Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 464 - 463: The Civil War Maelstrom

Cathedral of the Holy Light, Great Hall of Radiance.

Veronica quietly reported to Pope Saint Ivan III about the recent changes in the southern situation: "... After capturing the rocky ridges Fortress, Gawain Cecil sealed off the entire southern borders and declared the establishment of the Cecil Principality—or rather, the re-establishment of the Cecil Principality.

"Currently, only licensed caravans can enter and exit the southern borders, and they can only stay near the rocky ridges Fortress—for trade, the Cecil Clan has established a new town south of the rocky ridges Fortress called ’rocky ridges Town.’

"No matter whether merchants or messengers sent by the aristocracy, none can go beyond rocky ridges Town, so the situation in the hinterland of the southern borders is completely unclear. Only sparse information has emerged, indicating that Duke Gawain Cecil has begun to consolidate the southern borders, eliminating the influence of southern aristocrats from the past hundred years, implementing numerous new policies to ensure governance."

Saint Ivan III listened quietly, and at the end, he sighed softly: "It seems this ancient hero has a strong desire for control..."

He then paused, asking casually, "Leimont’s body is still in Cecil hands, correct?"

"... The rocky ridges Fortress has not responded to the church’s demands. Bishop Leimont’s body is still in the southern borders, and it is said to have been cremated."

"Purifying the body with flame... It is fortunate, at least the Cecil Clan hasn’t desecrated Bishop Leimont’s remains. If only they would return the Holy ashes to us," the old pope sighed softly, "then at least we could confirm Bishop Leimont’s true cause of death."

A district bishop died in the ’noble war’ of the southern borders, causing a considerable stir when the news first reached the Cathedral of the Holy Light, but in that war, the church, supposedly neutral, sided with the southern aristocrats for dubious reasons and actively invaded Cecil territory—an indisputable fact. Coupled with the Cecil Clan completing the factual governance of the southern borders in a short period, the church had neither reason nor opportunity to control the situation—by the time they had freed themselves from expanding diocese and combating heresies, Cecil’s army had already pushed into the rocky ridges Fortress.

Afterward, the church also sent envoys to make contact with the southern borders, but the envoys were blocked outside the gates of the rocky ridges Fortress. They only received a letter from Duke Gawain Cecil, expressing disappointment over the actions of the church of Holy Light in the southern region and conveying a shocking message:

Although Bishop Leimont died in the course of the noble war, he was not killed by Cecil people but was ambushed by Eternal Sleepers.

The content of this letter was known only to a few within the church, and the pope and Veronica were among them.

"The situation in the Southern Diocese is not any better than in the eastern regions. Although Duke Gawain has not publicly expelled our priests, according to sporadic information, he has sealed off Lu’an City and forbidden all priests of Holy Light from moving or preaching in the southern borders—the reason being the need to investigate the southern aristocrats’ corrupt infiltration of the church and maintain post-war security," Veronica Moen said, "He is essentially using post-war control to keep the entire Southern Church under soft detention."

"... The southern and eastern borders have always been troublesome places, and now they are just even more so," the old pope remarked indifferently, "The royal family’s primary focus is now on the eastern rebel forces. We wish to leverage their strength, so we must also focus on the eastern regions... Veronica, you have had contact with that ancient duke, what do you think his attitude towards the church might be?"

Veronica lowered her eyelids: "... He is indeed a man without faith, or rather, the power of ’faith’ is just a tool for him. I only had a brief encounter with him, and that was a year ago, but based on his actions this past year, I can speculate his thoughts: He actually does not care about ’God,’ neither reverence nor resistance, but adheres to pragmatism. I once researched his new policies and found a pattern: All his systems primarily consider practicality, secondary to cost and efficiency, and lastly to legal morality, which reveals his way of doing things."

"Arrogant, yet justifiably so," Saint Ivan III closed his eyes, "but his indifference is better than Edmund Moen’s hostility. Since he regards faith as a tool... it indicates he at least wouldn’t reject this tool."

Veronica’s eyebrows raised slightly: "Your Eminence, are you suggesting..."

"Let’s wait and see what he plans to do next with Lu’an City. If the situation remains unchanged, we will ignore it for now; if it deteriorates... Veronica, prepare yourself for negotiations with the southern ruler."

Veronica bowed her head deeply: "I will follow your commands."

"Go down now, I am a bit tired," Saint Ivan III said with closed eyes, his previously effortful upright posture gradually slumping. His voice was ethereal, as if a part of his mind had wandered to the realm of the Holy Light, "I want to take a nap... to listen to the voice of the Lord."

Veronica leaned down and whispered softly in the old pope’s ear: "Indeed, the Lord is with you."

Saint Ivan III emitted a steady, gentle breathing sound, and on his face, a trace of satisfied and serene smile gradually spread.

Veronica descended the platform where the papal throne was located and waved her hand casually, casting a layer of misty Holy Light that enveloped the entire platform, protecting the pope within it and insulating him from the sea of Holy Light swirling in the Great Hall of Radiance.

...

The night sky gradually descended, and beneath the starlit heavens, the royal capital was shrouded in a blanket of tranquility.

St. Soniel, 4 Crown Street, Agent Giply of the Intelligence Agency quietly stood on the balcony of the mansion, gazing out at the richly adorned yet decaying architectural cluster.

At 4 Crown Street, part of the architecture had become purely historical relics, yet many aristocratic descendants still resided in the rest of the ancient mansions they inherited from their ancestors. From morning till night, numerous ornate carriages would come and go on this grand street, and whenever a large number of carriages gathered in one area, the opulent mansions would light up, with music from the seven-stringed lyres and tambourines continuing until the next morning, only for those carriages to then take their drunken owners away, back to their estates and castles inside or outside the city.

