Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 539 - 538: Brain-Computer Interface

Dark Mountain Range, observation post at the highest peak.

The telescope aimed at the great walls was adjusted by a tiny angle, and the boundless light screen in the distance reflected into the lens as a dim ripple. In the background of the light screen, a layer of thin mist floated in the vast Black Forest and Rotting Plains, rising gently, as if forming an ever-changing illusion.

The tall monitor turned around and reported to Gawain, who was standing behind him: "The brightness of the great walls is normal, signs of overload have been confirmed to subside."

Aunt Heidi and Amber were also present; the former stood beside Gawain while the latter, curious, had already crawled behind the telescope, peering through the lens at the barrier in the distance. Listening to the monitor’s report, Amber exclaimed: "It really looks like it’s back to normal!!"

"The barrier has been restored for over forty-eight hours now, with no signs of overload in between," Aunt Heidi said as she looked at Gawain. "That strange howling sound is also gone—Ancestor, it seems this wall has indeed restored."

"Restored? It won’t restore; it only keeps declining, and now it’s just temporarily calming down," Gawain, although relieved, could not be as optimistic as Aunt Heidi. "Repairing the great walls is almost impossible for the current kingdoms, even for elfs...I very much doubt if they can even rebuild a new sentinel tower. This barrier holds for now, perhaps because the elfs managed to use some special method to reboot the key systems, but the overall decline and damage of the systems are irreversible."

Gawain spoke calmly, memories from Gawain Cecil displayed this cold fact to him — according to Gawain Cecil’s memory, even before the elfs completed the last sentinel tower, the elven Mage tasked with designing the barrier had warned the heads of human kingdoms. That barrier was built with elf "ancient relics", its core components almost impossible to replicate; if damaged, there is no way to replace them.

This barrier has sailed like an injured giant ship in a storm-battered sea for the past seven hundred years, without spare parts, without retreat. In the vast sea, there’s no port where it could dock for repairs; it only keeps aging, keeps getting damaged, engineers patching its soon-to-be-extinguished engine and ever-cracking hull with patches, merely delaying its sinking.

The ones who initially built this barrier, those who experienced the second expansion, all knew this fact. Yet, nobody expected that even as the barrier neared its limits, humans still hadn’t found a solution to the chaotic wave, nor has the pollution over the Gondor wasteland fully dissipated — people never imagined this barrier, built with the combined strength of all kingdoms, might not even sustain through its first millennium.

And even more dire...humans, a race so short-lived and ever-changing, may have already forgotten what doom is sealed behind this wall.

"Continue monitoring, deactivate the alarm after twenty-four hours," Gawain made the final decision. "Designate this observation post as a key station, increase manpower by one shift. In the future, specifically monitor the dynamics of the great walls."

Aunt Heidi bowed deeply: "Yes."

No matter what, life goes on.

After returning to the feudal lord’s mansion, Gawain entered the study, pulled out a piece from a stack of letters, and began writing a personal letter.

Amber curiously leaned over to glance: "What are you writing?"

Gawain couldn’t help but look at this undisciplined and unrestrained half-elf: "Could you be a bit more disciplined? Although you’re familiar with me, this is still a confidential letter penned by the leader. Does it suit you to directly peek?"

Amber waved her hand boldly: "Hey, I know you well enough that if this really can’t be peered at, you would have flattened me against the wall long ago..."

Gawain: "..."

Why does it seem like this one takes pride in being slammed against the wall? Like Rebecca, proud of her resilience?

Amber had already caught the beginning of the letter Gawain was writing, immediately raising an eyebrow in surprise: "Ah, addressed to St. Soniel?"

Gawain kept his head down: "There’s an anomaly with the great walls; I must alert them."

Amber’s expression turned peculiar, she hesitated for a moment but couldn’t help saying: "Do you think they’ll heed your words? Last time, after you alerted them, there was little response. Now with them embroiled in an exhausting civil war, I’m afraid the southern voice is even less regarded."

Indeed, Cecil had just struck a major deal with Anzu Kingdom’s military, and the newly risen Cecil Clan had, in reality, returned to Anzu’s power stage. But the ’inertia’ of aristocratic circles is terrifying; will they truly heed Gawain’s warning?

Before the flames reach their doorstep, each aristocrat considers themselves the safest; this is their nature, decided by the reality of the feudal fragmentation.

The rise of Cecil Clan might indeed make them value every move of Gawain this Duke with real power more, but this ’attention’ is more a type of caution, not implying they will similarly value Gawain’s warnings about the wasteland — on the contrary, precisely because Cecil Clan has risen and has re-unified the southern borders, they’ll be more wary and guarded of any warnings from Gawain, only conjuring up a bunch of conspiracy theories.

"Honestly, I never expect they’ll care," Gawain shook his head hearing Amber’s words, "but it is my responsibility — I am the Guardian Duke."

This letter is to fulfill his responsibility, his duty after inheriting the body of Gawain Cecil, yet there’s another reason he did not disclose: he wants to ensure every future action of his leaves as little blemish as possible, leaving no pretext for antagonists.

Amber watched Gawain with a strange look, she felt she cannot comprehend this old man’s thoughts — but that’s not important, this guy is full of peculiar ideas, not many can truly understand.

If she were to sleep in a coffin for seven hundred years, her mind might end up more abnormal than Gawain’s.

