Although Gawain still knows very little about the deepest secrets behind the gods so far, thanks to the tireless efforts of several research teams in recent years, he has at least identified several extremely effective means of bating divine corruption. These range from the original sea demons runes to the subsequent Song of the Deep Sea and the Humanity Barrier, and to the currently being verified Anti-Divine Barrier technology centered around "Non-directional Thought Trend." These technologies build upon one another, gradually revealing effective directions for the future—
The runes and songs of the sea demons ultimately e from another race, and there are many black box ponents in their principles. In contrast, the Non-directional Thought Trend originates from the Cecil Clan itself, with a clearly distinguishable technical route, and the development potential of both is self-evident. The most important foundation behind the Non-directional Thought Trend is the Narrator Neural Network. The essence of the neural network is a massive structure formed by a sufficient number of interconnected mortal minds, using the unordered subconsciousness of countless mortals to resist divine erosion. This means that the larger the neural network, the stronger its ability to resist divinity—based on this theory, establishing a worldwide neural network to incorporate more mortal minds is almost inevitable.
In fact, this is also the important reason why Gawain is determined to build a "united front" and draw various large and small countries on the continent into allies: even the weakest kingdoms can provide effective strength within the neural network.
There are strong and weak countries, wise and foolish people, and even advanced and backward civilizations in different regions. This is why many people do not understand Gawain’s motivation to pull even those seemingly insignificant backward small countries onto the bandwagon. In their view, some regions are just like dead weight, pulling them on would only increase costs. Even within Cecil, such sentiments are not unmon—but Gawain knows very well that on the battlefield against divine pollution, all mortals are truly equal; population itself is... wealth.
Rebecca may not understand some of her ancestor’s overly profound thoughts, but at least in this technical field, her thinking is as clear and sharp as Gawain’s. Noticing several changes in Gawain’s expression, she couldn’t help but say: "If the elves could directly modify their munication facilities to use our Magic Web technology, that would be great..."
"It’s a good thought, but unfortunately not feasible," Gawain sighed with a smile. "The elves’ sentinel data chain is vast in scope and technologically mature and highly integrated with the great walls, making large-scale modifications far costlier and riskier than imaginable. Even a strong nation like the Silver Empire would not easily attempt it. In the best case, they might upgrade certain interfaces in their national munication network and produce Immersion Capsules that meet the Silver Empire’s standards. Although troublesome, at least the neural network could extend over there..."
"Is Typhon not as cooperative?" Rebecca scratched her head — her hair was even messier than before. "I thought you and Emperor Rosetta Augustus were getting along well."
Gawain looked into Rebecca’s eyes, his soft smile tinged with seriousness: "Silly girl—remember, there’s no such thing as ’intimate relationship’ between countries; there are only temporary alliances of interests and limited mutual trust based on shared interests. Never think a country can be wholeheartedly trusted just because its leader appears friendly. In fact, even if Emperor Rosetta and I are ’kindred spirits’ to some extent, both of us will always prioritize our national interests. Even when we consider each other, it’s merely because the field happens to be a shared goal with no immediate conflict between Typhon and Cecil.
"But that doesn’t mean we’re pseudo-agreements or engaging in deceitful diplomacy. We’re just fulfilling our responsibilities and being accountable to our nations.
"To return to Typhon’s attitude towards munication technology... After establishing the technical exchange channels, Rosetta should realize the significance of the ’Anti-Divine Barrier,’ but he certainly won’t let us reach too far—he’s already suffered losses with the railways. According to reports from there, Aldernon is tightening its investment and development interfaces for domestic railways, which suggests they’ve somewhat e to their senses on this matter.
"So, although Rosetta has already expressed he would consider Cecil’s munication technology, I estimate that at most, he’ll allow an ’interface’ similar to the one between our country and the Silver Empire, or allow a few Magic Web munications facilities in select areas domestically. Overall, Typhon Empire’s munication tower arrays will continue to operate, as even if Rosetta was determined to discard them, Typhon’s treasury probably couldn’t allow it.
"In the best scenario, the three munication technologies on the Loren Continent will coexist for a long time: Cecil’s Magic Web munication, Typhon’s munication tower network, and the Silver Empire’s sentinel data chain. What we should do now isn’t to expect the other two munication technologies to disappear actively but to think about how to make the existing divine protection technologies effective in all three network environments—rest assured, the old technologies will fade away, it just takes time."
