News of the Dragon

Victoria nodded slightly at Gawain's words, while Grand Duke Baldwin next to her raised an eyebrow, "Do I need to excuse myself?"

"It doesn't matter," Gawain casually took a glass of red wine from a passing attendant's tray, then turned back to Victoria. "It's about Dragons."

"That's really just a rumor," Victoria said faintly, her demeanor as cool as the northern wind. Anyone who didn't know her might even find her unapproachable. "I've already sent people to investigate. Besides a drunkard that day, no one else saw the so-called Dragon. There were no other witnesses."

"I'm not talking about that one time, but about the past few hundred years in the north," Gawain looked into the Duchess's eyes. "How many rumors about Dragons have there been in the north since my death until now?"

Victoria's eyebrows lifted slightly, and Grand Duke Baldwin glanced at her curiously. "Speaking of which... stories about 'Dragon sightings' seem to be a 'specialty' of your north?"

"Stories about Dragons do occasionally circulate in the northern regions, and there are even small groups that worship Dragons, but that's basically just superstition among the mountain folk," Victoria shook her head. "The north is mountainous, and snowstorms are common in the mountains. The mountain people interpret those snowstorms as the roars of Dragons. Furthermore, the north borders the Holy Dragon Duchy, whose people consider themselves descendants of Dragons and hold Dragons as their official public faith. The mountain folk are greatly influenced by them, so it's natural for some strange stories to spread—but in reality, the Verde family has lived in the north for seven hundred years and has never truly seen a Dragon in the sky. Those stories are baseless."

"But now a real Dragon has appeared, flying right before my eyes," Gawain said calmly.

"If there really is a Dragon, I will notify you immediately," Victoria said faintly, and even seemed to smile. "I thought for a moment you were going to ask me to dance."

"I'll pass—I'm not good at it, and after seven hundred years, I don't know what modern dances look like anymore," Gawain shook his head with a smile and waved his hand. "You two carry on with your business. It's not comfortable to accompany a living fossil from seven hundred years ago like me. I'll just look around myself."

The expressions of both Dukes froze simultaneously (Victoria's was always somewhat stiff). Typically, this was something they would say to younger guests or minor nobles at a gathering. It was the first time in many years someone had said it to them, giving them a feeling of returning to childhood...

And yet, they couldn't refute it...

Watching the two contemporary Dukes leave, Gawain sighed softly in his heart.

It wasn't that easy after all—when he heard the Duke of the North mention rumors of Dragon sightings during the meeting earlier, he thought it was an important clue.

Dragons had been gone from this continent for too long, so long that there hadn't been a verifiable Dragon sighting recorded in nearly a thousand years. It was so long ago that these powerful creatures were almost mythical to most intelligent races on the continent. But for Gawain, who had spent countless years in the sky, Dragons were not unfamiliar.

After witnessing the Dragon, he sorted through his memories and counted all the instances where Dragons had appeared. After reviewing them, he found that almost all the Dragons came from the north.

Regardless of whether the time span was a thousand or ten thousand years, or whether one Dragon or a group of them arrived on the continent, they always crossed the northern mountain ranges first before entering the mainland's interior. And each time a Dragon appeared, they seemed to have a clear purpose—they would head straight for the depths of the continent, cause some disturbance, and then leave quickly, showing no inclination to sightsee.

It was just a pity that Gawain's view from the sky was limited. He could only see parts of the continent and a small coastline in the southern regions. He wasn't even sure how far north this continent extended, so he couldn't guess if those Dragons came from beyond the northern mountain barrier or from another continent across the even more distant sea.

However, he had a feeling—Dragons would definitely appear again.

Gawain and his retinue didn't stay in the royal capital for too long. They departed on the third day.

The aid promised by the King would take some time to be fully prepared: food and supplies couldn't be transported by land, as road travel would consume half of it through feeding men and horses. River transport would have to wait until the water levels of the Dorgon River on the Holy Spirit Plain rose in half a month. The team of one hundred craftsmen and apprentices also needed time to be assembled. The main reason was that they had to wait for the various guilds to nominate those difficult, powerless, and wronged individuals within their own ranks, and then select the hundred most unfortunate ones to be registered. This was also a time-consuming process. Ensuring these people could set off before the food was loaded onto the ships was already considered lightning fast.

Gawain couldn't wait for all this. He had finally obtained the Pioneer Right he desired, and he had a multitude of plans waiting to be implemented. After receiving a large stack of documents from the King, he eagerly left the royal capital.

