Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 792 - 791: Matilda

Seated in the smoothly moving magic-guided vehicle, Matilda looked out the window.

The wide and even road extended forward along her line of sight, a broad avenue that could accommodate eight or nine large carriages side by side, clearly designed to cope with the pressures of modern transportation. The well-organized and aesthetically pleasing architectural complexes lined the sides of the road, showcasing a new style different from both Typhon and Old Anzu—retaining the classic elegance of the Northern Kingdoms while exhibiting a certain pleasing neatness and orderly form.

Between these buildings and roads, one could see neatly arranged street lamps, magical projections at intersections or open spaces, stops designed for magic-guided vehicles, and crowds wearing bright, thick winter clothing, who thronged the streets in this season where winter had yet to recede.

On those magical projections and the large colorful paintings at the stops, all sorts of welcome messages and images appeared, even displaying real-time footage of the moving convoy.

This is the modern city of magic, Cecil Castle...

Matilda withdrew her gaze but maintained her Transcendent perception, remaining aware of the movements on the road outside. She looked at Philip, who was riding in the same vehicle with her, and saw an almost undisguised pride on the face of the young army commander.

This was normal; a noble of such status and rank would naturally display this kind of pride in front of a foreign envoy.

But on the faces of those Cecil Clan on the sides of the road, said to be "ordinary citizens," there appeared similar expressions of pride, intermingled with curiosity and excitement, which was not so commonplace.

"I hope you are satisfied with our arranged welcome process," Philip said with a smile, looking into the eyes of the Typhon Princess in front of him. "Cecil and Typhon have many differences in customs and traditions, but we share a common root, and this root can become a bond to further bring the two kingdoms closer together."

"I sincerely hope for a longer-lasting peace," Matilda replied with a smile as well, "it is beneficial for all of us."

The magic-guided convoy carrying the Typhon delegation passed along the straight "Pioneer Avenue" of Cecil Castle, making its way towards the royal district under the welcome of citizens, and escorted by the security team and Steel Cavalry. They gradually left the outer city area and entered the city center. As a large square appeared outside the window, all the Typhon envoys, including Matilda, suddenly heard a loud explosive sound—

It was as if thunder had cracked open, and not far away, more than thirty explosions erupted continuously.

Someone in the envoy team revealed a look of surprise and uncertainty, and even Matilda couldn’t help but look at Philip opposite her, who just smiled at her: "No need to worry, it’s just a cannon salute.

"Using a cannon salute to welcome guests from afar is a tradition of Cecil."

Matilda blinked, recalling some previously gathered intelligence in surprise, and couldn’t help the odd thoughts that flashed through her mind—

It seemed the Cecil Clan indeed liked to use these loud cannon sounds to greet their guests, except sometimes they would shoot them into the sky, sometimes over the heads of their guests...

"An interesting custom," she smiled, "it’s true that new customs arise in the new era."

As the time approached noon, and the sun gradually reached its zenith, the Typhon delegation led by Matilda arrived before Gawain.

After a grand yet solemn, and for the Typhon delegates, uniquely novel welcome ceremony, Gawain, standing on the steps of the "Autumn Palace," smiled as he watched the "Flower of Highmountain."

Beside him stood Aunt Heidi, Rebecca, several high officials of the Administrative Office, and Veronica holding the platinum scepter.

Amber was not visible at the scene, but those familiar knew the Intelligence Agency Director must be present—just temporarily yet to manifest from the air.

Matilda was dressed in a richly classical black court long gown, her long black hair adorned with gold fine chains hanging to her waist. She approached Gawain with impeccable demeanor and slightly bowed her head, "Salute to you, Great His Majesty Gawain Cecil.

"On behalf of the Augustus Clan, I bring greetings of friendship from Typhon.

"May you be healthy and long-lived, may your achievements be passed down through generations."

"In a way, your last sentence is more a statement than a blessing," Gawain replied with a hint of a joke, stepping forward, "Welcome to Cecil."

What followed was the unavoidable yet dull phase of official speeches, where both parties, faces adorned with smiles, exchanged well-prepared compliments. Nevertheless, everyone had to maintain a solemn demeanor, striving to make this insipid mutual flattery appear somewhat more sincere.

Rebecca found herself bored within a few seconds and even sneaked a yawn. As she watched Matilda Augustus engaging in lively conversation with her ancestor, she couldn’t help but wonder. She looked around, seeing Aunt Heidi on one side and Veronica on the other, knowing small talk with the former might get her in trouble, she turned to Veronica: "Hey, she’s a princess and so am I, yet how come I can’t break down a compliment into three parts like she does?"

This was a difficult question to answer—after all, during the time of the Anzu Dynasty, Veronica could break down the same compliment into four parts.

So, the "Saint Princess" enveloped in a faint Holy Light remained silent, merely shaking her head gently. Her gaze then fell on Matilda, remaining there for a long time.

Feeling something, Matilda lifted her head, meeting a pair of eyes gentle and serene, yet lacking the quality of living beings, resembling eyes carved from crystal.

Those eyes seemed to carry a profound scrutiny, causing a slight stir in Matilda’s heart, but when she looked more closely, she found those eyes only brushed over her, the earlier strange feeling of scrutiny vanished.

After the reception ceremony, was the grand luncheon.