Rebecca frowned. She understood Gawain’s words but didn’t particularly like the answer. "I get it, I really do...but it’s certainly going to cost extra. Ah...I thought the alliance formation would make countries a bit more united..."
Gawain smiled, pressing Rebecca’s hair: "Do you know porcupines?"
Suddenly, Rebecca’s eyes lit up: "Oh, I know! They’re delicious! I used to sneak into the mountains as a child...um...you’re probably not referring to this?"
Gawain was momentarily at a loss but quickly regained his venerable ancestor’s demeanor, having grown accustomed to Rebecca’s uncontrollable train of thought: "...What I’m trying to say is that human countries are like porcupines clustering together for warmth—everyone needs to endure this long winter, but everyone has protective quills. The world is dangerous, we can’t just remove our quills, so what we can do is find that small balance between quills and warmth. It certainly requires extra effort, but that is the nature of mortals...weak, cautious, able to band together, yet not adept at doing so porcupines."
Rebecca listened to Gawain’s words in a daze, seemingly realizing many things at that moment. She then softly asked: "Is the alliance you built running like this?"
Gawain nodded: "That’s exactly how the alliance operates."
Rebecca left with a contemplative expression, and after she walked away, Amber’s voice suddenly came from beside Gawain: "It seems like she suddenly has a lot on her mind."
Gawain smiled and sighed lightly: "Perhaps the answer I gave didn’t quite match her expectations."
"Because she sees you as too great, so great that you can alter the fates of many, she views the ’alliance’ you’ve forged as something equally grand—a luminous miracle forged by a heroic epic, flawless," Amber said, her smile carrying a hint of amusement as she looked at the distant Rebecca. "But this alliance isn’t so grand; it’s just a cluster of porcupines."
"I don’t need to be so grand. Being overly grand makes you like gods," Gawain shook his head, then glanced in the direction of the nearby silver elves team, "The process is reaching its end, we should probably head back...and run a little errand for me."
...
The final processes had concluded, and a convoy of magic-guided vehicles carrying the representatives of various nations began the journey from the assembly point on the plains. The grand convoy moved along a temporarily constructed road, heading towards 112 Elf Outpost under the fluttering alliance flags lining the road. At the end of the convoy, a magic-guided vehicle bearing the Cecil banner stopped at the roadside, and a figure with golden hair bent low to get into the partment.
In the back of the magic-guided vehicle, Gawain looked at the Silver Empress who had just taken a seat opposite him and greeted with a smile: "Good afternoon, Belsetia."
"Good afternoon, Uncle Gawain," Belsetia glanced outside the window at the retreating scenery, then turned back to Gawain with a smile. "I was surprised when I received the note from Miss Amber; do you have something you want to discuss with me privately on the return trip? You know, after the meeting, the Silver Empress and the Emperor of Cecil traveling back in the same vehicle will surely draw a lot of attention—who knows how many speculations on the shifting situation will be deduced by intelligence personnel in various countries."
"The Emperor of the Cecil Clan and the Silver Empress have known each other for seven hundred years—let’s hope when they imagine things, they start with that point," Gawain said casually. "Moreover, when everyone gathers back at Elf Outpost No. 112 and then I ask to speak to you privately, it would attract no less attention than it does now."
"True, those eyes haven’t suddenly fallen on us; they’ve never left from the beginning," Queen Belsetia replied, turning her head slightly to glance at the driver’s seat of the Mage-guided Vehicle. Seeing Amber gripping the steering wheel and control stick tightly, her expression immediately turned serious. "The Minister of Intelligence driving personally... it seems what you want to discuss with me isn’t simple."
Gawain looked at Belsetia.
The 112 Conference had already ended. The alliance had been formed, the theocracy Authority Council had been established, and the Silver Empire had boarded this chariot. The subsequent technological sharing and joint construction would follow... the time was ripe, and it was time to talk about certain matters.
"Do you remember what we talked about on our first day here?" Gawain asked.
Belsetia was momentarily taken aback; a certain intuition arose in her heart, making her faintly realize something: "About the religious history of elves, the evolution of the Druid religion, the conflicts within natural faith and heterodox nature beliefs?"
"Let’s continue that topic now," Gawain nodded, his gaze fixated on Belsetia’s eyes. "If you were given a chance to speak with the God of Nature personally—what would you say?"
