Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 671 - 670: Edge of the Whirlpool

Duke of the East, White Sand Dunes, Mine Station.

A temporarily erected sentinel tower stands on the high ground near the platform, vigilant sentinels and armored vehicles together safeguard this station, where a special freight train is parked beside platform number one. The rear half of the train consists of several open cargo chassis, some of which are already piled with goods, while the only empty chassis in the middle of the train is waiting to be loaded.

Accompanied by the low sound of mechanical operation, a large tractor, under the instruction of the guide, drives onto the high platform of the loading area. A giant tarp covers the heavy pallet dragged behind the tractor, obscuring the cargo inside, but judging from its massive size and vague outline, it’s likely not some ordinary ore or mechanical equipment.

On the platform, Pittman watches the final process of cargo transfer — the hooks of the lifting device are already connected to the pallet at the back of the tractor, engineers are replenishing energy for the Weight-Reduction Runes on the pallet, and half of the soldiers tasked with escorting have boarded the train. Two officers are leading the remaining soldiers to check the various parts of the train to ensure everything is perfect.

Beside Pittman, Holme, the manager of White Sand Mining, couldn’t help but click his tongue, "Honestly, this might be the least daring cargo to rob in the world..."

"But we still need tight prevention; lunatics like those from the Oblivion Association always exist," said a young female knight with a single ponytail, good figure, and heroic demeanor, sternly, "Especially since it requires a change of transport midway, extra caution is never excessive."

Pittman glanced at the female knight with a smile, "Miss Margarita, don’t always stay so tense— gentlemen don’t like ladies as hard as stones."

Margarita looked serious, "I am a Knight first, and then a woman."

"... same type as Sir Philip," Pittman’s lips twitched, muttering to himself, "Truly dull to talk to."

This female knight arrived in the White Sand Region today; she is ordered to escort the crucial cargo all the way to St. Soniel — it will be quite a long journey. Although advanced transportation has greatly shortened travel time, due to the limited range covered by chaotic magic tracks, she must first take her team by train to the Gran Region, then transfer people and goods onto freight ships. They will travel along the White River, passing Cecil, Kant, rocky ridges, crossing the entire Plains of the Holy Spirits, finally reaching St. Soniel — the overall journey is quite lengthy.

Her task is a key part of the King’s coronation.

The pressure of the task, coupled with her inherent personality, makes Miss Margarita always appear a bit tense. For Pittman, interacting with such people is quite uninteresting.

His muttering completely reached Margarita’s ears, prompting this earnest lady knight to turn her head and say seriously, "Master, if my manner of speaking displeases you, I apologize — I really am not a fun person. We still have to act together for a long time going forward; I will try not to impact your mood."

"No, no, no, your words bother me even more... how is this more severe than Sir Philip’s condition," Pittman waved his hand vigorously, and then sighed a bit, "But speaking of which, knights like you ’standard’ are not many in the Cecil Legion now; those who were promoted on the battlefield mostly never had time to learn your set of things..."

"Those knights promoted on the battlefield are more worthy of respect; their loyalty and bravery deserve their titles," Margarita said earnestly, "I once heard General Philip say this is a time already overturning dramatically, old things will be eliminated, new things will replace them; this is an inevitable trend. And regarding ’that set of things’ you mentioned... maybe some contents are already outdated, but loyalty and responsibility are always necessary, and they will continue in the new knights."

Pittman couldn’t help but size Margarita up and down, suddenly bringing forth a hint of nostalgia, "Young lady, you should be quite proud of your identity, right?"

Margarita straightened a bit, revealing a modest smile, "Perhaps many people think the identity of a knight merely signifies good origins, but I believe proving oneself worthy of this identity through hard work is a more pride-worthy matter."

She did not overly conceal her pride and arrogance but chose to express them modestly — this aligns with the knight etiquette standards because a qualified knight cannot avoid or hide their excellent traits; even if to show humility, these proud parts must be appropriately shown.

Upon hearing the other’s words, Pittman stared at Margarita for a moment, his usual carefree smile unknowingly restrained, he was slightly lost, seemingly suddenly trapped in some memory.

Margarita blinked puzzledly, glanced down at herself, confirmed her posture was fine, then spoke, "Master? Was there something wrong with my words just now?"

"No... I just suddenly thought of an old friend..." Pittman sighed softly and said leisurely, "He said similar things when I first met him years ago."

"Did you know a knight in your youth?" Margarita felt a hint of curiosity and then some anticipation, "Said similar words... I would like to meet that gentleman; he must be a respectable person."

"Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to meet a lovely lady like you; he died many years ago," Pittman shook his head, "And he only said similar words, his character wasn’t quite serious; even if he lived today, you wouldn’t expect him to be a senior version of Philip — more like Byron."

Margarita didn’t pay attention to Pittman’s later teasing, only pursed her lips somewhat regretfully, "Already passed away... sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up."

"No problem... it was many years ago; an old man like me won’t hold this against you," Pittman smiled pulling at the corners of his mouth, then turned around to look at the loading cargo, taking a deep breath, "And rather than those who have died... the living are more perplexing."

The clattering sound of hinge movement came from nearby, under the assistance of mechanical devices, after weight reduction, the cargo was placed in the middle of the train’s cargo chassis, soldiers stepped forward, maneuvering crowbars on the chassis’s locking devices, locking the cargo and train chassis with a clattering sound.

A gust of wind blew from the plains direction, lifting a corner of the tarp, in that instant, a part of the structure of a giant skull flashed through the gap in the tarp.