Even as the country was mired in civil war, as soldiers died daily on the eastern front lines of the Plains of the Holy Spirits, and as war-displaced refugees were nearing the Gigantic Tree Path Entrance, the country’s nobility showed no sign of reducing their feasting frequency and scale.

Giply was already fed up with these sights.

Fortunately, today was a rare quiet day: no banquets were holding in the recent mansions, allegedly because Earl Balin had held a larger feast in the southern part of the city, and half of the nobles of Crown Street had received invitations. Their departure granted Giply a chance to enjoy the night.

The sound of carriage wheels rolling over cobblestone streets echoed through this silent night.

Giply withdrew her gaze, observing a carriage adorned with magic crystal lamps halt in front of the mansion’s entrance, then quickly departed the balcony to return to the study.

Moments later, Pierce, tall and lean, clad in knight’s casual attire, appeared before her.

"Traveling at night is becoming increasingly difficult," Pierce remarked as he removed his coat, "The aristocrats’ banquets are becoming more frequent, while curfews in the craftsmen and merchants’ districts are getting stricter. If not for the Duke’s emblem on the carriage, I might not have made it back tonight."

"There’s no surprise in that, given the rumors circulating in the city," Giply nodded, "The situation to the east of the Plains is unsettling."

Pierce chuckled lightly, his gaze swept over the room before discreetly moving to the window. He shut it securely and activated the magic symbol beneath the window sill.

A small soundproof barrier enveloped the entire room.

"Headquarters has issued an order," remarked the agent from the Intelligence Agency succinctly, "We’re preparing to evacuate."

"Evacuate?" Giply’s eyes widened, "Has the situation deteriorated?"

"The Duke has captured the rocky ridges Fortress, and the southern borders have now become the Cecil Principality. Anzu’s royal family will soon respond to this—whatever the response, our activities in the royal capital will garner more attention," Pierce explained rapidly, "We’ve been operating publicly for a long time here, and you’ve had multiple contacts with the Mage community. It’s no longer suitable for us to remain stationed here."

Giply couldn’t help but furrow her brows slightly: "Then what about this stronghold?"

"A new work group will replace us—they’ll remain hidden in the shadows," Pierce clarified, "The leader still requires intelligence from the royal capital; however, we, who can no longer conceal or disguise ourselves, have to evacuate ahead of time."

Giply paused momentarily, then sighed with a touch of sentiment: "Is that so... it certainly seems we must leave."

"It’s also a good thing—it’s said development back home is swift, and headquarters’ newcomers are far advanced in both skills and equipment compared to us during our term. Returning is an opportunity to catch up; otherwise... we might directly fall behind those rookies," Pierce spoke with a smile, glancing at Giply, "By the way... are you particularly attached to this place?"

"Attached? There’s no attachment for me here," Giply replied with a hint of sarcasm on her lips, "Compared to the foul streets here, the breeze by the White River is much fresher."

...

The night breeze by the White River is indeed refreshing. Since a long time ago, Gawain often came to the high platform by the riverbank, enjoying the cool wind while gazing at the riverside scenery, contemplating the future, reminiscing the past, or simply appreciating the view without thoughts.

The scenery here is constantly changing.

When he had first arrived, the banks of the White River were but barren stretches, with eight hundred refugees erecting modest tents on the desolate ground. The guardians of the camp used fire pans and makeshift fences to secure this land, and at the time, people had to promptly return to camp after sunset, as ravenous beasts lurked in the dense forests and barren mountains beyond. People could only anxiously endure the nights in their tents...

Then, tents transformed into wooden houses, wooden houses evolved into brick houses, fences turned into city walls, sentinel towers erected upon the walls, the wooden bridge over the White River was replaced by a gigantic repulsion mechanism-driven mechanical bridge, temporary wooden docks turned into concrete permanent ones, and even the desolate northern banks of the White River became bustling "North City New District"...

After nightfall, the glow of magic crystal lamps illuminates both sides of the river, resembling the brilliant cluster of stars scattered across the land.

All this occurred within less than two years.

As the creator of all this, Gawain felt the greatest sense of achievement from these transformations.

He knew that the rapid pace of the city’s development was a miracle, even remarkable on planet Earth, and the Cecil Clan’s achievement of near-miraculous feats was due not only to the explosive release of productive power but also to the advancement of magic technology.

"Magic technology..." Gawain murmured softly, raising his hand under the starlight and lamp light of the riverbanks, where a vague radiance formed in his palm.

This wasn’t any knight’s combat skill or spell, but merely a luminescent phenomenon triggered by the ambient magic power, constantly reminding Gawain: Magic Power is ubiquitous.

"Ubiquitous, seemingly endless energy..."

As he waved away the gathered Magic Power, Gawain couldn’t help but furrow his brow slightly.

From not far away, the sound of water suddenly interrupted Gawain’s contemplation. Looking up, he saw a splash on the river surface, from which Tiel’s head emerged.

"Yo—Leader, taking a break too?"

(Book Recommendation Time! I’ve recommended this book long ago, "Forty-Six Billion Evolutions" by Phase Walker, a sci-fi story that is still ongoing. It narrates the evolution from single-celled organisms, and even now it’s a novel and challenging concept. The book has been serialized for many years and continues to update. For those who can embrace the idea where not even the protagonist or supporting characters are human, it offers a highly intriguing narrative. Whether you face book shortage or not, this story’s fanciful imagination will surely satisfy you.)