Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 676 - 675: Inheritance

Melita Ponia’s words made Gawain raise an eyebrow: "Empire Era... That phrase is quite insightful."

"Being able to witness this historical turning point is one of the greatest gains after coming to this continent," the agent lady smiled, "A unique ’coronation’ ceremony, it wasn’t as luxurious as I imagined, but more impressive than I expected—your ceremony will surely be etched in many minds."

Gawain placed his sword aside, sat down at his desk, and casually said, "Coronations are meant for others to see, naturally they need to be impressive."

Melita made no comment but stepped forward, approaching Gawain’s desk and placed a stack of manuscripts on it.

"Have you read them?" Gawain glanced at the manuscripts, "Looks like... you have something to say?"

"Frankly, I previously underestimated the ’knowledge’ you mentioned," Melita said blandly, "It’s difficult to price it, and... I’m unsure if I should actually accept your ’commission’."

Gawain quietly looked at the other for two seconds before speaking: "You don’t understand why I want to leave these things behind?"

"You try to teach people how to discern whether your Empire is operating normally and suggest they overthrow it after it becomes corrupt, you even provided detailed processes and methods," Melita met Gawain’s gaze, those pale purple eyes seemed bottomless, "A sane person wouldn’t do this, yet a crazy person couldn’t have written these, so I’m curious... what’s your reason for doing this?"

"First, let me correct one thing, I only wrote down what I know in this, there are no orders or directives within—a person who, after reading the Chapter ’The Nature of State and Class,’ questions the Cecil Empire’s structure, that’s of their own realization and not because of the emperor’s command," Gawain slowly said, "Secondly, my reason is simple—to give myself an account."

Melita blinked: "To give yourself an account?"

Gawain did not answer immediately but placed his hand on the stack of manuscripts, flipping through them casually.

Several Chapter titles appeared between the pages—"The Birth of Nobility and Their Inevitable Changes," "How the Means of Production are Owned," "The Nature of State and Class," "Why You Are Hungry," "Empire, Bread, Guns"...

His fingers stopped at the final segment, where the bold handwritten letters formed a sentence that might have odd grammar to people in this world: "Are Noble and Ministers Born to be So?"

"Just like you said, the Empire Era has begun," he finally raised his head, gazing at Melita, "Started by my own hands.

"Indeed, it was the civil war and Crystal Cluster Monsters that buried the old kingdoms, but as a long-time Observer, you should have already seen, the civil war and monsters merely buried the surface of the old kingdom, what truly buries the royal society, is Cecil’s industrial society and Imperial order—war may shatter an army, but armies can be rebuilt, only a completely new social order and more advanced productivity can thoroughly replace the old order from fundamental levels like social structure and production relations, resulting in—the Empire Era.

"The Empire Era is better than the Kingdom Era, there’s no doubt about it, but I’m well aware as you are, it will eventually deteriorate...

"Cecil Empire is the result of compromise—although many believe I am uncompromising, thinking I would destroy all obstacles with guns and bombs, the reality is, from the day the Empire Era began, I already compromised with reality—I retained the concept of ’nobility,’ preserved the monarch, kept many hidden dangers of the royal era, yet built a tight and efficient personal central authority system, in exchange for the peace and unity of the next generations, but precisely because I kept those things, one day we will face the same problems as Anzu...

"The nobility under the new political system, remain as nobles, the officials in the Administrative Office will soon become bureaucrats, and when this happens, this Empire will inevitably rot again from the roots, just like Anzu before, and possibly worse—because the Empire I built is far less easy to overthrow than the scattered kingdoms.

"Before Wales Moen abdicated, he asked me if the new realm would rot like Anzu, we both actually know the answer—of course, it will, and such rot cannot be stopped merely by one or two wise emperors or several forward-thinking Grand Governors, the truth is, given Cecil Empire’s uniqueness, if it truly rots one day, then the emperor and Grand Governors will be the ones most thoroughly rotten.

"This is determined by Cecil Empire’s royal order just as Anzu’s rot was determined by Anzu’s aristocratic order.

"By then, there might not be another rise from the southern borders, nor likely another Wales Moen arising from the Imperial Palace, and I may not be able to rise from the grave again."

Gawain talked as he patted the manuscripts on the table.

"So I have left this behind—if by then the emperor in the palace is unwilling to step down, the ancestor’s power will kick them out."

"Just relying on these manuscripts?" Melita finally spoke, "Do you really think it will be effective based on the enlightenment it brings?"

"So I said, I am giving an account to myself," Gawain gently exhaled, "and to be honest... how do you know it won’t be effective?"

"It’s truly... an interesting idea, choosing to be friends with you back then seems to have been the right decision," under the veil, Melita seemed to reveal a vague smile, "but I still have a question—do you really not mind future generations overthrowing the Empire you painstakingly established?"

Gawain was silent for two seconds, then suddenly smiled frankly: "To say something irresponsible—by then I’ll be dead, what difference does it make?"

Melita continued to ask: "Then let’s hypothesize again—what if one day you come back to life once more? After all, you’ve already done it."

Gawain was quite embarrassed by this question: "...I rose from the grave, not doing sit-ups in a coffin..."

Melita slightly leaned forward, drawing very close, in those human eyes, a faint vertical pupil emerged: "Then let me rephrase, what if you never die? Your body underwent elemental tempering and it’s proven you won’t age, in other words, as long as you don’t ’die from exhaustion,’ you can live forever, but your Grand Governors and officials won’t, one person’s wisdom may delay the Empire’s decay, but as long as it operates under this system, it will decay, of course, you might conduct a second reform before then, but suppose, just suppose—you fail, you cannot save your Empire, and the Mithril Vault starts spreading these ’forbidden knowledge’ as per your commission, what would you do then? Will you be the second Wales Moen?"

