All along, Cecil and Typhon have been on different technological paths—the former embarked on a new route of Magic Technology, while the latter advanced the potential and application of Transcendents to a higher level. In the short term, the advantages of both remain hard to distinguish, and Gawain had never thought that there would be a day when these two technological routes might intersect.
Unfortunately, working on the talents of Transcendents, attempting to select "low-talent individuals" from ordinary people, and using potions, rituals, and training to catalyze them into genuine Transcendents with a narrow application has always been Typhon’s specialty. Cecil’s research in this area is non-existent.
The Eternal Sleepers have always been active in Typhon, so when faced with a shortage of suitable personnel for Psychic Singers, Wendy’s first thought was of Typhon’s alchemical potions and catalysis technology. However, when it came to the actual details of these technologies, clearly, she couldn’t know them.
"These things are military secrets, held by the Typhon Royal Family and a few major military aristocrats. The specific catalysis technology is just the same, and even if you have these things, you still need a matching training method; otherwise, the tester is extremely prone to danger," Yuri, having some experience from being a Typhon aristocrat, despite having left that aristocratic circle when mass-produced superhuman technology matured in Typhon, evidently knew more of the internal information than Wendy, "I don’t think we can obtain these data in a short time..."
Gawain’s expression became serious, he rubbed his chin, while Aunt Heidi softly said, "Do you think over at number twenty-five..."
Gawain thought for a moment and slowly shook his head.
Indeed, his first thought was of Daniel, who had infiltrated the upper echelons of Typhon—as the most successful spy within Cecil’s intelligence network, Daniel indeed had the qualification to access many unimaginable secrets. Yet precisely because of this, the information he could gather would be highly specialized and would e with a higher risk of exposure. Currently, Daniel could involve himself mostly in fields under Typhon’s "Imperial Construction Association," and at most rely on personal contacts to inquire about rumors among upper aristocrats and mage scholars. Logically, it was unlikely for him to access mass-produced superhuman technology unrelated to his field of research.
Of course, one could take some risks and have Daniel steal information in this area, but Gawain thought the risks were too significant—Typhon’s Wanderer agents aren’t fools, and Emperor Rosetta Augustus is a cautious person. Recently, with the tense situation in Aldernon, many spies working for Cecil, even liaison officers planted by the "Trajectory" plan, have been captured by Typhon authorities. Amber even had to cut off several intelligence lines because of this. Under such tense circumstances, Gawain couldn’t let the irreplaceable spy Daniel risk his life to steal a formula.
While pondering, Aunt Heidi suddenly thought of something: "Right, I just thought of someone..."
"Are you referring to the ’guest’ we have in Sorinburg?" Gawain raised an eyebrow, "I don’t think she’d be willing to cooperate with us in such matters. Surrendering for a righteous cause and betraying one’s country are two different concepts."
"...Or perhaps her father?" Aunt Heidi pondered again, "Bard was once also..."
"Allow me to interject," Yuri said beside them, "Firstly, the Wendell clan is indeed one of Typhon’s most important military aristocrats, whose family head and inheritors surely have access to these secrets. However, I don’t believe Bard can be of any help—he left Typhon many years ago, and at that time, mass-produced superhuman technology wasn’t even close to maturity. Moreover, Bard was detained by the Oblivion Association in a biochemical lab for many years after that, so he likely had no chance to access such information..."
"We’ll discuss this matter later," Gawain, after some thought, shook his head, "This topic strays too far—we should focus more on the normal research pathways. Aunt Heidi, you could try to arrange for someone to contact the Wendell father and daughter, but be mindful not to cause any negative effects. Meanwhile, Wendy and Yuri, stick to the previous plan, select some matching individuals among the mages for training. During wartime, our mental defense units need to be operational as soon as possible. Even a small number of elite contributions can improve the survival chances of frontline soldiers."
With the arrangements made, Gawain didn’t linger in the laboratory any longer—he still had a Governor’s meeting to host before evening.
