last hunt in the year 716?"

Duke Ferdinand thought back for a moment. "You mean that winter hunt? Of course I remember, very clearly... That was the year before your coronation. It was a very cold winter as well. We caught several deer in the hunting grounds north of Talenkis... That was also the last royal winter hunt. The year after, you were crowned and temporarily cancelled the winter hunt for that year. In the third year, you formally announced a complete end to the royal winter hunt; that centuries‑old royal tradition thus came to an end."

"Yes... Then do you remember what happened during that winter hunt?" Emperor Rosetta Augustus spoke as he glanced at Ferdinand. "Don’t tell me all you remember are those deer."

"Of course I remember what happened," Duke Ferdinand said, recalling very seriously. "A hunter broke into the forbidden hunting forest on a day of winter closed season, wanting to secretly shoot a rabbit... His pregnant wife was ill and needed some meat to nourish her body. But the Soldiers patrolling around the hunting grounds discovered him. With no trial and no report, the Soldiers simply shot that hunter down with arrows... just as they would shoot the animals in the hunting grounds."

"Yes, just like hunting animals," Emperor Rosetta Augustus said calmly. "At that time, many people considered this entirely as it should be."

"Even up until a few years ago, there were still people who thought it was entirely as it should be—things only began to gradually change in the past two or three years. Among the literate commoners there have appeared more and more scholars, capable merchants, and magic‑symbol artisans. Commoners have even begun to enter offices and councils at all levels. After the systems concerning nutrition, education, and newborn pre‑selection matured and got on track, the number of Transcendent awakenings among the commoner class also started to increase. Now the ratio of Transcendent awakenings between aristocratic and commoner classes is almost identical. After that, the nobles finally had no choice but to admit that commoners have the same capacity for thought, learning, and growth as they do—or, to put it more bluntly... to admit that commoners and they themselves are of the same species."

Emperor Rosetta Augustus listened to Ferdinand’s account, all emotional fluctuation hidden behind his calm and slightly grim features. Only after more than ten seconds of quiet did he look in the direction of Bitter Winter Castle and softly break the silence. "Yes... It took us nearly twenty years to barely accomplish all this..."

"To spend over a decade just to get a portion of people to recognize a fact that is obvious and in line with the natural order—this is, in truth, somewhat ironic," Duke Ferdinand sighed. "And what’s more ironic is that even you and I were not clearly aware of these things from the very beginning..."

Emperor Rosetta Augustus did not respond again. He only gazed out the window in apparent distraction, looking toward Bitter Winter Castle. At the end of the snow‑covered fields on either side of the train lay the undulating mountains of the Winterhold defensive line, and Emperor Rosetta Augustus’s eyes were fixed on the boundless sky between those mountains and the clouds.

In one of his eyes faint starlight rippled, as though another eye were set deep within his pupil, and he could clearly see the anomaly hidden in that high sky—

A giant, his entire body covered in iron‑grey armor, was standing amidst the clouds, looking down upon this tiny and fragile mortal world with a hollow, icy gaze. Upon his back he bore a banner and a colossal sword, and in his hand he held a war bow as tall as a bell tower.

That was God. He stood beneath the clear winter sky as though reigning over a hunting ground that belonged to Him alone. Before that towering body, mighty cities and stretching countryside alike seemed nothing more than hunting‑ground decorations strung with colored flags. Beneath God’s war bow, all mortals in this world—be they kings or commoners, heroes or menials—seemed like animals awaiting slaughter.

The wheels turned, the train howled, and between the Repulsion mechanisms and the relay pylons, gusts of wind laden with grains of snow were whipped up. The Magic Train gradually accelerated, driving straight toward the horizon, toward that lofty God who was about to fully step into this world.

And as this Magic Train sped toward the border, on the dozen‑plus routes leading from the heartland of Typhon Empire to Bitter Winter Castle—between wilderness and valley, between rivers and plains—dozens of pioneering knights and Combat Mage Regiment, and hundreds of thousands of Transcendent Soldiers, were moving toward the war zone.

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