Sword of Dawnbreaker

Gawain had not been walking at a fast pace.

Although Rebecca seemed a little anxious along the way, Gawain still conducted the journey at his own pace. He allowed the group to stop at each town along the way. Upon stopping, he instructed the soldiers to disguise themselves as travelers or mercenaries to spread the news of ‘The kingdom’s founding Grand Duke Gawain Cecil has come back to life’ and ‘Grand Duke Gawain will soon arrive in the city of St. Soniel.’ At the same time, he would also employ local bards and hoodlums to spread similar but more bizarre versions of the news. The funding they had received from Viscount Andrew was sufficient for him to accomplish these things.

At first, Gawain was still worried that neither he nor Rebecca had any experience dealing with the local tyrants and that they might encounter difficulties as they carried out these tasks. However, they did not expect that Knight Byron, who had traveled with them, would show his extraordinary skills. Though the middle-aged knight was not very powerful compared to his peers, his ability to deal with those loafers was impressive. Upon arriving in a city, he did not need much time before making connections with those ‘rats’. Before the soldiers spread the news, the various rumors about the southern border began to spread from the bottom rungs of the city…

Gawain was reminded of hearing about Knight Byron’s background from Rebecca. Byron was not a true noble, but he used to be a mercenary who had traveled extensively. He was taken in by the previous generation’s Viscount Cecil, after an incident and was able to rise up to the knight class. From the looks of it, it seemed that his experience as a former mercenary had not been wasted.

And Amber was the other person who had been of great help and performed just as Gawain had expected. She was indeed very proficient at dealing with those hoodlums. He was between describing her as being very professional versus being very adept at business… Gawain had given the half-elf girl some money to bribe those hoodlums, and when she was done with it, she returned with even more money…

Of course, such a behavior was strongly condemned by Rebecca, who had a good upbringing. In order to keep up a good image for his descendants, Gawain had no choice but to press Amber’s head and make her promise to return the stolen money and to never do that again.

This was a huge blow to Amber as though her values were being condemned. Gawain thought that it was probably impossible to teach her proper values.

Besides allowing the news to continue spreading, Gawain had another motive that was hard to talk about—he needed to understand the world better.

It was not because there was a huge 700 years of difference between the knowledge from the memory he had inherited and the current reality, but because he was not even a person of this world. The images he had seen in the sky could at most be used as a map, while the memory he inherited could not be readily and flexibility used. On several occasions, he tried to search for something within the memory, but he did not know the ‘keywords’. And after all the wasted effort, he realized that what he needed urgently was to understand this world.

This process had been quite smooth.

He saw the poor and backward southern villages of Anzu Kingdom, the bustling and lively central cities, the wilderness, the fortresses built by humans. All these were slowly blending together with the map he saw when overlooking the land.

Inferring from a few details, he confirmed that the ‘latest’ top-down map in his mind should not be too outdated. It was probably a record left about ten years ago. That was the last image he saw when he was hanging atop the sky.

In this slow-paced world, a map from ten years ago was absolutely usable.

With regards to leaving the southern border for so long and whether there might be any problems that could arise in Tanzan Town, Gawain was not as worried as Rebecca. He believed that Herti would be able to deal with things. And he could be quite certain that Viscount Andrew would properly fulfill the terms of the deal. It was not that he trusted in the Viscount’s character, but he believed that the benefits of the deal was good enough that it would bind him to the Cecil Clan. Before leaving the southern border, he instructed Knight Philip to spread the news through every channel. In addition to letting everyone know about the resurrection of Gawain Cecil, it would also bring the survivors from the Cecil territory into the focus of everyone’s attention. Viscount Andrew, who sheltered the survivors, would have no choice but to continue taking care of the refugees until Gawain Cecil returned from the capital, and everything was settled.

No matter how long the journey took, the journey would soon come to an end. Two months after leaving the southern area, the towering walls of the city of St. Soniel finally appeared before Gawain and the group.

This was a city built on a plain. It was of a scale far bigger than those of the poor and backward southern cities. The white walls and neat light blue roofs were the city’s distinctive features which had given it the reputation of being ‘The White City’ and ‘The Blue Crowns’.

Ever since the founding King Charlie the First led his people to cultivate the land on this plain and built this city, the city had undergone countless expansions and reconstructions. The first walls made of earth and stones were no more, leaving behind only a few symbolic walls in the older parts of the city. The newly built city walls made of large stones were ten times larger than the original. These stones were obtained from the rocky ridges in the north, and the hard rocks in the eastern area. Molten copper and lead filled between the bricks. Within this thick and sturdy city wall, crystals blessed with earth elemental power was buried every hundred meters to ensure that it would not crack and disintegrate. This luxury was something that the pioneering ancestors back in those days would never have even dreamed of.

