Chapter 98 — The Faith of the Holy Light

Had this been the genuine Gao Yang Cecil of seven hundred years ago, his mood at this moment would have been one of despondency, even sorrow. For in that age the human kingdoms knew nothing of the conflicts that would come later; they were all fellow folk who had fled the wastelands of Gondor together, sundered and scattered only by the cataclysm, each holding its own corner of the world. The several kingdoms had joined hands to raise their defenses and share their resources, and the honeymoon between the Typhon Empire and the Kingdom of Ansul had lasted more than five hundred years.

In those days no one had imagined that the day would come when they would turn their blades upon one another.

But the man standing here now was not the genuine Gao Yang Cecil; he was merely a satellite spirit who had fallen from the sky. Gao Yang knew he ought to heave a mournful sigh, yet he simply could not get into character, so he settled for forcing a stiff and solemn expression onto his face—enough, at least, to pass as a meme of grief beyond all sorrow. "So have they already declared war?"

"Not quite—by a hair's breadth," Count Kern said with a gentle shake of his head. "Every diplomatic channel has been severed. Both sides are massing troops. At this point there is no reasoning left to be done; it is simply a question of who strikes first. We are all speculating that within a year, the first great war to break out among the human kingdoms will begin."

Rebecca, trailing at his side, could hold back no longer. "But what we face is the magic tide! If the Great Wall truly collapses, do they imagine the Typhon Empire will be safe and sound? If the monsters in the Gondor wasteland break loose, will those monsters care which country you belong to?"

"In fact, in the final correspondence before diplomatic ties were cut, my father the King issued a warning to the Empire," Viroday said in a low voice. "He warned those proud Imperials that the Gondor wasteland is changing, that signs of aberrant activity had been detected along the Ansul border, and he hoped the Imperials would set aside their foolish hatred in the face of this true crisis..."

Amber asked, all impatience, "And then?"

Viroday lowered her eyes. "And then Typhon unilaterally cut off the magical communications along the border and dispatched thirty thousand more troops."

"That defies all reason!" Rebecca said at once. "How much hatred does Typhon bear Ansul, to go this far? And even if they do not believe it, they could at least say something—what does cutting off communications outright even mean..."

"Because human beings are not a particularly clever species, especially once politics and the noble system are stirred into the mix. Their minds are forever clouded by profit, face, clan, and the inertia of war, and the like," Gao Yang said, shaking his head. "And why should the Typhonians believe Ansul when it says the magic tide is coming? They would sooner believe you are using it as a pretext to stall or to prepare for war—and even if they did believe it... I suspect they would be only too glad to see the magic tide erupt with Ansul at its center."

Rebecca blinked, her wolf-slapped head grinding to a halt on this topic. "Why?"

Gao Yang shrugged. "Because then Ansul is finished, and they think they can carve up the spoils."

Rebecca felt she was falling even further behind Gao Yang's pace. "They think that is possible? In the face of the magic tide..."

"Before you saw those aberrants with your own eyes, had you ever imagined the power of those monsters? Before Cecil Territory was corrupted by the elements into wasteland, had you ever imagined the true might of chaotic magic? And even now, what you have seen is not even a ripple of the true magic tide."

Rebecca: "..."

Gao Yang sighed. These words were not meant for Rebecca alone, but for Viroday and the other two beside her as well. "So that is the reason. Seven hundred years have passed, and humans are a short-lived and short-sighted race. Today, apart from the elves, everyone regards the magic tide as a legend of antiquity. The Ansul royal house has even abandoned the whole of the south outright. Tell me—today, apart from this frontier territory, is there any place in all of Ansul from which one can look directly upon the Great Wall?"

Count Kern's expression shifted slightly, while Viroday folded her hands upon her breast, lowered her head, and said softly, "May the God of Holy Light forgive the benighted multitudes. Humanity huddles upon safe soil, and the borders of civilization retreat again and again. That barrier, upon which the life and death of all depend, has long since vanished from their sight..."

"Today I fear only the elves still tend the nodes upon the Great Wall with any sense of duty, yet neither Ansul nor Typhon has the slightest interest in them," Gao Yang said with a sigh, then shifted his tone. "But then again, the Typhon Empire's reaction is indeed somewhat off. Granted, people have their benighted moments, but their response... bears the marks of exerting far more force than the situation warrants."

Count Kern's eyes widened slightly. "You mean to say they know monsters have appeared within Ansul, and they believe in the threat of the Gondor wasteland, yet they still choose to begin a human civil war first?"

"I said nothing of the sort, because I have no idea what the Typhon Empire looks like these days. The old fellows I knew back then are long dead and gone," Gao Yang said, spreading his hands. "Never mind Typhon—I have been stumbling about in Ansul for months now. These past few centuries you people have simply grown wild. If I had not seen with my own eyes that many folk hang portraits of our old crowd on their walls, I would never believe this land was truly opened up by us back in the day..."

Viroday: "..."

After this, Gao Yang arranged a welcoming banquet for the guests from the royal capital.

The pioneer camp was still in a state of land-clearing. Apart from some game hunted from the nearby mountains and forests, the camp's food supply depended mainly on purchases from Tamsin Town, shipped upriver. Though a flock of livestock and poultry had been brought along at the outset, those animals were meant for breeding, and no one could bear to slaughter and eat them now. Add to that the meagerness of variety, and the banquet was certainly nothing lavish. Yet plainly Viroday was not the sort of captious noble to find fault in such matters, and the goddess-priest Sandy and Count Kern, deputy commander of the knightly order, who had come with her, were both sensible folk. Not one of them thought the Cecil family's hospitality lacking in any respect.

More importantly, of course, everyone was generally too embarrassed to pick fault with the Xuanmai Sect—seven hundred years of seniority were on display here, after all.

After the handover of personnel was completed, Viroday and the other two would not remain here long, but before their departure Gao Yang would first take them on a tour of the camp. He was not worried that this would expose any of his secrets, for most of the projects here were still in their infancy; even a specialist would likely see nothing of note. And the two priests and one battlemage were hardly experts in such matters—they did not even know what a primitive furnace looked like, let alone understand the process by which Rebecca's crystal was fired in the kiln district.

And besides, displaying one's wealth and lands was the custom and the standard among the nobles of this world. Not taking them on a turn about the camp would only make the place seem suspect.

Naturally, he excluded the tent where the sphere was kept from the tour—that sphere was really rather difficult to explain...