Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 578 - 577: Heading to the Wasteland

After sending off the Vice Commander of the Order of Knights, the spacious reception room fell into silence.

Gawain sat in his seat lost in brief contemplation, while Amber’s figure gradually appeared from the air. This half-elf glanced at Gawain curiously, "A letter from that Wales Moen? What did it say?"

Gawain raised his eyelid, "You really didn’t peek earlier?"

Amber put her hands on her hips, retorting confidently, "Of course not, how could I do something as unethical as reading someone else’s letter?"

This girl, who spent her days sneaking around and causing trouble, surprisingly had a moral compass in the most unexpected situations?

Gawain shook his head, "Better if you don’t know for now."

"Hmph, if you don’t want to say, don’t say it," Amber pouted as her figure gradually faded from the air, "I’ll go keep an eye on those envoys, you continue being in a daze."

With Amber’s presence gradually dissipating from the room, Gawain let out a soft sigh, "In the end, the one who saw through this mire was him..."

The envoy from the royal capital didn’t stay long in Cecil Castle.

After all, the symbolic significance of these envoys being here was greater than their practical significance—the Elven Messenger had already completed the transmission of all information, and Gawain himself had been the first to advocate vigilance against the wasteland and fortifying the borders. Regarding the repair and reinforcement of the great walls, as long as the Northern Territories were prepared with materials, there was nothing here in Gawain’s domain that required negotiation or discussion. Sending a batch of envoys from St. Soniel was more of a formality.

On the afternoon of the next day, after all letters and pending matters were handed over, the delegation led by Cohen Loland once again boarded the inland express passenger ship "Wavewalker" and left Cecil Castle.

Coming in a hurry, going in a hurry.

And the first batch of goods jointly promised and prepared by St. Soniel and the Duke of the East arrived at the White River pier on schedule on the 30th of the month of harvest.

Six large-scale inland cargo ships, loaded with textiles, metals, oils, and various magic-conducting materials. The warehouses filled with these cargoes made one marvel that the noble class of Anzu had finally been generous for once—to make the stingy aristocracy bring out these things they had pressed at the bottom of the box, Victoria and Edmund probably used quite some means.

On the unloading dock of the pier, Amber watched those packed boxes of magic-conducting materials being stacked on the ground, more and more piling up like a mountain, she was so excited: "Gosh...how much is this worth..."

"All of this is to be used for the barrier restoration project," Gawain glanced at the wide-eyed Amber, "Not even a single brick is to be touched."

Amber seemingly in disbelief looked Gawain up and down, full of wonder in her voice: "Are you really going to use it all on the project? Not planning to keep some for yourself? So much! And no one would dare to supervise you, even if you kept some, no one would know—aren’t you always saying the territory needs development and resources are insufficient?"

"I don’t need to claim every benefit," Gawain pressed down on Amber’s hair, "Cutting corners on the great walls would be digging my own grave."

After finishing this sentence, Gawain walked away, leaving Amber hearing Rebecca next to her mutter to herself, "The ancestor’s words are so reasonable..."

Amber glanced at Rebecca, "Whatever your ancestor says, you find it reasonable."

Rebecca looked serious, "No, when the ancestor talks about things related to graves, he seems especially reasonable."

Amber gave Rebecca a respectful look up and down, "...No wonder you get beaten every now and then."

Meanwhile, Gawain found Aunt Heidi and others waiting for him at the edge of the dock.

"After this batch of materials arrives, I will set out for the wasteland," Gawain said to Aunt Heidi, "The internal affairs of the Duchy will be left to you and the Administrative Office to manage, the military to Byron and Sir Philip, and each of the other departments has its own person in charge and emergency plan, just follow the development plan we previously established."

"Do you really have to go personally?" Aunt Heidi bit her lip, eventually unable to resist saying, "This really isn’t necessary..."

"No one understands the wasteland better than I do, and I also want to personally verify the situation of the great walls and the wasteland," Gawain interrupted Aunt Heidi, looking at her with a smile, "What, no confidence? Worried you can’t manage all this?"

If anyone else had asked the same question, the best response unquestionably would be denial, and Aunt Heidi would respond to any doubts about her abilities with her usual maturity and composure.

But the person in front of her was her ancestor, the pillar of the Cecil Clan, the one who supported and guided this land from eight hundred refugees and a tent all the way to today. In front of him, her pride and stubbornness could be seen through at a glance.

"...Indeed, there’s a bit of worry." Aunt Heidi nodded lightly.

"You can handle it," Gawain patted Aunt Heidi’s shoulder, "During the Cecil Clan’s most difficult times, it was you alone who supported the family to persist, and now, the operation of the entire Administrative Office is orderly under your management, you have more ability than you think."

Aunt Heidi wanted to say that the territory she helped Rebecca govern back then was merely a Viscount’s domain, whereas the current Cecil domain is an entire southern borders Duchy, a world of difference, but looking at Gawain’s smile-contained face, her heart quickly settled.

"I understand," she lowered her head, "I won’t let you down."

"Just don’t let the people down, it’s not easy for them to have a good life," Gawain nodded, "Don’t worry, I will set up Magic Web relay devices along the way, even at the edge of the wasteland, I will maintain communication with the territory here. Also, the road construction project by the Pathfinders has been more than halfway completed, we will have a convenient highway passing through the Black Forest, with modern vehicles and roads, you’ll soon find that the seemingly distant wasteland is actually not too far from you."

This day is the 30th of the month of harvest, fifteen days before the Harvest Festival.

