Once again, the garden fell silent, and in that silence, Gawain stared at the Silver Empress for a long time, speculating about her true intentions at that moment—although he thought he had a rough idea, he always felt as if he was overlooking something.
The Silver Empress also observed Gawain in silence, her platinum eyes deep as water. No one knew what she saw from Gawain at that moment, nor what she wished to see—after several seconds of silence, she softly spoke, "From the perspective of the Silver Empress, I don’t need to confirm whether you are truly Uncle Gawain—I am merely dealing with the ruler of the newly risen human empire in the north of the continent. Therefore, all I need to know is what kind of ally you are."
Gawain looked into the Silver Empress’s eyes: "But everything you just mentioned could be an illusion."
"Every action taken by a ruler can be an illusion, and in this regard, whether you are an ’Outland Wanderer’ makes no difference," the Silver Empress said lightly. "The key lies in my judgment—if I make the wrong judgment, then naturally I must bear the ensuing cost."
"...Rest assured, your judgment is correct. I will be more reliable than you imagine," Gawain said, then shifted the topic smoothly, "But I still have doubts—you answered my question from the perspective of the ’Silver Empress’, but as Beltira, how do your emotions judge? I sit before you, my essence being that of a stranger. To be frank, for anyone else, this would likely be hard to accept."
Beltira uncharacteristically pursed her lips, as if answering this question even for her was particularly difficult. After a brief hesitation, she broke the silence: "So I’m curious, how much of you is Gawain Cecil? How exactly do you occupy... this body, and how do you perceive all that this body possesses?"
Gawain picked up the pletely cooled black tea, the liquid in the teacup reflecting a fine reddish-golden glow in the sunlight. He looked at Beltira and suddenly asked, "Do you still like sneaking an extra dessert after dinner?"
A peculiar expression flashed across Beltira’s face momentarily, then she said plainly, "I still have this habit—but it’s no longer sneaky. As the Silver Empress, I’ve made it a rule in the palace cuisine."
"Ah, so you finally achieved your ’great ambition’ from back then," Gawain was startled for a moment, then burst into a cheerful laugh, "Back then, when you tugged on my sleeve to talk about your future plans for ruling the empire, one of the most important things you mentioned was ’to legislate that dessert must be served after dinner once I truly hold power, just like in human courts’."
"...How much more do you know?"
"Almost everything Gawain Cecil knew," Gawain pointed to his head, "This is what I wanted to say—you say I ’occupy’ this body, but that might not be entirely correct. Strictly speaking, his memories and personality have integrated into my consciousness. I possess almost all of Gawain Cecil’s memories, as clearly as if I lived them myself. I know everything connected to you, recalling even the emotions felt at that time vividly. Sometimes, I even question myself: how much have these memories and emotions influenced me? Am I my plete self, or a newly formed individual reborn through fusion?"
He gazed into Beltira’s eyes.
"Perhaps, in a sense, Gawain Cecil truly has been resurrected—his entire memory and personality have returned to this world, it’s just... these memories and personality now form part of a larger consciousness, and I am that more expansive consciousness."
"This sounds like a mathematical concept, a set and a subset," Beltira pondered seriously, her expression revealing no true emotion, but in the end, she lifted the corners of her lips, looking at Gawain with a half-smile, "Did you say this to fort me or to seek further trust?"
"That’s your judgment. I speak candidly, but as you said, everything done by every ruler can be an illusion—even expanding a bit, everyone is like this," Gawain spread his hands, "How to judge is up to you."
Beltira studied Gawain’s eyes carefully, suddenly as if shifting the topic: "You mentioned you not only have all of Gawain Cecil’s memories but even the emotional impressions from back then—so in your memory, what were ’your’ feelings towards me at that time?"
"Charming and lively," Gawain thought for a moment and said sincerely, "And a mind full of fantastic ideas."
"Is that so?" Beltira smiled deeper, "If that’s your answer, then I might need to reassess your level of candor..."
