Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 714 - 713: Speaking the Truth

Since that terrifying Artificial God became food for sea demons at the end of the White River, more than a month has passed, and the grass on Oblivion Association’s grave is almost a hundred meters tall...

This, in all kinds of ways, fits reality quite well.

Beltira seems to have awakened, but she is undoubtedly no longer a normal human being—her body has merged with this immense tree, mutated from inside out, affecting her thinking and language abilities: when she speaks, a deep and hoarse tone mixes in her voice, her speech is slow, her expression vacant, all of which inevitably reminds one of plants.

Gawain looked at her, although the situation before him was a bit beyond his initial expectations, he still finally had the chance to converse face-to-face with this "old acquaintance": "It’s a regrettable situation, Beltira—do you have anything you want to say to me?"

Beltira quietly looked at Gawain, and after two seconds of silence, she slowly said: "Outland Wanderer... I want to talk to you privately."

Gawain frowned, and after a brief contemplation, instructed those beside him: "You all go outside the hall to stand guard. Amber, you go too."

"Are you sure?" Amber immediately widened her eyes, "This woman looks creepy now, who knows what plots she might have..."

"No matter what plots she has, she probably can’t use them with her current appearance," Gawain waved his hand, "Don’t worry, I have my discretion—I’m quite curious about what she wants to say."

Amber thought for a moment and reluctantly agreed, while promising and leading the people out: "Alright, be careful."

Soon, the soldiers in the hall retreated outside under Amber’s lead, and Bard also left here. When only Gawain and a half-plant state Beltira were left, he lightly coughed twice: "Cough cough, you can say whatever you want now."

Gawain’s demeanor was calm, but in truth, he was a bit nervous inside—each meeting with these "old acquaintances" from seven hundred years ago made him cautious because, after all, he occupied a body that didn’t belong to him, and those "old acquaintances" from seven hundred years ago knew Gawain Cecil himself.

The first time he felt nervous in this regard was meeting Soldrin, then meeting Sonia, but those two didn’t pressure him too much since Soldrin’s personality wasn’t too meticulous, and Sonia focused mainly on urging Soldrin to marry. But Beltira before him was different—God knows what thoughts this woman, concealing a pile of secrets, might have upon realizing another soul inside Gawain Cecil...

Gawain quickly calculated in his mind, but all his calculations stopped when Beltira opened her mouth.

"Who exactly are you?"

Beltira fixed her gaze on Gawain’s eyes, her expression unprecedentedly serious, her tone full of caution and coldness.

Gawain’s alertness increased instantly, but his facial expression didn’t change at all: "What does that mean—you still can’t recognize me?"

"...No need to waste effort, I know you’re not Gawain Cecil," Beltira still stared intensely, "Outland Wanderer... What exactly are you? Why occupy this body?"

She had stopped asking "who" and boldly used terms like "what".

Upon hearing the words Outland Wanderer, Gawain abandoned the idea of continuing to communicate under the guise of this body’s identity.

The Beltira in dreams should just be a small part of the subconscious of the Beltira before him, lacking necessary memories and acquired intelligence, while the one before him wouldn’t be easy to coax. But it’s not a problem either, speaking openly instead allows him to communicate leisurely without laboring over his "role".

"Where did you hear that phrase ’Outland Wanderer’?" He spoke casually, "From those Eternal Sleepers?"

"It seems you are well aware of the name the Eternal Sleepers gave you..." Beltira said in a low voice, "I learned about your true identity from them, but long before that, I already knew you couldn’t be Gawain Cecil, but rather a foreign soul that has seized his body."

Gawain’s brow slightly raised: "What do you mean by that?"

Beltira’s lips seemed to show a hint of mockery: "Gawain Cecil cannot be resurrected; I am clearer about it than anyone else. His soul is long exhausted, and lying in the Southern Iron Coffin is just a soulless body, maybe this body doesn’t decay with the earth elementals’ blessing, but resurrection... impossible."

Gawain couldn’t help but widen his eyes slightly.

This was the first time since he rose from the coffin that he heard information about his resurrection secret from a third party. Although it’s just brief words, there’s no doubt... the Beltira before him knows part of the truth!!

"Gawain Cecil’s soul is exhausted? Why do you say that? What do you know? Do you know about the resurrection arrangements?"

However, Beltira didn’t answer his questions: "Ah, Outland Wanderer... You are curious too, but why should I tell you everything?"

Gawain quietly watched Beltira, observing her self-assured manner, or perhaps a demeanor of having abandoned life and death—even striking with a sword might be useless.

After musing for a moment, he spoke to break the silence: "Then an equivalent exchange—what do you want to learn from me?"

"Outland Wanderer, still that question," Beltira slowly said, "Why are you occupying this body?"

Gawain began to seriously ponder.

The other party is evidently aware of some information about Outland Wanderers—this persona Gawain crafted himself, and after the hyped-up post-processing by the Eternal Sleepers’ team, along with a little bit of discussion fermentation, the version conveyed to Beltira should be a more mysterious and dangerous one.

Now the best choice seems to be to find an entry point on this identity to continue the conversation.

