Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 789 - 788: A Foreign Land

This is a marvelous and interesting journey.

At least, it has been so far.

Matilda sat with an impeccable grace on her wide and comfortable seat, quietly watching the mountains of the Cecil Empire retreat outside the train window. The wind and snow had diminished significantly, making the scenery appear more open and vivid. Inside the carriage, soothing music released by some magical devices wafted around. Beautiful scenery, music, a perfectly adjusted environment, and plentiful food stored on the train made this long-distance winter journey particularly comfortable.

Comfortable enough to make one forget they were sitting inside a massive steel beast, forget they were racing over the icy wilderness of Cecil at speeds far beyond any galloping horse.

A young man with short blonde hair, youthful face, yet exceedingly mature and composed disposition, sat opposite Matilda. Noticing the foreign princess seemed to be in good spirits, he smiled faintly and spoke with a touch of pride, "How is the experience of traveling by magic train?"

Matilda withdrew her gaze from the window and looked at the young man across from her.

This young man named Philip possessed a surprising identity; despite his youth, he was already one of the military leaders of the Cecil Empire, commanding the empire’s most powerful ground army, the main force of which... was now stationed at the Longwind Defense Line.

To be greeted and "escorted" by such an important military leader for Princess Typhon’s envoy group was appropriately matched and fully adhered to ceremonial norms.

Matilda smiled slightly.

"It’s a wonderful experience," she said with a smile, "and we’ve seen the best scenery."

Philip also smiled.

Thanks to General Maryland’s careful arrangement and the efforts of various units in the Longwind Region, the Princess Veronica had only scenery to see since entering Cecil.

"Frankly, this level of travel experience is not new to me," Matilda continued, "The novelty is that all of this is achieved through magic machineries. In the past, relying on mages’ power, achieving comfortable travel through vast wilderness with such large tools or maintaining a pleasant environment in harsh conditions was not difficult. But for magic technology to realize these powers through lifeless steel, which should be controlled by mages, is something I have never imagined.

"In Typhon, most aristocrats recognize the power of magic machines and are enthusiastic about the newly emerging magic trains and various factories, but there are still some traditional mages who don’t like these things—always saying machines lack a soul."

"That’s where we differ," Philip laughed, "We believe a different kind of soul resides within the machines, lying in the rotating gears and moving pistons, needing only lubricating grease and surging mana—they are humans’ loyal friends."

"...That’s why magic technology first appeared in Cecil and also developed the fastest on this land," Matilda said with a hint of admiration, "I always had an interest in magic technology, which I love it even more than traditional spells. Unfortunately, Typhon still has a long way to go in this regard."

This was procedural modest rhetoric, Philip knew this, so he merely smiled slightly without directly responding.

Commercial flattery, after all, was not his specialty...

A black-haired middle-aged male aristocrat seated beside Matilda also joined the conversation, "I’m also interested in magic technology. To be honest, I am even investing in it and researching it. It’s truly a costly venture. From this perspective, I admire the Cecil Clan—you dare to pay the price for gains, rich in adventurer spirit."

Matilda glanced at the male aristocrat—Earl Dule was one of the most passionate "progressive nobles" in Aldernon regarding magic technology. He owned the north’s largest plantation and invested in several large textile and spinning factories. His role in the envoy group partly represented those Aldernon nobles interested in magic technology and seeking more business value from it.

With these thoughts, Princess Typhon approvingly nodded, "Building factories and developing machines certainly come at a high cost, but the returns are indeed remarkable—hence attracting more aristocrats and merchants as investors. Is this the same in Cecil?"

"...Certainly." Philip smiled and nodded.

The train raced across the wilderness, the undulating ridge line outside the window was nearing an end, and it seemed they were about to enter the plains ahead.

Yet Matilda couldn’t help but ponder Philip’s last response, that "certainly," instinctively feeling the word held more profound meaning, though momentarily unable to grasp its root.

At that very moment, the train finally burst out from behind the mountains, after the huge rocky walls flashed by, a boundless plain opened up before them, the scenery outside the window abruptly expanding.

At the junction between the plain and the mountains’ end, on a natural highland, stood a massive stone monument beside the railway line, seemingly surrounded by fences, and near what appeared to be railway maintenance and monitoring stations.

Matilda, having just noticed that unique construction, was about to curiously wonder why such a noticeable object was placed in the wilderness, when suddenly a loud, resonant whistle sounded from the top of the carriage, echoing over the vast plain.

This caused her to pause in surprise: Why the sudden whistle? Was there a stop or crossing train here?

As confusion began to swell, she and other Typhon envoys were startled to see all the Cecil attendees in the carriage stand in unison, including the young army leader. These noble knights and officers collectively turned towards the window, gazing at the gigantic stone monument standing at the mountain’s end, solemn and respectful as if honoring it.

When the Typhon envoys saw the surrounding Cecil attendees rise simultaneously, they were initially alarmed, even anxious, but now were only confused. Those solemn faces leaving them unsure whether to inquire or not, merely waiting tensely for about ten seconds. Only after Philip and the rest were seated again did Matilda finally ask, "General Philip, may I ask what this is..."

"You noticed that stone monument, correct?" Philip looked at Matilda, calmly asking.

"Yes, I noticed it—and was just about to ask."

