Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 664 - 663: Things Remain, People Change

Duke of the East, White Sand Dune Region.

An engineering team arrived at this mining area with a train several days ago. The once-destroyed mining facilities are currently undergoing reconstruction. The White Sand Dunes are immersed in a bustling and orderly atmosphere, with lifting equipment, engineering vehicles, construction frameworks, and isolation nets everywhere. Among all the construction zones, one place is the most special:

The large-scale "Divine Meteor Crater" near White River.

The place where the Artificial God fell; the massive crater has been tightly monitored by the Cecil Legion. Several temporary sentinel towers and fortifications are surveilling the inside and outside of this large pit, and near the "bone remnants" at the bottom of the pit, a small research station has already been established.

The dreadful Artificial God at this moment retains only a fragmented skeleton. Twisted and mutated bone shards stand ominously on the ground, some partially buried in the rubble and soil at the pit bottom. A large amount of flesh remnants are scattered nearby, as if these blasphemous biological tissues still retain a hint of vitality, continuously emitting strong magical surges.

These incredible remnants are undoubtedly valuable research samples.

Accompanied by several mage apprentices and soldiers, Pittman slowly walks among the gigantic bone fragments. The old Druid has his hands behind his back, slightly hunched, his gaze sweeping over the disquieting remains. Metal frameworks support the precarious skeleton, and in the areas divided by these metal frameworks, some stakes in the ground are labeled with signs like "Sampled," "Not Sampled," "Cleaned."

Pittman stopped in his tracks, quietly observing the bone structure before him. Some remaining flesh gently writhes among those bones, making a certain nauseating subtle sound, occasionally spasming—as if this part of the biological tissue is still experiencing phantom aches from combat.

"These things still twitch," a soldier accompanying whispered, unable to hold back, "really a terrifying creation..."

"The tail of a Blue-tailed Marsh Lizard will still twitch and even bounce a week after being severed. Nature originally crafted these incredible life phenomena; it’s not odd in itself..." Pittman casually replied. "The reason this thing is scary is simply because it’s exceptionally large."

He then turned to his apprentice: "Collect samples from this location—this should be close to its neural center. Perhaps the samples here can tell us whether it truly has a ’neural center’ structure."

A few apprentices bravely approached the twitching and wriggling flesh, activating their various cutting tools—Melting Sword, cutting beams, and high-power saw blades—these powerful, reliable tools are the best companions of researchers. Amidst ear-piercing noises, sparks flew at the sampling site.

The flesh that appeared soft and the fragile bones are actually startlingly strong; without some ’professional tools,’ they simply can’t be cut.

A rustling crawling sound came from nearby. In the form of a water snake, Tiel wriggled her way to Pittman and the others. The sea demon lifted her head, watching the scene of the Druid apprentices collecting samples, slightly parting her lips, drool dripped everywhere.

Then she commented: "I’m telling you, this spot has the best texture, it’s one of the rare chewy parts of this pile of artificial meat, and it won’t get stuck in your teeth..."

The officer next to Pittman immediately showed a peculiar expression, somewhat helpless, saying, "Miss Tiel, wasn’t it said to refrain from eating at unsampled areas? Although the higher-ups agreed to let you eat here, at least don’t interfere with our research..."

Tiel immediately waved her hands: "It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. I only tasted a trivial little bit, definitely won’t affect your work, right Pittman?"

"As long as you don’t eat in front of us—that would damage the psychological health of my apprentices," Pittman glanced at the deep-sea salty fish and then turned back, continuing to quietly watch the massive bones and twitching, wriggling biological structures. "...It’s really hard to imagine how they created this..."

"We found the initial appearance location of this Giant Stag, and discovered large-scale rift valleys and caves in the western region of Sorinburg, leading deep underground. It seems there’s an ancient underground facility group there, this monster should have come to the surface from there," the accompanying officer said. "But the underground situation is too complex and dangerous, unable to explore further for the time being."

Pittman pondered for a moment, nodding slightly, "The Oblivion Association’s lair is indeed underground, but it’s more ancient and complex than the defied Fortress. Not exploring recklessly is right."

As someone who was once an Oblivion Association member, he actually knows the existence of this underground facility—but just knowing its existence.

The mysterious underground structure group is an ancient product, possibly as old as the defied Fortress, but no one knows its true origins and functions. Oblivion Association believers constructed complex "Vine Networks" inside it, to connect various areas, controlling pathways to the surface. Besides this, they set countless traps and secret doors in the ruins to resist potential invasions—all of which, like the magic keys to entering the ruins, frequently change.

The underground facility might have suffered severe damage after the Giant Stag went out of control, but undoubtedly many mechanisms and traps remain.

Pittman has long left the Oblivion Association, the information he has is long outdated, so he dares not lead people to explore there.

"Report the relevant information, these matters are not for us to decide."

The officer lowered his head: "Yes, Master Pittman."

...

Jenni slightly raised her head, the wide brim of her sunhat shielding her from the overly intense midday sunlight. The breeze blew by, lifting her white hair at her ears.

In the bright daylight, St. Soniel’s classical, majestic walls and towers gleamed in her sight. Fluttering flags danced atop the city walls, solemn soldiers stood at their posts, the streets rich in Anzu-style extended in the sunlight. Along the streets were ramshackle, varied houses, and the street buzzed with hurried pedestrians.

This city seemingly hasn’t changed much compared to when she left, yet it seems vastly different. A feeling of both familiarity and alienation surged in her heart, adding complexity to the gaze of this Cecil Clan’s chief Runemaster.

An accompanying officer approached Jenni, standing and saluting: "Master Jenni, do you want to proceed directly to Silver Castle to report?"