Standing below the walls of St. Soniel, looking up at the stone bricks dazzling under the sunshine, he realized that he could not find any such associations in his memory.

This city was no longer the same place as the small city in Gawain Cecil’s memory.

With proper entry passes and a reliable status of aristocracy, Gawain and the party entered the city without any hiccups.

The King, Francis II, who ruled over the entire Anzu Kingdom, awaited these visitors from the south in his royal palace, the Silver Castle, and he was especially keen to meet the special guest who lived 700 years ago.

Actually, he had already been waiting for many, many days, to the extent that he was almost going to get a nervous breakdown.

This old ancestor was too tormenting. The King did not like to be waiting like this. From all over the southern parts, information from every town from the south to the north had almost never stopped coming in. Official reports from from every level of officials and news gathered from the people could almost be stacked up to one meter on the desk. Among those reports were at least a hundred versions of the news, not including versions that come in different dialects. Regardless of which version it was, the main story was talking about the ancestor who suddenly unveiled his coffin and led his descendants straight for the capital. However, the reports kept coming every day, while the old ancestor…

What was keeping him!?

The initial plan made after receiving the secret letter from Viscount Andrew had long been abandoned, and the strategies discussed with his trusted advisors had also failed as the ancestor took a scenic tour and paraded himself around the cities. Now, everyone knew about Gawain Cecil’s return. Of course, considering that communication in this era was not very efficient, it would be quite an exaggeration to say that everyone knew about his return. However, this news would at least be known among the people with the ability to gather information such as those traveling merchants and aristocrats.

Thus, there was little that Francis II could do.

He would have to sit in the Silver Castle, openly receive the returning legendary Grand Duke, openly speak with him, and openly send him off.

At least, in every aspect that people would take notice of, he had to do it in an open fashion.

However, Gawain was not planning to let that King be relieved so quickly. Or perhaps, he had already achieved his first objectives. Now, he wanted to test the the King’s attitude and of those around the King. Thus, instead of keeping a low-profile and directly going to the Silver Castle in their carriage, he ordered the soldiers to take out the banner already prepared in the carriage not long after entering the city.

The banner was drawn with the Cecil Clan’s emblem, and the sword and shield emblem of the Anzu royal family. The two emblems were drawn side by side. It was restored according to his memory. It was the banner that Gawain Cecil used when he was the Grand Duke of the southern border.

Even if they had only twelve soldiers, they had to bring out a presence as though they were guards of honor.

Cecil Clan had indeed declined, but even if they had declined to their current state, the clan which had followed the founding king in pioneering, it was established in their roots as warriors and they still had a little pride preserved. They defended the people and the land and never went easy on the battlefield. Rebecca, who was only seventeen now and could only put out fireballs, could be said to be Cecil’s weakest leader yet. She was lousy in both politics and combat. Her brain might have even been caught by the door before, but even she could lead the last few clan soldiers as they defended the castle and let the remaining civilians break out. This was all thanks to the sense of honor passed down through the generations.

Therefore, even though the Cecils had the poorest land in the southern borders, it was still able to cultivate the strongest warriors of the southern borders.

Even if there were only a dozen or so of these warriors left.

The soldiers raised the banners and rode on horses in a two-row formation. Watching the emblems waving on the banners, they seemed to have also been encouraged by this as their heads were held high. Behind them, Rebecca and Gawain also got off the carriage and rode together with the soldiers.

Byron was at the front. The mercenary-born, knight, who came into his class later in his life, tried his best to present himself like a real aristocrat so as not to disgrace the clan which he had sworn allegiance to. But Gawain rode the horse beside him and whispered to him, “Relax. Put aside all the rules of comportment. Back in the day when we came here, some of us even carried logging axes on our backs.”

At the end of the line, in the carriage where Gawain and Rebecca was supposed to sit in, now sat the bandit girl and Betty, the maidservant who had dozed off.

“Aristocrats are really some sick species, right?” Amber looked outside the carriage, turned back, and poked Betty’s arm. “Why don’t they sit in a carriage when they have one, and instead they go showing off on their horses? They’re nuts.”

Betty tilted her head a little, looking as though she was nodding, but suddenly a snot bubble came out.

Amber batted her eyes as she looked at Betty, and suddenly noticed the pan she was holding. Immediately, she was up to mischief as she used her excellent skills as a thief and quietly went closer to the pan…

Betty suddenly hugged the pan and stared at Amber in a startled expression. “No! The Lord said that this is mine!”

Amber: “…?”