"The railway line beneath your feet was hastily extended and built on the original White Sand Mining railway line after the Crystal Cluster War," Philip slowly explained, "To swiftly transport food and securitization troops to the eastern region, preventing the aftermath of the Crystal Cluster War from causing widespread famine and chaos there, this line’s construction period had to be compressed before winter’s end.

"To quickly traverse the most challenging terrain of the Byselle Mountains, the third construction army utilized large-scale geological shaping spells, including mages urgently dispatched from the Old Capital and large engineering machines capable of casting the Stone-to-Mud Spell.

"When breaking through the Cardin Pass, an unseen mana focal point caused the spell to go out of control, and the cliff collapsed.

"Thirty-seven people were buried underneath, including seven mages and twenty workers."

Matilda widened her eyes slightly, while Earl Dule instinctively spoke, "So it’s to commemorate the mages who sacrificed..."

"It commemorates all who sacrificed," Philip looked into Earl Dule’s eyes, "The collapsed rock walls consumed the victims, the spell’s aftermath merging human flesh and stone inseparably. We transported these stones fused with flesh from the pass, forming a monument at the place they attempted to break through but failed—facing the Eastern Plains, back against the Byselle Mountains.

"The train whistles after passing through the Kaling Pass, and soldiers salute when passing the monument. This is customary on this route."

Matilda listened quietly and earnestly, her expression seemingly unchanged.

The emissaries from Typhon listened quietly, with some appearing confused and others lost in thought.

The black-haired, black-bearded Earl Dule, a large investor noble from Aldernon, couldn’t help but look out the window, staring in the direction where the monument had receded. Amid the lingering sound of the train whistle, he murmured:

"Such a grand monument... Even with the help of mages, it wouldn’t be easy to build."

Perhaps it’s enough to build another textile mill.

Matilda listened to Earl Dule’s muttering, watching the Cecil plains speedily retreating outside the train.

Such a foreign land...

...

The wind from the far northern seas blew across the towering mountains, swirling the snow nestled in the ranges. The Dragonborn flags flew high on the hefty peak of Dragonwatch Keep, the flags’ ends pointing south, fluttering continuously.

"The emissary group has been finalized and will depart soon," Archduke Balogar of Dragonblood stood on the broad stone terrace of Dragonwatch Keep, overlooking the snowy realm, speaking to the court official beside him, "Sir Golosh, you’ll lead the team, ensuring everything goes smoothly."

"Certainly, we will accomplish the mission, Your Majesty," Sir Golosh bowed his head and said in a deep voice.

Balogar nodded, his tone leisurely: "We’ve indeed been closed off in these harsh mountains for too long. The world beyond is also worth seeing.

"Consider yourself the eyes of the Kingdom, observe the Cecil Empire thoroughly, and see what’s truly extraordinary about them.

"After all, us ’exiles’ shouldn’t waste Talronde’s goodwill."

"Talronde..." Sir Golosh’s eyes shifted subtly, "How much longer must we wait..."

"From the beginning, this has been a nearly perpetual wait," Archduke Balogar said slowly, "Maintaining hope from a hopeless perspective is how our patience lasts."

"...Yes, Your Majesty."

Balogar was silent for a moment, then withdrew his gaze, looking at the trusted court official beside him. A slight smile emerged: "Speaking of which, you haven’t seen your daughter in quite a while, have you?"

"...Saw her from afar five years ago," Sir Golosh’s tone held some helplessness and embarrassment, "Unruly child... She ran amok in the human world, truly unruly."

"Young people, being reckless or rebellious is normal. Didn’t you leap off Dragon Leap Cliff in your youth?" Archduke Balogar chuckled and shook his head, "Just consider it a short journey in the human world. After a few decades or centuries of adventures, perhaps she’ll return."

Sir Golosh paused, then sighed: "...Hopefully so."

...

The cold wind blew, and Maji, walking alongside the flight testing ground, suddenly couldn’t help but sneeze loudly, feeling a strange chill rise within.

Rebecca immediately looked curiously at her Dragonborn friend: "Hey? What’s up? Caught a cold?"

"No... I don’t think so," Maji rubbed her nose forcefully, feeling quite peculiar inside, "Just suddenly felt a bit chilly and couldn’t help but sneeze."

"Really not caught a cold from the weather?"

"Definitely not," Maji confidently shook her head, "Dragonborn bodies are very hardy, especially impervious to cold. I grew up in colder places than this, during the coldest winter we would still wear single garments playing ’Ice Path Racing,’ a truly chilly sport."

Rebecca’s eyes brightened suddenly, showing great interest: "Ice Path Racing? What’s that?"

"Ah, it’s a small game popular among Dragonborn children," Maji couldn’t help but laugh, recalling her fun childhood, "The main gameplay is to tuck yourself into a sturdy barrel and roll down a pre-carved ice path from the mountaintop, seeing who can stand up first at the foot of the mountain—and if you throw up, you’re disqualified, even if you stand up first."

Rebecca: "...Wow!"

Sonya, walking on the other side, widened her eyes and looked at Maji with a peculiar gaze: "You people from the Sacred Dragon Kingdom... play this kind of thing since childhood?"

Maji thought for a moment and shook her head: "Of course not all children play like this."

Sonya breathed a sigh of relief: "I thought so..."

"It’s the girls who play like I said—the boys don’t use barrels."

Sonya: "?"

This truly is a foreign custom... Hard to imagine indeed.