Gawain sighed and began counting on his fingers: "Alright, the primary thoughts at the time were about when this little rascal would finally go home, when she’d had enough of playing, where her family was, why she hadn’t eaten enough, why she wasn’t tired from running, why she wasn’t going home to sleep, why she wasn’t bothering Selena or the Augustus family, where she’d wandered off to—when it suddenly got quiet, I worried she was up to no good?!"
After finishing, he sighed again, looking at Beltira, whose expression seemed a bit dazed. He spread his hands: "This is what you wanted me to say, if Charlie or Roland could crawl out, they’d probably say rougher things than I just did."
"I considered it but didn’t expect it to..." Beltira blinked, suddenly laughter spilling from her lips—though she wore a smile most of the time, this time, her smile seemed quite different, spreading across her refined features as if reflecting the clear sky of an afternoon, "Truly... it’s been countless years since I last heard such an evaluation."
"Back then, my biggest worry wasn’t you causing sudden chaos, but rather you suddenly quieting down—your every moment of silence harbored a grand scheme that would at least have a hundred people scrambling. I even suspected at one point whether the Elven Royal Court’s judgment in choosing an heir was flawed—but surprisingly, in official settings like treaty ratification ceremonies, you acted quite appropriately, even remarkably," Gawain mused as he recalled, "Perhaps even then you were already exhibiting the qualified talent of the Silver Empress? Anyway, seeing your appearance today, I find it quite surprising."
"Being the Silver Empress and the Supreme Priestess is a very tedious affair, especially for someone like me back then," Beltira reminisced, her fingers unconsciously stroking the gilded edge of the china cup, "I had to be well-behaved in the Royal Court, so when I encountered the pioneer camps, I was... a bit too relaxed. You gave me a remarkably novel impression at the time; I’d never seen leaders as peaceful and casual, even amusing as you were, and even the usually stern Uncle Snow would use ice sculpture tricks to ’set the mood’."
"It’s perfectly normal; the pioneer leaders back then weren’t from any strictly defined elite noble class. The actual ’elite nobles’ had all died in the Imperial Capital explosion," Gawain said, "Even Snow... he wasn’t truly a severe and rigid person, he just had a stiff face."
Beltira suddenly fell silent at this point, gazing intently into Gawain’s eyes. This kind of scrutiny quickly made Gawain feel a bit unfortable: "What is it?"
"You speak very naturally in the tone of Uncle Gawain. Is it already a habit you’ve developed? Or is it that sort of... ’influence’ you mentioned earlier?"
"It’s hard to say," Gawain replied honestly, "It’s indeed bee a habit of mine, but I don’t know how much of it is influenced by inheriting those memories and personalities."
Beltira was silent for a few more seconds, seemingly contemplating something carefully, before abruptly stating, "I am no longer a child."
Gawain tried to grasp the deeper meaning behind this inexplicable remark from the other party, hesitatingly said, "So, you won’t just be fooled by what I said earlier, is that what you mean?"
"No," Queen Belsetia shook her head, removed her finger from the teacup, letting the liquid inside ripple gently. "I mean—children get upset when the gifts they receive differ from their imagination, they get caught up when things don’t turn out ideally, and they sulk over details and irreparable reality, but I’m not one of them."
She raised her head, looked at Gawain, and extended a hand: "You are not Uncle Gawain, but you can at least be considered ’half Uncle Gawain.’ No matter what, wele back to this world—it’s still in need of you."
Gawain was a bit dazed. To be honest, he still felt he couldn’t quite follow the thought process of the Silver Empress. This empress, who had ruled the Elven Empire for seven centuries, might be the most inscrutable mortal he’d encountered since awakening in this world—those inexplicable gods clearly couldn’t be used for parison—but he still reached out a hand to gently grasp hers.
Then Belsetia sat back down, her gaze falling on the teacups in front of herself and Gawain: "The tea has gone cold—shall we have a fresh cup? The tea from the Highmountain Kingdom is best served hot."
