Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1190 - 1189: Beltira’s Suspicion


Chapter 1190: Chapter 1189: Beltira’s Suspicion

Regarding the increasingly odd changes in the personality of Madam Beltira, the former Female Dark Matriarch, since becoming a plant, Bard has long been accustomed to it over the past two years. Given the upheavals that everyone living on this land has faced in the past two years, these small changes seem trivial in comparison—ever since the legendary hero stepped out from the epic stories, everything in this world has been changing rapidly, without exception.

Beltira just happens to be the one with the most changes amongst them all.

"Life should have some sense of ritual, huh..." He chuckled softly, feeling completely relaxed at some point, "Indeed, like the things she’s been saying recently... Alright, I’ve got it. I’ll find her as soon as I can."

General Margarita nodded, but before she turned to leave, she kindly reminded him: "Mr. Bard—wipe your eyes first."

"Eyes..." Bard paused for a moment, finally reacting sluggishly. He smiled somewhat awkwardly and wiped the already cooled moisture off his face with the back of his hand, "Thank you, General."

...

Traversing through the lush branches at the edge of the crown area, through the "curtains" and "green walls" formed by layers of broad leaves, one can reach various facilities inside the giant tree without using the external access passage. Bard is seated in a semi-transparent "container" akin to a pod, proceeding along a semi-open wooden track towards Beltira’s biochemical laboratory. He peers out at the track, and just as the container traverses a spacious section of the tree crown interior, certain scenes that only those with special access permissions can see come into view.

He sees massive wooden "skeletons" supporting one after another continuous ellipsoidal spaces. Although these skeletons are wooden, they are stronger than steel. Strengthened twigs and metallic-hued leaves cover between the wooden beams, forming vaults and barriers. Glowing vines and chandelier-like fruits hang down from the domes, illuminating these "caves within the crown," which don’t at all resemble enclosed spaces wrapped by hundreds of meters thick of wood and foliage.

Inside these spaces, numerous pods are neatly arranged and fixed to the wooden structure barriers. Fiber tubes and nerve structures extend from the pods, converge on the smooth, sturdy, metal-glossed leaf ground, and connect to various "ponds" on the ground, covered by a tough, transparent shell, under which the biomass solution gently ripples.

Those "ponds" are cross-type biomass splitting pools personally designed by Beltira, providing nutrients to the biochemical factory here. In those pods, thousands of various embryos or biological matrices lie dormant, most being experiment projects of the Empire’s Druid Association, while others are domestic orders from different establishments, including unit matrices for artificial nerve cords, versatile servo brains, and plasma samples.

With the current alliance formed, connections between nations are increasingly close. Some overseas orders are allocated to the biochemical factory within Sorin Giant Tree, though this part of the orders is still small in quantity and mostly in the "cell adjustment" phase, not yet sent to these "Evolution Pods."

The tubular track runs above this layer of space, the personnel transport container quickly speeding along the track. Bard sees several other tubular tracks extending from directions of other chambers, containers varying in speed operating within them, colleagues from other departments spot him in their containers and wave. Just as Bard responds, those containers are swiftly transported to other places.

"Working overtime in the middle of the night..." Bard shakes his head, speaking sympathetically, as in his peripheral vision, a section of newly generated still-in-adjustment phase track slowly moves across the chamber dome, attempting to connect with a transportation interface on the opposite side of the chamber, while a giant warning message is projected from a nearby Magic Web Terminal: The transportation track here is growing, please do not use.

In Sorin Region, many know that this giant tree covering the plain has an extremely vast and complex internal structure, with countless factories, laboratories, living areas, and various chambers hidden within her trunk and branches, even deep within her roots. Every day, these structures change, differentiate, grow, and perfect into increasingly incredible forms, but almost no one can accurately and completely decipher the internal structure of Sorin Giant Tree, nor know what her next phase’s growth blueprint looks like.

Even throughout the Empire, few know these secrets, which should include the highest officials here, General Margarita, the president of the Empire’s Druid Association, Pittman, several Grand Governors, and the Empire’s supreme leader. Yet those who most understand firsthand information undoubtedly can only be this giant tree "herself," Madam Beltira.

Bard relaxed in spirit, his mind wandering through various thoughts as the light outside dimmed. The pod container underway enters a closed "tunnel," container lights automatically switch on with slight delay, light emitted by glowing cells shines on his mildly smiling countenance. Shortly after, the pod exterior brightens again, he lifts his head towards the "windows" outside, looking through transparent gelatinous window panes, seeing he has arrived at a brightly lit indoor space—Madam Beltira’s laboratory.

The pod silently opens, Bard emerges from within and familiarly walks into the depths of the laboratory. After passing through a "leaf door," he sees the lab’s owner—Madam Beltira is seated at a round table nearby, her roots and vines relaxingly spread. A set of exquisite tea utensils is laid on the round table before her, the fine porcelain teacup with white base and golden rim steaming, faint tea fragrance wafting into Bard’s nose.

Beltira attentively stares at the liquid in the teacup, apparently observing it for quite some time before Bard arrives. She then lightly nods, seemingly affirming the tea scent, afterward reaching to sip tea, pouring it on her head with serious demeanor—as Bard entered the room sees this exact scene.

The erstwhile Wolf General is astounded, subconsciously blurting out: "Madam Beltira?"

Beltira, having already sensed Bard’s presence, turns around unhurriedly, nods slightly at the visitor: "You arrived earlier than I anticipated—I heard you had received a family letter, didn’t expect you to be late by at least half an hour because of it."

"Uh... I’ve already received the family letter... it’s not important," Bard hesitated, then pointed at Beltira’s head, "The key is, what are you doing?"

"Can’t you tell?" Beltira gently shook the now empty teacup in her hand, "I am drinking tea."