The Silver Empress, who had maintained her calm and posed demeanor, suddenly stiffened, as if a bone-chilling cold suddenly swept across the carriage. This empire ruler’s expression seemed frozen, and it was only after a few seconds that her expression showed slight changes, bringing with it a delayed surprise and some nervousness: "You... what did you say? Speak with the God of Nature... personally? The God of Nature you mentioned, He is..."
"Amoen, the Giant Stag, the Guardian under the ’Samsara’ Great Tree, Sovereign of Nature, the original main deity of the Druid orthodoxy."
"Are you serious?" The Silver Empress finally calmed down. She stared into Gawain’s eyes, as if still trying to find some element of a joke in them. "You mean... but how is this possible? And even if He still exists, how can mortals directly municate with deities..."
"Ordinary mortals can’t, but Wanderers from the Outer Realm can," Gawain said, and outside the car window beside him, a slanted sunset poured down from above the distant wasteland mountains, shining on the retreating flagpoles, with the Alliance Flag flying high in the sunlight. "To fight against this cold world, your Uncle Gawain has prepared more than one card."
The Silver Empress’s expression shifted from surprise, stagnation, to gradually returning to normal. She was thinking, deducing, and finally, all the emotional changes were replaced by a certain determination. It was as if she made the most important decision of her life, breaking the silence only after taking a deep breath: "Once I return to the town, I will immediately arrange everything. Valendian will return to his country first, while I will go with you to the Cecil Nation—rest assured, I will e up with a prehensive reason, and this matter will definitely not be made public."
...
The holographic projection over the Magic Web Terminal displayed a distant landscape, the voice narrating from outside the frame carried an upbeat and cheerful tone. Amoen blinked his eyes that were like orbs of light and gave a long sigh: "Their meeting is finally over... Fortunately, we didn’t miss the final broadcast."
"Yes, yes, we didn’t miss the broadcast, of course we wouldn’t miss it, after all, every channel is showing the same thing. Even the latest episode of ’Modir’s Adventure Chronicles’ was canceled—this was the extended episode every Friday!" Emmeline’s voice came from the side, filled with heavy plaints, "I hope they can make up for it before next month’s rest day."
Amoen, unable to move his body, could only glance at the constantly plaining lady, "You should reduce your plaints and infatuation with Magic Shadow Dramas and instead put your limited energy into more meaningful programs. Don’t you think this meeting was very valuable? Especially the final mention of the ’theocracy Authority Council’... it’s a pity that the ’expert’ only mentioned it in one sentence, vaguely stating such an organization was established, without explaining its role in detail..."
Amoen murmured, and Emmeline was finally aroused with slight interest. The Goddess of Magic thought for a moment, her voice being faint: "The theocracy Authority Council... indeed, just hearing the name makes one curious. It seems like it has a significant relationship with us, like those mortals are preparing to acplish something major... but alas, the entire broadcast only mentioned this one sentence."
"Based on my summary over these days," Amoen thought for a moment and then suddenly said, "The fewer words used in a mortal’s ’news,’ usually the bigger the issue. They only mentioned the theocracy Authority Council once, so this matter appears to be exceptionally significant."
Listening to the well-reasoned analysis of this former God of Nature, Emmeline just shrugged nonchalantly and continued to lament over her canceled drama series. However, she had only lamented for a few seconds when she heard Amoen suddenly uttering a sound: "Hmm?!"
Emmeline immediately turned towards him, "What is it?"
"I... just felt a sudden... weird sensation on my body," Amoen hesitated, "It seemed like a chill? Or maybe I wanted to shiver? In any case, it feels like something similar... as if something concerning me is about to happen..."
Emmeline quickly restrained her relaxed demeanor, turned extremely serious: "Are you sure? This isn’t a small matter—such ’intuition’ of gods is akin to foreknowledge, especially when it pertains to oneself..."
"I’m not sure, I’ve been detached from the divine seat for three thousand years, I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I last had such a sensation," Amoen said in a somewhat muffled voice, followed by a sudden peculiar change in his tone: "Wait... uh-oh, something seems amiss."
"What happened now?"
Amoen’s voice carried a certain despair: "...the weird sensation has diminished, but my back seems a bit itchy..."
(The squid has started a new book!!!)
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