The agent lady paused slightly, then continued: "Don’t just say splendid words, if you are impulsive because of some false ’historical sense of mission’ brought by the coronation ceremony, you may retract now—once such a commission is activated, the Mithril Vault doesn’t accept ’unsubscribe services.’

The humanoid dragon emitted an indescribable pressure, after a series of questions, her attitude was evidently no longer just mere ’inquiry,’ Gawain faced this pressure, lifted his head to meet her gaze, and after a moment, he broke the silence: "Wales’s choice is admirable... but to be honest, I might not be as carefree as him by then.

"I am a stubborn and somewhat selfish person, at least compared to Wales, and if the day you mentioned truly comes, I might have already rotted from the inside.

"So, I’m unlikely to ’roll’ off the throne. I will firmly grasp my royal power, deny my failures, and actively organize forces to suppress the rebellion—because by that time, I probably will have forgotten the days of the founding period and the rise of the southern borders, forgotten the words I spoke to you today.

"At that moment, in my eyes, the righteous army will all be traitors.

"If it really comes to that... may the rebel ships be sturdy and their cannons fierce."

At an incredibly close distance, Melita stared into Gawain’s eyes for a long time.

Then she suddenly straightened up, returning to a normal distance. The always elegant agent lady laughed aloud.

The laughter bore no trace of mockery, but was purely joyful.

"Humans truly are an interesting species, your selfishness and selflessness both taken to an alarmingly extreme degree," Melita finally stopped laughing, her eyes still curved, "Since you’ve spoken to such lengths, it seems there’s nothing more to verify. However, I’m curious about one thing... Isn’t it rash to hand over something that concerns the ’fortune of the nation’ to the Mithril Vault, to the Dragonkin?"

As she spoke, she picked up the manuscript on the table and waved it in the air: "What if we reveal it ahead of time? What if we alter it? We are Dragonkin, seen as another race by you humans... Aren’t you trusting us a bit too much?"

"If the Dragonkin truly wished to destroy the current Cecil Empire, would they need to make a fuss about a manuscript?" Gawain glanced at her, "And if you wish to use it for something in the future... honestly, the power of these manuscripts isn’t as strong as all that. What I’ve summarized is but some superficial content, and one day in the future, the world will certainly see people who understand deeper and think farther than I do; they don’t need any ’ancient manuscript guidance’. After all, these things are merely an account to myself."

"It seems you’ve already contemplated deeply in this regard," Melita sighed, "Alright then, I’ll take on this commission. But there’s one thing I must remind you: No one can understand the content of your manuscript right now."

Gawain gently nodded: "I know, which is why I want you to safeguard it, because it appeared too early, possibly even a generation too early—and what I aim to do is continue promoting education, continue transforming this society. Should I age and die like ordinary people, then at least in my lifetime, I hope to let people be able to understand it..."

The room fell silent for a moment, and after a few seconds of silence, Melita suddenly spoke: "Now, I know how to price this special commission."

"Oh?" Gawain looked up at her, then joked, "I hope it’s not too exorbitant a price—current Empire finances aren’t particularly ample."

"Just your recent promises will suffice as payment," Melita said, "Go forth with your civilian education, complete your transformation plan. If your promise is fulfilled, the Mithril Vault will also keep their promise. If you fail... these manuscripts will never see the light of day."

Gawain scratched his chin: "That sounds like a losing deal."

"No, the Mithril Vault never deals in losing trades," Melita smiled.

After pausing a moment, she added: "If you have nothing else, I’ll be leaving. This is a substantial commission, and I must return to Talronde for it."

"There’s something I’d like to consult," Gawain spoke before she left, "You know about the origin of that giant skull in today’s ceremony, right?"

"Of course, I witnessed it firsthand—and I’ve seen your recent publicity,"

"More publicity will follow, everyone will know the origin of that skull, and the plans behind the Oblivion Association," Gawain said, "Naturally, we will control the messaging to prevent overly intense shocks that could provoke societal chaos. My question is, does this help us escape the black trap?"

Melita fell silent for a moment, and amidst this silence, faint scales appeared on her cheeks and arms; her eyes turned into golden vertical pupils, the presence of a dragon unconsciously leaked out, causing the room’s lighting to flicker erratically, while within her shadow, seemingly indescribable entities struggled to break free—this humanoid dragon’s body slightly trembled as if painfully resisting some sudden descending will. Just when Gawain was about to call it off, she managed to regain control at a crucial point, gently nodded: "Yes."

"Then..."

Melita bit her lip: "Further questions... will cost extra..."

"No, that’s enough," Gawain waved his hand, "I’ve gleaned what I wanted."

The alien force enveloping Melita swiftly dissipated; this humanoid dragon staggered slightly, then nodded to Gawain, took a deep breath, and left the room.

Moments later, in the footage sent by the surveillance satellites, Gawain saw a blue dragon take off from the top level of Silver Castle, flying towards the north.

"Watching the trajectory of the dragon’s departure, Gawain couldn’t help but feel a bit curious—not at all curious why the castle’s inhabitants hadn’t noticed a dragon flying overhead, as ’position distortion’ spells could be mastered even by humans and surely weren’t difficult for giant dragons. Instead, he wondered...

How does such a large creature, whose shape doesn’t quite align with aerodynamics and whose wings seem limited in lift capacity, manage to fly so quickly?

Perhaps it’s the magic of friendship...

Shaking his head, he discarded those far-fetched thoughts, lightly exercised his shoulders, and leaned back in his chair.

"The black trap...

The problem indeed lies with the Gods."

(Asking for monthly votes!! Speaking of which, does anyone notice each Chapter now contains a thousand more words than before =.=)"