Bard is dumbfounded: "Poured it on your head?"

"Mr. Bard, have you never watered flowers since you were a kid?"

Bard: "...Uh... I thought you would at least use your mouth... you know, at least from an appearance standpoint, that would look more normal... alright, your logic is correct, at least from the perspective of watering flowers—but didn’t you say life should have some sense of ritual?"

"Ritual is just the embellishment of life—if life was solely based on ritual, I’d start shedding leaves due to malnutrition by tomorrow," said Beltira expressionlessly, and then picked up the teapot, poured into the two teacups on the round table halfway each, and invited Bard, "Sit down and have a cup of tea first. I just grew this."

Bard was about to walk towards the round table, but at that moment he stumbled, staring wide-eyed at the former Female Dark Matriarch: "Wait, the tea leaves were grown by yourself?! You brew tea from leaves you grew yourself?!"

Beltira seemed a bit helpless with Bard’s astonished look, she shook her head, picked up her own cup of tea, this time not pouring it on her head but directly dipped her finger into the water, and so the liquid in the cup was absorbed at a speed visible to the naked eye, then she glanced at Bard and said in a matter-of-fact tone: "Fallen leaves return to the roots, autumn leaves return to the soil, becoming the nourishment for the trees next year, I’m just adding a pot of boiling water to this process—Mr. Bard, why are you so shocked?"

Bard sat down at the round table with a very peculiar expression, he had to admit what this "tree lady" said indeed made sense logically, though it didn’t stop him from feeling strange while looking at the tea (and the few floating young leaves inside), but soon he thought of the Sorin Tree Fruit widely popular in the Sorin Region and the locally developed candied preserves based on it, his sense of oddness quickly faded into ease. He picked up the teacup, took a shallow sip, the unique fragrance calming his somewhat chaotic thoughts: "Thank you, it tastes very good, Madam Beltira."

Beltira revealed a slight smile: "Good, it seems the tea is effective, you’ve calmed down. Now we can discuss serious matters."

Bard felt bemused inwardly, thinking if it wasn’t for this damned tea, he wouldn’t have needed any "calmness," his thoughts were clear from the start, but in front of Beltira, he ultimately didn’t voice these thoughts, replacing them with a slightly awkward smile: "What did you want to see me about today?"

"Some... old stories from the Dark Cult period," Beltira withdrew her finger from the teacup, watching as the last bit of water on it swiftly got absorbed, her tone carrying a hint of somberness, "Among the Archbishops back then, there was an elven sister pair... do you recall them?"

"Lelena and Fyrna?" Bard quickly recalled after a brief thought, "Of course, I remember them—the eastern and central regions of Old Anzu were under their responsibility, I had lots of dealings with them while operating in those areas. Why? Why suddenly bring up these two?"

Beltira didn’t answer directly but casually asked another question: "Do you know where they ended up after the religions collapsed?"

"Well... I heard they tried to recruit Typhon but fled into the wasteland after failing," Bard said uncertainly, "You should know more about this than I do."

"Yes, they fled into the wasteland," Beltira nodded, "and there are clues indicating they might be colluding with a group of Oblivion Association believers entrenched in the wasteland, plotting to obtain the power buried in the Old Capital of Gondor—thus, the King has been investigating these matters and learned a lot from me about those elven twins..."

"I’ve heard a bit about these things too." Bard nodded and said.

"So, now I want to hear your ’impressions’," Beltira said, "Regarding the Fyrna Sisters, have you ever felt something... particularly discordant?"

"Particularly discordant?" Bard frowned, "That’s quite a broad question... In my view, there were many discordant things about them, even the entire upper hierarchy of the religions back then was quite abnormal, myself included—Madam Beltira, you know, it was hard to find sane, normal people within the Oblivion Association, everyone had various quirks and habits, and as for the Elven Twins... their way of speaking, the indistinguishable relationship, overlapping personalities, and memories, none of that seemed right, especially after seeing some of the dossiers released by the theocracy Authority Council, knowing they were actually sharing one soul... that felt even stranger."

"Okay, I guess my question wasn’t specific enough," Beltira shook her head, "I meant, did you ever perceive any non-human traits in them? Whether it’s in the knowledge they possessed, the thinking patterns revealed in their behavior, or their view of the world, powers occasionally exhibited, was there a non-human sense?"

"Non-human?" Bard hesitated, furrowing his brow slightly, "Though I’d say as elves they are inherently ’non-human,’ I’m sure you don’t mean that... sorry, at the moment I can’t really recall anything. Back then my highest status was only as a withered priest, a rank lower than an Archbishop, and interacting with the Fyrna Sisters mostly involved receiving orders from them, I didn’t have many opportunities to observe them seriously... besides, why are you seeking me out for these matters? I don’t think I’m the best..."

"Because on this land, you are the only surviving Oblivion Association believer aside from me," Beltira interrupted before Bard could finish, "Of course, Pittman also has some connections with the cult back then... but he’s even less suitable than you as an intelligence source."

Bard blinked, understanding Beltira’s predicament, while also feeling a hint of contemplation: "Sounds like you’ve recently discovered something? Or suddenly developed some suspicion?"

"I’ve been doing some... things recently, and coincidentally discovered certain clues. I’m starting to suspect that the elven sisters deceived everyone from the very beginning, right from... a thousand years ago, during the Gondor era."

Bard widened his eyes, he had already sensed from Beltira’s attitude that there might have been issues with the Elven Twins during the Oblivion era, but he never imagined this matter could be traced back even further, all the way to a thousand years ago in the Gondor Empire—clearly, this affair was more complicated than he had anticipated.

He looked at Beltira, without any attempt to conceal the questions on his face, and the latter hesitated slightly, then stood up from beside the round table: "Come with me, I’ll show you something, and you’ll understand what clues I’ve found."

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