After two days of preparation and personnel mobilization, the first batch of supplies sent to the south was loaded onto the advanced magic-powered transport vehicles, a large convoy—the technological crystallization of Cecil Magic Industry—passed through the fortress in the Dark Mountain Range and set off from Southgate Fortress, heading toward the Gondor wasteland.

Gawain personally led this team, and besides the accompanying magic combatants, Soldrin also led an elite Iron Cavalry squad as escorts. The team would soon catch up with the Pathfinders who had already ventured into the Black Forest, and meet up with the Pathfinder engineering team and the White Knight Guards. The supplies carried by the convoy would be used to build the final forward base at the Black Forest border, and further ahead...

is the wasteland border, the Rotting Plains.

...

"Open the gates!! Convoy passing through!!"

With the shout of the gate controller, the magic-conducting machinery emitted a deep rumble, as heavy gears and hinges slowly opened the equally heavy iron gates. Between the mountain rocks at the southern slope of the Dark Mountain Range, a rock wall covered with armor and turrets opened its heavily armed portal. One after another, large transport vehicles emerged, and alongside these vehicles were several multi-functional war vehicles, covered with lightweight armor plates and with heat-ray gun ports and magic crystals fixed on top, escorting them forward.

At the rear of the convoy, several magic cannons were seen being pulled along on tractor bases.

Accompanied by blaring horns and the roaring of engine machinery, the convoy traveled along the hardened road toward the Black Forest.

At the edge of the Black Forest, an exceptionally tall giantwood stood quietly amidst a twisted and decaying cluster of plants—trees bearing the name "giant" easily reaching nearly a hundred meters tall, with the crazed magic corruption in the Black Forest further enhancing the mutation of these towering giants. Its menacing crown stretched toward all directions, leafless and withered branches curving in the air. Against the murky sky, the crown resembled a shriveled mass of limbs, desperately reaching toward the heavens.

The convoy entered the Black Forest.

The branches of the giantwood rustled, creating a rustling sound, while a black mist suddenly gathered at the topmost branches. From within the mist, a gigantic, raven, its feathers smeared with decaying flesh and half of its skull exposed, emerged.

The raven’s dark eyes were fixed on the convoy, and from its decayed voice box, a hoarse human voice suddenly sounded: "Gawain Cecil has left his territory... He has personally gone to the great walls."

The raven then turned its head, seemingly listening to something invisible conversing with it, continuing to make sounds from its throat: "The North is more important, the North is more important... I know, I know. I will keep watching, though I will only watch from afar..."

The raven spoke, once again turning its ears to listen, appearing to hear something that made it angry, suddenly flapping its wings furiously: "You ask why I’m only watching from afar?! Do you know how dangerous those crazy Cecil people are! Do you know how terrifying those lunatics are!!

"Do you know how they build roads? Do you know how they ’explore’ the forest? Do you know how they traverse those traps and monster nests along the way!?

"Those lunatics, these Cecil people filled with only the impulse to destroy, they are undoubtedly the material world’s projection of demons, the offspring of devils and living volcanoes—listen, Doen was blown up, ’Putrescent Bol’ was blown up too, along with their eighteen plague beasts and six corrupted wild beasts, and Pador, damn it, Pador only wanted to get close to observe, but who would have thought that the Cecils bombarded the entire bush—I’ll only watch from afar, I want to stay as far away from those lunatics as possible! Even those Sons of the Storm whose brains have been ruined by deep-sea tides are more composed than those Cecil people!!

"If you have any objections, then send someone to replace me—I’d rather serve hard labor in the Flesh Abyss... Oh, damn it!!"

The raven’s continuous cursing suddenly halted, "it" stared in horror at the distant fortress external walls covered in iron, seeing several turrets on its upper levels all simultaneously turn toward its direction.

"Those lunatics might have discovered me!!"

The raven exclaimed, flapping its wings to fly away, and almost immediately, a continuous roar broke the dead silence of the Black Forest, shredding the chaotic sky and the mist within the forest.

Massive blasts of explosive smoke shrouded the corrupted woodlands far away. Inside Southgate Fortress’s fire control chamber, Grand Architect Gordon attentively watched the scene presented on the holographic display, observing the dust clouds rising, watching an expanse of woodland turn to ashes.

The power of the stationary fortress cannon indeed was astonishing.

The mechanical sergeant responsible for operating the turrets reported, "Main turrets on the upper defense wall activated successfully; upper level turret II requires calibration. Observation devices are operating well."

"Good, record the data, test the secondary guns at all levels in an hour. George, take two assistants, go check turret II’s specific situation."

Gordon arranged the work methodically and exhaled softly.

When initially beginning construction of Southgate Fortress, he had been nervous and anxious, this well-known dangerous area with its rotten grounds was terrifying, and the wide open, almost defenseless and uncovered fractured entrance was even more anxiety-provoking. Yet, as the construction proceeded, with the southern defense wall and turret installations in place, his initial nervousness and anxiety had completely dissipated.

Indeed, as the leader had said, although the Black Forest was dangerous, it was nothing in front of the power of Cecil Magic Industry.

"Again, another day without any incidents," commented one of the mechanical sergeants at a nearby control platform, coincidentally echoing Gordon’s thoughts, "Peaceful as a pond."

"Don’t relax your vigilance," another mechanical sergeant reminded, "There are still non-human monsters in the Black Forest, it’s possible that a completely crazed one might assault the fortress."

"Don’t worry, I won’t neglect."

The vigilance of the soldiers was indeed strong.

Gordon couldn’t help but admire, yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but think—

The non-human monsters in the Black Forest... seem to be getting fewer and fewer...