He had traveled leisurely and wandered on his way here, but on the return trip, he rode at breakneck speed, wishing he could fly back directly. At this moment, Gawain sincerely envied the "teleportation spells" he had read about in many fantasy novels. If only there were teleportation spells, he could just open a portal and be home, without all this trouble.

It was a pity that on this Loren Continent, although magic existed, it wasn't as convenient as in the stories. The utilization of magic by various races was basically still at the level of conjuring a fireball to hurl at someone or compressing a piece of arcane energy to smack them in the face. Spells like teleportation and spatial storage weren't unrecorded, but they were basically legendary—for example, the primordial Elves, who had long since disappeared into the river of history, were said to have mastered teleportation technology. Some also said that Dragon Language Magic—the source of many spells in the world—had descriptions of spatial manipulation...

But unfortunately, no one had ever seen the real thing.

Meanwhile, Victoria Verde, the Duchess of the North, had already returned to her castle in the northern territory—Winterkeep Castle.

Dukes who guarded the kingdom's four borders could not leave their territories for extended periods. Although the situation in the north was more stable than in the east, it couldn't be without someone in charge. Therefore, after her first meeting with Gawain Cecil, Victoria Verde immediately departed Silver Castle and returned to her territory ahead of everyone else on the fastest Griffon.

Casually tossing her thick and warm silver fox cloak to a servant, Victoria strode quickly towards the depths of the castle.

She sat down in her office. A black-haired, black-eyed woman of ordinary appearance approached and placed a cup of hot tea on her desk, then came to stand behind her, skillfully massaging the Duchess's shoulders.

"You look very tired," the woman said, her voice low and reassuring.

"The Founding Grand Duke has truly been resurrected, the legendary Gawain Cecil," Victoria said in a low voice. "His appearance is identical, and the Pioneer's Sword is also identical. I boldly used a Lie Detection spell, and everything he said turned out to be true."

The woman, who appeared to be a maid, countered Victoria: "A skilled trickster can evade Lie Detection, and even if the magic works, it's not always reliable—magic always has a chance element, you can't rely on it too much."

Victoria shook her head, "Maggie, I also have my intuition."

"Intuition, you say..." the woman called Maggie mused for a moment. "Then what do you plan to do?"

"The resurrected great hero seems uninterested in intervening in the kingdom's current power structure; he just took back his Permanent Pioneer Right," Victoria stated her experiences in the royal capital with a calm expression. "What concerns me is his attitude towards the King. I thought the Founding Duke would place extreme importance on the legitimate bloodline of the Moen family, and even confront the current royal family on this issue. But he publicly acknowledged Francis II as a descendant of the founding ancestor... This caught me completely off guard."

"They must have contacted each other in private," Maggie paused her massage. "You were careless."

"Careless," Victoria frowned. "And now, His Majesty the King will likely be even harder to control..."

"Are you going to..."

"No," Victoria shook her head. "The Verde family wants Ansu to prosper forever, not power."

"So you don't plan to take any action?" Maggie continued the massage. "You are too gentle."

"I don't like my father's generation's way of doing things; it's no longer suitable for the current era," Victoria said, her gaze involuntarily lifting towards the wall opposite the room.

On that wall hung the Verde family crest, along with five portraits—portraits of the founding ancestor Charles I and the four Expansion Knights. These portraits were standard in the homes of various nobles in Ansu.

Next to the ancestral portraits of the Verde family was the portrait of Gawain Cecil. The majestic man, clad in armor and holding the Pioneer's Sword, gazed into the distance with a weathered expression, as if his gaze could pierce through time and space to see the distant future. This thought made Victoria recall his resurrection after seven hundred years, causing her to tremble slightly.

"Vicky?" Maggie's voice came from behind her.

"Put away Grand Duke Cecil's portrait," Victoria Verde said faintly. "It's not appropriate to hang it anymore."

"Put it away? Is that okay?"

"...He told me himself that he doesn't like being hung on a wall while he's still alive," Victoria's voice carried a hint of weariness. "He is an elder, and a good friend of my ancestors. I can't exactly disobey his words."

"Alright," Maggie nodded helplessly and walked towards the opposite side to prepare to take down the portrait.

At this moment, Victoria spoke again, "Oh, right, Maggie, you're from the mountains, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then do you know... about Dragons? What do you think of them?"

The black-haired, black-eyed woman stood with her back to Victoria. She paused slightly, then shook her head. "Just some boring legends."

"But a Dragon did appear in Cecil Territory in the south."

"Is that so?" Maggie reached out and took down Gawain Cecil's portrait. "That's probably not a good thing."