He lowered his head and pondered what kind of "persona" he should establish, pondering what kind of "persona" could sway Beltira, this druid twisted by faith, his thoughts turning swiftly.

This doesn’t seem difficult, because... while the identity of the "Outland Wanderer" is somewhat intimidating, it’s not entirely false.

He is indeed a soul wandering from another world, indeed occupying someone else’s body, and indeed descending from the stars, conducting large-scale operations in this world.

He just didn’t do as those CGI shorts suggest, piloting massive robots to save the world or leading a group of mates scraping by on fifty bucks to clean up the stars, and these details are not important at the moment.

In his musings, he already had a mature draft in mind.

"Looks like we ’Wanderers’ have caused you quite a bit of stress," he lifted his head, sporting a relaxed and indifferent expression, "I don’t know how those Eternal Sleepers have described me and my kind to you, but I can assure you, I harbor no ill will towards this world."

Beltira furrowed her brow, clearly listening intently to Gawain’s words, yet filled with doubt.

"We are a curious and active kind, possessing various styles and hobbies, but personally..." Gawain continued speaking, observing Beltira’s expression and smiling slightly, "I’m only slightly interested in your civilization. Or more precisely, your civilization this season."

Beltira couldn’t help but speak up: "Our civilization this season—what do you mean by that?"

Perhaps still unaccustomed to her new "body" after becoming semi-plant, Beltira’s control over her expressions was always a bit lacking. Gawain observed her subtle expression changes, guiding this topic adeptly requiring some acting: "Seems like you’re aware of the civilization shifts that have occurred in your world?"

Beltira fell silent for a few seconds, murmuring, "...We have indeed discovered traces."

As Gawain expected, the Oblivion Association, aware of portions of the truth about the gods and parts of the defied Plan, is indeed somewhat informed about the civilization transitions and the phenomena of destruction and rebirth in this world.

"Civilization shifts... it’s a long-term observational process," with a calm expression, Gawain continued, "For a very long time, I was merely observing from a high place you probably can’t imagine—seeing kingdoms rise one after another on this land, heroes emerge one after another, legends born one after another, wars, prosperity, flourish, die, brilliance extinguished swiftly... For millions of years, nothing new happened on this land, even if occasionally dragons soared across, it was just a negligible episode in the mundane observation.

"But then, an interesting spark emerged among so many ups and downs of civilizations... which was your season.

"Not particularly strong, even full of shortcomings, but possessing astonishing courage and resilience for survival. When the chaotic wave arrived, I thought you would perish quickly, just like many previous seasons of civilization, falling quietly and fast, accepting the predetermined fate, yet you survived.

"You not only survived, but I was amazed to discover... you even attempted to oppose gods far mightier than you, and took action.

"In millions of years, the most incredible thing I’ve seen, truly surprising, yet amidst the surprise, your civilization this season remains precarious... Bold, yet faces difficulty in tackling upcoming challenges.

"Frankly, I find it quite regrettable, which is why I came down."

Gawain leisurely finished speaking, smiling while looking into Beltira’s eyes, forthright and sincere.

After all, almost everything he said was true, merely adding a touch of linguistic refinement to the facts.

For someone who has experienced faith distortion, these words should be very effective.

Beltira’s expression fluctuated several times, opening her mouth several times but stopping each time. After a long silence, she finally spoke: "So, all that’s happened on this land is just an entertainment in your long life? Then what is the nature of you ’Outland Wanderers’? Another type of god?"

"Don’t misunderstand, ’Outland Wanderer’ is the name you coined, I prefer to call myself a Traveler, and each journey is taken seriously," Gawain continued speaking truthfully, "As for gods... frankly, I’m quite curious about what the gods in your world truly are, researching them is my greatest interest at present."

Beltira’s expression seemed unchanged, but Gawain knew, every word he said was effective.

At the same time, he felt an inexplicable ease—a secret buried in his heart for so long got a chance to be expressed under such unforeseen circumstances, and the relief of speaking it out was unexpected.

Beltira knew from the start that Gawain Cecil couldn’t possibly be resurrected. In front of her, Gawain could candidly admit he’s a soul from elsewhere... despite having wholly accepted the identity of Gawain Cecil, even after receiving memory inheritance, becoming in a certain sense the real "Gawain Cecil," having such an opportunity to speak outside of that identity felt quite nice.

Beltira spoke again, seemingly finally swayed by Gawain’s words, believing the motives of this "Outland Wanderer," and asked following the topic: "Why did you choose the Cecil Clan, which was on the brink of dissolution, rather than a more robust force for accomplishing your ambitions?"

Gawain’s smile froze momentarily.

Damn, he didn’t have a choice!

If he could’ve made some moves upon coming down from the satellite, he definitely would’ve chosen a normal difficulty start—rather than crawling into a Southern Iron Coffin, getting smacked by a clumsy tin-headed beast upon climbing out, then emerging from a grave to a hell mode of "your base was stolen," "you’re resurrected weak," "your shield was snatched," "your last version was played in vain!"

But these words couldn’t be spoken by a powerful and mysterious "Outland Wanderer."

Thus, he could only maintain a proper and profound smile, and candidly respond to Beltira’s query:

"Because... it gives a sense of accomplishment."