Gawain finished writing the letter, carefully sealed it in a varnished tube, and used fire wax to complete the seal. He then handed it to Amber who was standing by: "Send someone to Rocky Ridges Fortress and have Sir Wald send it to the royal capital."

"Why not just use the Magic Web to send a copy directly to Rocky Ridges Fortress?" Amber asked curiously while taking the letter tube, "That would take so many days."

"This kind of letter needs to be the original handwritten version for safety reasons, and... the folks at St. Soniel might not recognize the Duke’s seal on a copy," Gawain shook his head helplessly, "The Administrative Office took so long adapting to the document transmission system, and they’re still not fully accustomed to it. You can’t expect St. Soniel to do better in this aspect than the Administrative Office."

"Tsk... those stubborn old folks. Compared to you, I think they’re the ones who seem to have been lying in a coffin for seven hundred years."

Gawain thought for a moment, feeling that Amber’s compliment seemed somewhat off, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why...

Just then, the voice of the young maid Betty suddenly came from outside the door, interrupting his conversation with Amber: "Master! Master Pittman is looking for you!"

Gawain was taken aback, then vaguely guessed something in his heart, and quickly said: "Let him in!"

The study door opened, and the old Druid, bending over with a smiling face, walked into the room. The little old man’s face was filled with a proud smile as he opened his mouth upon entering: "Leader—I bring good news."

"Looks like the neural link has been tested, then?" Gawain said with a seemingly anticipated smile, "It seems that this time the state of panic didn’t impact your research progress over there."

"Close the doors of the research institute, let the outside be flooded for all I care," Pittman said nonchalantly, "If researchers can’t maintain at least this level of focus, they might as well go home and plant potatoes."

Then he paused and continued: "I’ve already installed the newly manufactured neural link into that set of equipment that Kamel has been tinkering with. Would you like to have a look?"

"Of course," Gawain stood up suddenly, and immediately looked at Amber, "You too..."

Amber did not wait for him to reach out and grab her before she said proactively: "I must go with you—I’m very curious about the ’mental network’ you’ve been researching lately!"

Soon, Gawain and Amber arrived at the Magic Guide Technology Research Institute, in the laboratory specifically set for "Neural Interaction Link Technology." In the center of the laboratory, a brand-new connecting device had already been placed on the round table.

Kamel and Rebecca stood by this connecting device, while a dozen technicians in white robes were busy around, checking the condition of the connecting device or inspecting other magic symbol arrays connected to it.

Even Jenni, who didn’t usually leave the Rune Research Center often, was present: although her focus wasn’t on applied fields, she played a crucial role in analyzing the spells of the Eternal Sleepers and reconstructing the magic symbol arrays. She naturally contributed to the completion of the connecting device, and her presence in examining the finished product was only right.

Gawain nodded towards Jenni and Kamel, his gaze then shifted to the chair behind Rebecca: "Is this... the finished product?"

The connecting device wasn’t exactly as he initially envisioned—it looked completely unlike the magical devices of this era, resembling more like a product from a future transcending time and space. A silver-white pod was mounted on a large and sturdy base, and underneath the hollowed-out area extending from the backrest, several shimmering, whose texture appeared like metal ligaments, were connecting the backrest and the base. Inside the pod, a streamlined leather lining could be seen, covered with numerous metal contact points, linked together, displaying the distribution form of the spine.

Such a distinctive design certainly couldn’t be the style of contemporary mages—evidently, the Arcane Master Kamel from the Gondor Empire once again injected his remembered style into the magical creations of the Cecil Clan.

It stands out as an arcane punk.

It stands out since its visual style is quite unique.

Gawain didn’t mind the visual style—after all, there’s nothing on the Cecil land that’s visually normal, from people to things—as a pragmatist, he only cared about whether this thing worked well.

"We’ve already conducted all the offline and a portion of the online tests—it’s connected to the Magic Web Communication Network," a buzzing sound emanated from within Kamel’s body, his entire being glowing with a pleasurable light blue hue, indicating the Arcane Master’s rather positive mood, "Based on the Eternal Sleeper’s mental illusion technology, we’ve created a ’connection interface’ for this set of devices, this interface can stably run when connected to the Magic Web Communication Network, and protect the user’s consciousness."

Pittman added from the side: "I helped with this interface—luckily, my ’skills’ haven’t become rusty."

Gawain knew what Pittman’s "skills" referred to, but Amber listened in confusion: "Skills? What skills? Old man, do you have any skills other than counterfeiting and fortune-telling?"

"Don’t mess around, old-timer, I have plenty of skills," Pittman waved his hand, directly ignoring Amber’s words, then pointed at the three ’pipes’ beneath the chair, "These are the new neural links, made using the information you provided. Honestly, if given the chance, I must meet the person who designed it—they’re a talent—never thought that artificial neural links could indeed be transformed into non-implantable ones, this requires not only a moment of genius but also an extreme familiarity with the neural system and the neural link working process. Truth be told, such a person joining the research institute would certainly be more valuable than working independently outside."

"If someone has endured the after-effects caused by implantable neural links for over ten years, they’d naturally know the working process of neural links extremely well," Gawain sighed, "Rest assured, with this device, you’ll soon have the chance to meet the person who researched non-implantable neural links, but he probably has no opportunity to join our research system—his tasks aren’t any lighter than your research tasks."