In the Cecil Clan, all senior technical researchers and Grand Artificers have the title of "Master", and Jenni was one of the first to receive this title.

"I want to go somewhere first," Jenni looked at the officer with the Knight’s Insignia, smiling gently, "You take the others to the castle first."

"Yes, Master—I will arrange your escort team right away."

Jenni was taken aback for a moment, then instinctively waved her hand: "Escort? There’s no need, I’m familiar with the situation here, I can go by myself..."

The officer showed a slightly troubled expression: "Master, this is an order from the higher-ups. This city has not yet lifted its special status, and your movements here require military protection..."

Jenni looked at the knight who had accompanied her all the way from the southern borders to the royal capital. Her naturally unassuming personality, which disliked bothering others, kept her from insisting on her own view. She nodded: "Then... I’ll trouble you, knight."

A few minutes later, two black Magic-guided Vehicles with the Cecil Clan’s insignia left the southern city of St. Soniel, traveling along Iron Cross Street, which had a history of several hundred years, heading toward the Mage District in the inner city.

Outside the car window, the old and mottled residential buildings receded continuously, the wheels rolling over the uneven stone-paved roads sending slight jolts, as if stirring Jenni’s restless thoughts. She leaned against the window, her gaze slowly sweeping over the familiar streets and buildings as the vehicle moved forward, sweeping over the people she vaguely remembered.

There were fewer pedestrians on the street than in her memory. They were still dressed in patched, drab-colored coarse linen clothing, walking quickly with numb expressions. Occasionally, someone would stop in a corner of the street, stretching their necks toward the Magic-guided Vehicles with their mouths agape for a couple of stunned glances, but quickly lowering their heads in reverence, as if not daring to make eye contact with these "magical beasts" made of steel.

The streets in the residential area were narrow, and even with not many pedestrians, congestion would occur. The vehicle’s mechanic would occasionally honk the horn, and many pedestrians would hunch their shoulders and bow—bowing to the noisy steel machine, so much so that some even forgot they should make way, forcing the Soldier to lean out of the vehicle window and loudly remind passersby to avoid the vehicle.

To prevent injuring pedestrians, the vehicle moved slowly. Some children curiously approached the Magic-guided Vehicle, pointing and talking at the roadside, but were quickly slapped by adults and dragged home by their ears.

"Although we’ve been in the city for half a month, people still find these new things unsettling," said a female Magic Combatant sitting next to Jenni, with a touch of awkwardness. She was one of the soldiers who came north with the First Legion and took over St. Soniel. At this moment, she was assigned to Jenni’s escort, both to protect Jenni and serve as a guide to other Soldiers. "Things are much better now... on the first day, there were even civilians kneeling in front of the Magic-guided Vehicle, performing the benediction."

Jenni sighed softly: "This needs to change... We’ve all been through that period."

"Yes, we’ve all been through it—when the first Magic-guided Water Pump was installed in the village, my father even forbade us from approaching the fields out of fear that it would eat people. But after just a year, he wanted to pool money with the neighbors to buy a thresher, as the farming equipment at the management station was never enough, the queues were always long, and the harvest this year was so big that it seemed impossible to manage by hand," the Soldier smiled, looking at Jenni with great respect, "All thanks to Masters like you."

Jenni, being innately introverted and often absorbed in her laboratory, was not skilled at handling such direct praise and tributes. She could only lower her head and reply softly: "Thank you... but there are many better than me."

As they spoke, they had already passed through the outer city’s residential area and entered the more affluent and prosperous part of the inner city.

The narrow streets suddenly became wider, and the houses appeared neater and taller. Along the road, citizens dressed appropriately and walking with heads held high began to appear. At the end of this street, some tall spires and gleaming magic symbols floating overhead had already come into Jenni’s view.

She took a gentle breath.

St. Soniel’s Mage District had arrived.

The two vehicles traversed the streets of the wealthy area, heading straight into the Mage District, where the entire region was already under the control of the Cecil Legion. The Magic-guided Vehicles, with military markings, encountered no obstacles within the Mage District.

Under Jenni’s guidance, the vehicle eventually stopped in front of a Mage tower, with a light purple spire and gray-white walls, approximately four to five stories high.

This was a typical traditional Mage tower, the entire building standing on a solid stone foundation, with subtly shimmering magical symbols on the gray-white facade. The heavy and luxurious oak doors were sealed with a magic barrier, and above the spire were floating crystals and metal structures slowly revolving around the top—those crystals and structures were equipped with surveillance, alert, and combat functions. Jenni was very familiar with them.

A small group of soldiers disembarked, accompanying Jenni to the front of the Mage tower. The symbols sealing the surface of the oak doors flickered a few times, then dissipated, and the doors slowly opened.

No need to knock—the Tower Spirit controlling the Mage tower would discern visitors and alert the guardians.

After patiently waiting for a moment, Jenni saw a mage apprentice in a dark gray robe emerge from the dim doorway.

His name was Mark, one of the mentor’s apprentices.

Not a servile apprentice, a true apprentice.

Jenni didn’t have a good or bad impression of him—just an average young man with average talent but at least worth more than a slave. That was all Jenni thought of him.

Mark emerged with his head bowed and only slightly lifted his head when he reached Jenni. He quickly recognized the person in front of him, showing a look of surprise on his face, then noticed the fully armed soldiers behind Jenni and the two Magic-guided Vehicles parked not far away.

The young man’s expression was slightly bewildered, then he shrunk his neck, speaking with a complex and awkward tone: "Jenni, it’s... it’s really you?"

"It’s me. Go tell the mentor, I’ve returned."