The whistle sounded on the platform, commanders began assembling soldiers, arranging the remaining personnel to board the train.

"The Gondor Empire era, huh... the thing that terrified that guy for half his life, in the end, it’s gone."

Pittman murmured softly, stepping toward his carriage.

Several mage apprentices waiting nearby immediately stepped forward, taking the old Druid’s staff, assisting his elderly bent body.

Margarita stood in place, watching the old Druid’s departing back with a hint of puzzlement, but she soon put these unrelated matters aside; this lady knight from Kant adjusted her attire, turned to nod at Holme, "Mr. Holme, we’ll be departing now — thank you for your assistance, wishing you success in your upcoming tasks."

Holme smiled slightly, removed his hat in salute, "Safe travels, lady knight."

Accompanied by a loud whistle and the continuous low hum of magic symbols, the massive cargo train slowly started up, accelerating along the direction of the platform, heading west.

Holme watched this special "train" depart, then turned around and walked towards the outside of the platform.

He had much to do—

The sampling of the body of the fake god was complete, the valuable experimental samples were sent back to Cecil Castle in batches a few days ago, and the remaining flesh and bones were thoroughly cut up. The skull would be transported to St. Soniel to be offered to the emperor, while the other bone remnants would be sent to the southern borders, divided among several research facilities or secret warehouses for long-term study.

Upon learning the truth behind those remnants, this mine manager, once a slave laborer, felt a chill down his spine, unable to sleep all night after returning to the mine. However, after seeing the cut-up flesh and bones, his fear faded away, leaving only lament—

The power of the gods has been stolen by humans, copied by humans, and ultimately destroyed by humans. This world... is really about to be turned upside down.

As someone who was never religious, Holme now had to deal with the site left behind after the body of the fake god was transported away.

An assistant wearing a black short jacket came over and asked, "Sir, did the higher-ups mention how to handle that big pit?"

After transporting away the body of the fake god, a massive pit appeared between the mine and the river, so large that it became a headache. Filling it in was unrealistic, but thinking of its use, the mining company’s assistants couldn’t come up with any ideas for the time being.

"Let’s first survey the soil and topography around the pit. Mr. Blues will lead the engineering team over tomorrow," Holme nodded and said, "The Administrative Office already has a plan—to divert the water from the White River into the pit, creating an artificial lake, making it more convenient for the mine to draw water, and residential areas can be built around the lake. The Duke of the East is already ours, no need to consider the original development agreement signed with the Loland Clan. This mining area... it’s time to expand its scale."

The assistant widened his eyes in surprise: "An artificial lake?"

"Yes, the name’s already decided, we’ll call it White Sand Lake," Holme turned his head to look in the direction of the mining area and shrugged, "I originally thought we’d have to blast here for three to five more years to create a lake, but our friends from the deep sea helped us out by making a pit ahead of time..."

...

Gentle waves lapped against the beach, against the massive alloy bastions set at the beach’s edge, with bright sunlight illuminating the white sand, the Zenith Fleet, rocks, sentinel towers, and the friends from the deep sea scattered among these things.

The friends from the deep sea lay sprawled across the beach, as lazy as the afternoon sun itself.

Thousands of mermaids lay on the sand sunbathing, creating a spectacular scene.

Amid this lazy and leisurely atmosphere, the voice of a sea demon came over the loud-speaker equipment set up around the beach: "Thirty minutes are up, everyone flip over!"

A small number of sea demons lifted their heads to look, and a few responders stretched lazily, then with a smack of their tails on the sand, rolled over on the spot, but most of the sea demons didn’t even raise their heads, continuing to bask their tails and bodies in the lethargic sunlight, too lazy to even flip over.

The sea demon broadcasting the command didn’t speak again—apparently too lazy to remind them a second time.

At the engine platform at the rear end of the Zenith Fleet extending to land, Sea Demon Queen Petia glanced at the scene on the beach, her long snake tail gently swaying: "Having sisters rotate in three batches for feeding was correct... The impurities mixed in those foods require more effort to filter and purify, they amplify our ’lethargy effect’ after feeding."

For sea demons, sunbathing after feasting isn’t inherent laziness, but a normal physiological process—in order to convert those unfamiliar energies and substances, they must rely on the chaotic magic radiation from the great sun, since they themselves don’t have the ability to process those energies.

In fact, even sunbathing to convert energy and substances is the result of their adaptation and evolution after arriving in this world. Before coming to this world, sea demons had no concept of "sunbathing."

In the world they originally lived in, there was no sun to bathe in, only endless ocean, and almost relentless storms, thunder, and lightning.

"There are indeed many impurities in the new food, yet they bring us precious energy supplements and entirely new primal energy samples," a sea demon with long blue hair and prominent scales on her cheeks said beside her, "Through practical testing, after absorbing the new energy samples and undergoing adaptive transformation, all sisters have improved adaptation abilities to this world, and combined with the pure arcane energy provided by Rainbow Light Technology as assistance, many sisters have already faintly sensed what is known as ’magic power.’"

"Magic power..." Petia said softly, lowering her head and rubbing her fingers.

A small cluster of Arcane Sparks burst forth from her slender fingertips, brief but bright.

"It’s a world quite unsuitable for sea demons, but finally... we can slowly make it feel like home."

"As you say."

"Hesterwe, when you contact Tiel next time, inform them to upgrade the ’Cecil’ human clan to level two contact standard," Petia said, "We would be pleased to share our ocean knowledge with our terrestrial friends—if they ever have the courage to challenge the ocean."

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