Leaving the research facilities, Gawain and Aunt Heidi walked towards the parking lot. A cold, chilling wind blew, causing Aunt Heidi, who hadn’t activated the Wind Shield, to instinctively shrink her neck.
Gawain looked up, realizing the sky had somehow bee overcast. Leaden, dense clouds loomed over the earth, with turbulent cold winds coursing through them. Amidst entwining air currents, delicate, crystal-clear snowflakes floated down leisurely.
"It’s snowing..." Aunt Heidi also looked up, her clear eyes reflecting the snowflakes descending from the sky. She reached out her hand, and a snowflake touched her fingertip, yet it transformed into a drop of water within seconds, "This year’s first snow in the southern borders came really late..."
"It snowed on the Plains of the Holy Spirits last week," Gawain said, "The Celestial Phenomena Bureau pared the precipitation and temperature changes of previous years and thinks there might be a cold winter this year...colder than any of the past twenty years."
"Trade in Typhon textiles has been halted due to the war; we won’t be getting cheap fabrics from the east until the war ends," Aunt Heidi said seriously, "Fortunately, last year’s mass purchases and the continuous cotton weaving production in the western plains have accumulated enough stockpile; this winter, we need not worry about the supply of cotton clothes. Of course, if the war drags on, we will have to consider expanding our cotton weaving production—this year’s baby boom has brought a large number of new births, requiring additional supplies of textiles, medicines, and food. The Agriculture Department is already making corresponding plans in this regard."
"...The impact has already started showing...Typhon might not fare much better this winter; many of their rail lines still cannot operate independently, and numerous factories are waiting for our finished ponents," Gawain shook his head, "This will be a test of the new international rules, and a first test for the two settlement zones. The Typhonians will definitely find ways to maintain their market presence in the southern continent, and we must keep our trade with the western continent as usual. The news of the war should have already spread across nations; maintaining stable trade activities can bolster our allies’ confidence—and also alleviate the pressure on us."
Aunt Heidi lowered her head, "I understand, forefather."
...
As the first snow of this winter drifted down over Cecil Castle, another snow came—neither too early nor too late—visiting distant Aldernon.
pared to the more northerly Cecil Castle, the snow in Aldernon seemed gentler, sparse snowflakes drifting down slowly on the earth under the overcast sky and thin mist, leisurely blanketing the wet urban ground with a thin layer of white.
Duke Ferdinand Wendell walked out of the porch, standing in the snow in the courtyard, somewhat lost in thought as he gazed at the imposing yet peculiarly empty and cold luxurious courtyard. His attendants and maids stood not far away, yet he felt he was the only one here alone.
A year ago, Andresha was here watching a snowfall with him. A dozen years ago, Bard and his then still-alive daughter-in-law were by his side. Twenty years back, beneath the swing set and next to the beautiful fountain not far away, sat his eternally smiling wife—and this year, it was just him here alone.
The bone-chilling wind swept in, and Duke Ferdinand felt as if his arms and knees had been pierced by the cold. He finally couldn’t resist raising an energy barrier to ward off the northern wind, dispersing the snowflakes on himself and around him. He couldn’t help but let out a bitter smile in the wind—no matter how intimidating the Wolf General might be, there would still e a day when he grew old. Yet, in his youth, he never imagined he would stand so lonely in a courtyard amidst the wind and snow.
Andresha, far away in Cecil, should be okay... The Cecil Clan probably wouldn’t be too harsh on a general who voluntarily laid down arms. In such a cold winter, does she have someone to keep her pany?
A voice from beside interrupted Duke Ferdinand’s thoughts: "My lord, the wind is picking up, you should go inside and rest."
Turning his head toward the voice, Duke Ferdinand saw his butler, who had acpanied him for many years, standing in the snow. Snowflakes had already collected on the butler’s shoulders, yet he still stood straight in the wind, meticulous like a statue.
The time for reflection was over, and Duke Ferdinand’s expression became serious once again. He transformed back into the intimidating knight lord, nodding with authority. He turned and walked toward the porch, with the butler following half a step behind, discreetly brushing the snow from his shoulders.
