Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 702 - 701: The Duke of the East’s Legacy

Turning a page in the report is like reviewing the experiences and lessons learned on that day at Palamere Highlands, where countless soldiers faced the edge of the blade.

On that day beside the blade, there were not only Typhon people but also members of the Cecil Clan.

Any new invention is imperfect at its inception, and often the more advanced it is, the more this holds true. Even if scholars exhaust their efforts in exploration, even if Gawain, with his experience spanning three lifetimes over a million years, offers guidance, human creations will never be perfect.

Relying on technology and ideas that dominated an era, the Cecil Legion once swept across the southern borders and the Plains of the Holy Spirits, yet when facing the Typhon people, certain vulnerabilities previously unnoticed inevitably emerged. The Typhon people, though on a different path from the Cecil Clan, have become formidable foes capable of challenging the Mage Legion. In the face of strong enemies, any shortcoming can be fatal.

"The armored train is a new invention; even the most experienced veterans can only slowly learn when facing the Iron Throne. Mistakes in this process are quite normal," Gawain said as if talking to himself, "Sir Philip finding these mistakes in a short time and summarizing them is what really matters..."

"The Typhon people have already seen the armored train firsthand, and the troops who successfully retreated are sure to take back lots of crucial intelligence," Amber said beside him, "Will they then interrupt their railroad agreement with us? After all, the harm caused by the armored train is unlike that by ordinary troops once it enters their territory..."

"They will recognize the danger, but they cannot refuse the enormous value of railroad transport. I’m not too worried about this," Gawain shook his head, "But they will surely find ways to counter it, perhaps by changing track specifications to prevent Cecil standard trains from entering their territory directly, or by setting up emergency interruption mechanisms on key entry railroads... all of these are possible."

As he spoke, he turned his gaze back to the substantial report, discovering there were many pages behind it, and this weighty report seemed far from over.

After turning the next page, his gaze suddenly halted, and the expression on his face became complex.

On that page, Maryland wrote just one sentence: "...The intelligence on Typhon’s military and the suggestions for Longwind Defense Line improvements are not solely my wisdom, Your Majesty; Duke Silas Loland’s achievements should not be overlooked."

Amber noticed Gawain’s change in expression and curiously leaned over again: "What’s this?"

As Gawain flipped through the pages, what met his eyes were pages of scanned and copied manuscript materials from the archives of Longwind Fortress.

These were left by Silas Loland, detailed intelligence on the Typhon border corps, some personally written and organized by Duke Loland, others from subordinate commanders’ reports, and even more, original intelligence sent back to the fortress by the former Eastern intelligence personnel at great risk.

There were text records, hand-drawn maps depicting terrain, identification features of several main Typhon knights corps, details on their new weapons and equipment, and even ... the emblem and formation intelligence of the Iron River Knights.

Some copies showed annotations and marks left by Silas Loland, while others seemed to bear traces reminiscent of blood.

Behind these documents were items resembling letters or logs — mostly in the handwriting of Silas Loland and Belk Loren, meticulously recording the construction and upgrades of the Longwind Defense Line, describing the threats of the Typhon Empire Corps, and highlighting structural weaknesses in Anzu at the time.

Gawain saw letters written by Silas Loland to the aristocrats of the royal capital, mentioning the heavy burdens placed on the Duke of the East due to the construction of Longwind Fortress, hoping to borrow some funds, as well as letters to the King and two other Protectorate Dukes...

Gawain was uncertain whether Francis II and the other two Protectorate Dukes responded to these letters (they probably did, or the Longwind Defense Line wouldn’t have been completed smoothly), but those appeals and calls to the aristocrats of the capital... were likely all doomed to fall on deaf ears.

Because just as ’my tributary’s tributary is not my tributary,’ Anzu’s noble leaders also adhered to ’my neighbor’s territory is not my territory.’

The latter half of the report was entirely filled with these copied materials, but they were evidently not the complete set. Maryland was clear in his report’s conclusion: "...The above materials comprise only a small portion. In the archives of Longwind Fortress, we found a large number of records on Typhon surveillance and intelligence on the defense line. Once organized and completed, I will send a full copy to the imperial capital; please wait patiently, Your Majesty."

Amber stood by Gawain, having read through all these things with him. In the end, she couldn’t help shaking her head and muttering, "What a pity."

"We’re likely not qualified to judge Silas Loland’s merits except through historical hindsight. However, these intelligence records from the Duke of the East are indeed a valuable legacy," Gawain sighed, "We should reply to Maryland, letting him make the best use of these assets — I have also approved his construction plan for the Longwind Defense Line."