"Of course, thank you."
Belsetia raised her finger and lightly traced a magic symbol in the air. Moments later, two powerful elf maids appeared silently in the garden to replace the tea for the host and guest at the round table. Belsetia then pointed to one of the elves and said, "Uncle Gawain, do you remember her?"
Gawain furrowed his brow as he scrutinized the elf, finally extracting some vague outlines from his memory: "...The little troublemaker who used to go around with you? I remember her name is Yilian..."
"That’s her, Yilian—well, it looks like we indeed caused you a lot of trouble back then," Belsetia said somewhat helplessly, "Seven centuries have passed, it seems we need to rebuild our impressions of each other. I want to say that Yilian was very happy to learn about your revival, and she’s been looking forward to meeting you."
"Very glad to see you again," the powerful maid said with a smile, though there was a hint of shame, "Sorry, back then..."
"It’s okay, I’m very glad to see you too," Gawain interrupted, "Seeing familiar faces is always a good thing; looking back at those times, I only find them amusing now."
The powerful maid laughed again, and Gawain lifted the teacup before him—he could finally relax and enjoy some of the fine tea from the Highmountain Kingdom.
The giant sun gradually approached the ridge on the west side of the town over time, adding a hint of pale red to the sunlight as the edges of clouds were illuminated by the setting sun. It was time for Gawain to say goodbye and leave.
He and Belsetia chatted about many past events; in the latter half of the afternoon tea, they didn’t discuss gods, the church, nor the grand plans for the continent’s future until Gawain stood up, ready to head toward the garden exit. Belsetia suddenly said, "Uncle Gawain, how confident are you about how many countries are willing to join the ’theocracy Authority Council’ you’ve planned?"
Gawain’s steps paused, he slightly turned his head back: "I have no confidence, I’m merely pelled to act."
"Well, you can add a bit of confidence now," the Silver Empress said behind him, "As I mentioned earlier, the Silver Empire will support you—also in ’this matter.’
"Aren’t you worried about weakening the Elven Royal Court’s control over the theocracy?" Although Gawain had guessed this oute upon hearing about the Druidic Sect, he couldn’t help but ask.
"My authority is derived from the Empire’s politics, economy, and military—not from the decorative title of ’Supreme Priestess’—the White Starfall is three thousand years past." The Silver Empress said.
All along, the elves lacked a prehensive understanding of the threats they faced, and now Gawain could offer a systematic plan, an opportunity she clearly didn’t intend to miss.
Gawain naturally realized this too, so he just gently nodded: "In that case, I can rest easy."
...
The sunset had lowered, Elf Outpost No. 112 was gradually shrouded in a layer of indifferent orange-red, Gawain arrived on the avenue outside the Oak Hall, and Amber’s figure gradually emerged from the air beside him.
"Hey, hey, do you think she noticed me?" As soon as she jumped to the ground, Amber sidled over, whispering softly, "I kept feeling like she was glancing at me several times during the meeting..."
Gawain glanced at this tense intelligence chief: "Are you still not confident in your shadow manipulation abilities?"
"...Well, then I guess she didn’t notice," Amber thought for a moment, shaking her head, "I tried everything. Besides you as a legendary figure, only a handful of powerful Order Supernatural individuals with unique abilities can spot me when I’ve entered the edge of shadow state—that Silver Empress isn’t at legendary level; she’s at most powerful."
"Your tone makes it sound like ’powerful’ is nothing," Gawain couldn’t help but ment, "As a leader with limited energy, being ’powerful’ is already terrifying, okay? Do you think every king and emperor in the world is legendary?"
"...That’s true," Amber thought for a moment, had to nod, and then suddenly seemed to remember something, her eyes lighting up, "Ah, yes! You, as a legendary figure among a bunch of national leaders, are unique, so during meetings, you don’t even need to station five hundred White Knights outside the window; you could take them down with an eggplant in your pocket..."
Gawain: "??"
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