The formal discussions on establishing embassies, exchanging ambassadors, and student exchange programs were scheduled for the next day, but before the official talks, the higher-ups of both sides could engage in some preliminary "exchange of attitudes" through banquets and similar activities. Surrounded by elements of gourmet food and music, these preliminary exchanges could unfold relatively easily. With both parties eager for successful negotiations, such early exchanges often yield excellent results.

Matilda savored the exquisite food that differed from that of Typhon, using the dining knife to cut the spiced roasted meat while still maintaining a graceful and elegant demeanor, not showing too much favor for any one dish. Her gaze swept over the servers moving through the banquet hall, the magic projections set up around the hall, and the "Cecil Princess" who seemed not quite adept at table manners, finally resting upon Gawain: "I had heard before that the people of Anzu are very skilled in roasting meat, so much so that the palace chefs of Typhon are eager to learn the Anzu spices, but only after tasting it myself did I realize that their imitation is merely an imitation; the genuine article is entirely different."

"Then you might be wronging your palace chefs," Gawain said with a smile. "The dishes before you are not traditional ’Anzu cuisine,’ but rather something I came up with on a whim in the past two years—does it suit your taste?"

"You invented them?" Matilda looked at the several desserts and the roasted meat on the plate in astonishment and then praised them with genuine admiration after her surprise, "It’s truly incredible. I thought you were just a powerful knight and a wise ruler, but I didn’t expect you to be a gourmet who can create delicacies—their flavors are indeed quite good, it’s my honor to sample them."

Gawain smiled slightly, not saying much beyond that.

A few years ago, when he had just risen from the grave, he had thought about improving the culinary life of this otherworldly place with the dishes in his mind and had earnestly concocted a few foods that were not available locally, but eventually, there was no scene of pulling out a plate of roast meat and having the natives worship it. After all, the gourmets of this world are not just eating dirt, and he himself... in his past life, was just an ordinary foodie, no matter how many Celestial Empire dishes there were, he could eat but not make them himself.

The few dishes he came up with have now received the highest praise of "tastes good," and have quickly been outclassed in variety by local chefs, leaving a few roasts and Jiangnan pastries as garnishes at "state banquets," counting as the last bit of contribution he, as a traverser, has left in this world’s culinary art.

As Gawain’s mind drifted slightly, Matilda swallowed another bite of food, looking curiously at the small plate of fruit sliced thinly before her, and asked with curiosity, "This fruit has a very peculiar taste, I’ve never had it before... is it a Cecil specialty?"

Gawain glanced at the plate of fruit, almost revealing a strange expression but managed to maintain his composure at the last moment: "This is Sorin Tree Fruit, indeed considered a specialty of the Cecil Empire."

He controlled his expression, but couldn’t control his thoughts.

That was a fruit borne of Beltira Augustus, most of which was used to alleviate the food crisis in the Plains of the Holy Spirits, with a small portion sent as samples to Cecil Castle.

Now, he was using the fruit produced by the ancestors of the Augustus Clan to entertain their descendants.

After eating it, they still had to say thank you.

Thinking through the whole process, it seemed rather devilish...

Meanwhile, Matilda did not know what she had eaten (not that it mattered, as the thousands of people in Cecil were eating these fruits), and after a couple of polite compliments, she brought up a more formal topic.

"My visit this time, besides the official diplomatic visit and preparation for subsequent exchange student programs, also brings a personal greeting from my father," she placed down her knife and fork, smiling lightly, "He believes that the new order you have established and the magic guide technology you have brought are great things that can change this world, and he admires them..."

"The order is not something I built alone, nor is the magic guide technology something I created," Gawain responded casually, "but I do admit one thing—they can indeed change this world."

Matilda looked at Gawain, a bit solemnly, "My father... guessed you would give a similar answer."

"Oh?" Gawain raised his eyebrows, "What else did he say?"

"He said you and he are similar people, focusing on things beyond just one city, one nation, one generation," Matilda stated seriously, "He also wished for me to convey a message: In the face of national interests, we are Cecil and Typhon; in the face of this world, we are all human beings. This world is not safe, and at least you understand this."

Gawain’s actions paused slightly.

After a moment, he smiled, and said calmly, "We have jointly enhanced the great walls, briefly spoke with your father at the border of the Gondor wasteland.

"So I can sense that his vision is longer than that of most people of this era.

"I’m glad he had you bring this message. You can tell him that the fate of us all lies on this continent, under this premise, Cecil is more than willing to work with Typhon to create a new era of peace and prosperity."

As the words fell, Gawain had already raised his wine glass.

Matilda smiled, raising her wine glass in kind.

"Then let’s toast to this peaceful and prosperous era ahead of time," she said.

...

After the grand luncheon, the delegation was arranged to rest in the designated area of the Autumn Palace, while Gawain returned to his own residence.

He did not rest, instead heading to the study.

Veronica was already waiting there.

"Wright said you needed to see me," Gawain sat down behind the desk, looking at the "Saint Princess" holding the platinum scepter before him, once the leader of the Gondor Defier, "and I noticed you looked at Princess Matilda several times during the reception and banquet—is it related to her?"

"Yes," Veronica nodded, speaking directly, "I sensed a faint presence of the gods on her, very weak, but it does indeed exist."