"You sent a servant to the market this morning," Duke Ferdinand asked casually under the porch, "how is the order over there?"
"The prices have stabilized, and the panic among the people has significantly improved," the butler immediately responded. "People are still a bit nervous, but it’s no longer a confused fear—they’re more worried about whether food prices will rise again and when this war will end."
"Are many people discussing the church?"
"There are discussions everywhere, but it’s rare to see anyone questioning the Protectorate Knight Order or the Obsidian Imperial Guard, or aggressively supporting the church—at least not in public," the butler continued. "The public purification ceremonies against evil spirits and the detailed reports and images of the polluted altars and rooms in the church had a huge impact on ordinary people. Even devout believers now say it was evil spirits that defiled the church, no longer insisting the Sect of the God of War is immaculate..."
Duke Ferdinand nodded gently, and the severe expression on his face seemed to relax slightly.
The atmosphere in the city was gradually improving—despite some aristocrats being worried sick every day, speculators feeling uneasy, and the tension in the upper society, Aldernon’s overall order was miraculously stabilizing swiftly, with the operational state of key departments visibly improving.
The supply of essential resources like food and medicine had stabilized, and several planned efforts to inflate prices and withhold resources were forcibly suppressed. Some of the War God’s Clergy attempted armed resistance against the blockade orders, but before they could act, the Obsidian Imperial Guard and the Protectorate Knight Order had already quelled and dismantled all rebel actions—in fact, as early as a month ago, the War God Churches across the country were under strict surveillance by troops loyal to the royal family, although some military units did lose control unexpectedly, overall everything remained under the control of the Obsidian Palace.
There were concerns that the temporary closure of the parliament would bring long-standing unrest to the empire’s governance, but Rosetta Augustus and his royal cabinet, along with the emergency advisory group, proved otherwise to the world with high efficiency and resolute execution. Now, everything was starting to move in a positive direction.
At least, that was the current stage.
The old Duke instinctively pressed his chest, feeling a solid, pocket watch-sized object—a special talisman there, whose power was slowly circulating, soothing and protecting him. The talisman gave him a sense of calm but also made him understand that some matters were far from over.
...
Since the outbreak of the war, intelligence from the front line had been continuously transmitted and converged to Aldernon, then to Rosetta Augustus’ desk, through munication Towers distributed across the Empire.
The war itself might have been something many did not wish to see, but the certain "gains" the war brought were undoubtedly real, and for the rulers of the Empire, the biggest gain was intelligence—about the enemy, and about themselves.
Rosetta’s gaze slowly moved over a document, while Matilda stood quietly by his side.
The document detailed many aspects related to the "magical mechanized troops" of the Cecil Clan, including the variety of automated war machines, the equipment and tactics of Cecil soldiers, predictions of enemy tactical thinking and overall strategy, as well as a report summary of Typhon’s own army.
Every life on the battlefield turned into experience and reflection on these thin sheets of paper—for both the Cecil and Typhon, it was the first time they faced a truly evenly matched opponent on the front lines for such a broad and deep confrontation.
Both sides were gaining experience, and Rosetta, looking at the intelligence in his hand, believed that Gawain Cecil’s desk must have something similar.
"Your previous judgment is correct, Matilda," Rosetta finally raised his gaze after a long while, looking at his eldest daughter beside him. "We must further integrate magic technology into the military field. It’s far from enough to just have soldiers ride on magic-guided vehicles or produce some weapons in factories. The Cecil Clan has an exceedingly large war potential—though they are at a stalemate with us now, over time, their growth rate will inevitably surpass ours, and the gap lies partly in their magic technology and partly in their... way of thinking."
"Andresha once told me she was always worried we’d be caught in a prolonged war with the Cecil Clan—they have a short production cycle for their war machines and rapid soldier training, all losses are manageable, whereas our Empire Corps, though much improved over traditional forces, still cannot match the Cecil in this regard... A prolonged war is very disadvantageous for us."
"...Time, so we need time," Rosetta slowly spoke, "I hope we still have enough time."
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