"Alright."

After putting down the hefty report, Gawain rubbed his forehead with slight fatigue before leaning back in his chair, relaxing his slightly tense shoulders and back while saying, "Philip mentioned the constraints of the Gryphon Knights... wonder how Rebecca’s project is coming along."

"A couple of days ago, I popped over to see the commotion and saw them digging something like a giant mechanical gyro from a deformed frame," Amber said casually, "Maji was also there, in half-dragon human form, with a bunch of metal plates hanging from her wings. No idea what she was doing but she looked like a clothes rack..."

"Rebecca seems to be intending to use the principles of dragon flight to propel the aircraft," Gawain laughed, "If she succeeds, then it’s truly a direct approach, skipping even the transitional propeller phase..."

"I’m rather looking forward to the day they successfully fly," Amber said, "I’ve always been curious about what the earth looks like from high above, but I’ve never managed to master how to control a gryphon. Pittman even said he’s going to master Druid animal transformation so he could become a giant eagle and take me flying. After ten years, he ended up transforming into a quail, and I have to give him a shove from underneath just to get him airborne..."

Gawain: "..."

This was indeed the first time he’d heard that Pittman had such illustrious achievements and special skills?

Just then, footsteps suddenly echoed from the corridor, followed by a rhythmic knocking on the door. Gawain looked up and allowed the person to enter. After the study door opened, an attendant in a blue and white uniform walked in.

"Your Majesty, a special intelligence report," the attendant said respectfully, handing over a printed document, "from the Administrative Office of rocky ridges Town."

"Rocky ridges Town?" Gawain said somewhat surprised, reaching out to take the document from the attendant. Moments later, his expression turned odd.

Amber was instantly curious and leaned in: "Hey, what’s up?"

Gawain: "The report from the Administrative Office of rocky ridges Town says that they have a Transcendent in their prison who’s been engaging in unauthorized magical activities and illegally crossing borders, indulging himself and refusing to leave."

Amber was taken aback: "Just that? Such a small matter reported to you?"

Gawain’s mouth twitched: "The individual claims to be Bard Wendell."

Amber didn’t react at first: "Bard Wendell, huh, sounds familiar, which one... Ah! The one Byron blew up?!"

"Wendell is a Typhon aristocratic surname, and having the same name is quite rare," Gawain said with an odd expression, "This really is... reality being more dramatic than fiction..."

...

Aldernon, imperial capital of Typhon.

After receiving orders, Andresha, rushing back, once again set foot on the streets of the city she was born and raised in.

Riding in a carriage of the Wendell family, listening to the sound of the wheels rolling over the ground, Andresha opened the side panel of the carriage and gazed, somewhat distracted, at the street scenery and the passing pedestrians.

She knew she had been away from this city for a long time, but the changes that had occurred still exceeded her expectations.

Some old buildings had been demolished, unfamiliar structures appeared on the streets, and even the houses she recognized had peculiar signs, labeled as XX Company, XX Factory. Aldernon, shrouded in a thin mist, was enveloped in a gray haze with a faintly strange smell permeating it, a scent that was unpleasant, causing Andresha to frown slightly involuntarily.

Is this the "new atmosphere of the imperial capital" described in the letters received from home?

Andresha frowned, looking at the bustling flow of people on the road. She recalled the city’s past, remembering its leisurely, proud citizens, and its comfortable, steady rhythm. However, the current Aldernon seemed like a mechanical clock wound tight, with a fast-turning gear driving everyone. The pedestrians in her sight walked briskly, as if unwilling to waste even a minute, heading down streets leading either to tall, unsightly factory buildings or looming chimneys...

Much of the city was still the same as when she left, yet a change beneath the surface seemed to alter everything. Andresha felt she no longer recognized the place.

As the carriage passed down a long street, gradually approaching the Wendell family residence, Andresha’s thoughts finally settled, and she began to ponder the matters she had to face.

She returned home, but she felt that this homecoming was not one marked with honor.

The carriage smoothly stopped at the door, with servants emerging to greet her, all wearing merry smiles—after all, the return of the young lady was a cause for their celebration. Besides the ordinary servants, the familiar butler also came out and approached the carriage door.

The butler bowed: "Young lady, welcome home."

Andresha leaned out: "Is Grandfather home?"

"Yes, he is waiting for you in the floral hall."