Chapter 681 - 680: The Insider

After another ten seconds of silence, Amber broke the silence once again. The half-elf lowered her head, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper: "...So, I don’t have to look for my biological parents anymore, do I, old man?"

"We just wanted you to live like a normal child, and normal children have parents—when we realized you would soon completely forget your early memories, Sali Randolph and I lied to you, saying you were picked up from the forest and your parents’ whereabouts were unknown," Pittman’s voice was low as he shook his head slightly, "Ahh, perhaps we should have lied even more thoroughly, so you wouldn’t have been concerned about your biological parents all these years."

"You’ve always known the name ’Artificial Human No. 36’?"

"After Sali Randolph died, I found scholars who specialized in ancient texts to help me translate these letters..." Pittman sighed and said slowly, "But it doesn’t really matter anymore. After reading his notes, even if I couldn’t understand these letters, I could guess your origins... That’s why I once thought of taking this secret to my grave."

Amber pursed her lips: "Good thing you didn’t, otherwise, even if I had to dig you out, I’d come looking for trouble."

Pittman spread his hands, showing a helpless look: "I wonder who you learned this temper from."

Amber’s lips moved slightly, but no sound came out. She just lowered her head, looking at the already yellowed and worn diary, and after a long time, she muttered, "At least it’s an answer..."

Gawain reached out and gently brushed her head: "You okay?"

"I’m not crying."

"I didn’t say you were crying..."

"...I’m okay," Amber shook her head but didn’t avoid Gawain’s hand, "It’s just... this answer is different from any I ever imagined."

"As an outsider, I can’t plan your life or decide your thoughts for you, but from my perspective... it’s all in the past now," Gawain looked at Amber, "Whether it’s those who once created you or the things mentioned in Sali Randolph’s diary, it’s all in the past. These people and events have shaped who you are today. Since you’re still here, alive and well, you should look forward."

Amber suddenly took a deep breath and exhaled long, then she looked up and rolled her eyes at Gawain: "You really have no clue how to comfort someone, do you?"

Then, not waiting for Gawain to respond, she laughed self-mockingly and shook her head: "But I’m an artificial human... so maybe this is exactly what I need, huh."

She seemed to adjust her mood with remarkable speed. Though there was still some difference from her usual playful demeanor, she smiled with a sense of relief: "You’re right, it’s time to look forward. Whether I’m an artificial human or something else, at least I finally found the answer, and I know the secret my foster father kept hidden for so many years. It’s quite a gain no matter how you look at it."

Gawain glanced at the half-elf: "But there are still many mysteries about you. Do you plan to keep searching?"

"Keep searching, of course," Amber shook her head vigorously, her ears twitching slightly in the air, "The truth may be frightening, but I fear the unknown more. Let’s be honest, even if I were to die in the future, I’d want to find out why, right?"

"That doesn’t sound like something you’d usually say," Gawain couldn’t help but comment, "By your style, even if you faced death, you’d find a way to escape it, just in case you survive."

"So, I said it wasn’t going to be nice, meaning it’s a situation where escape isn’t an option," Amber put her hands on her hips, speaking vigorously. Then she glanced at the diary on the table, thoughtfully, "And after seeing these, I really want to understand some things, especially what led my foster father to take such risks and lose his life..."

The thing that led Sali Randolph to take risks and lose his life.

Gawain certainly knew what Amber was referring to—Sali Randolph, who had already successfully lived incognito for decades, dared to act in an attempt to steal a book collected in the southern borders Cathedral, resulting in capture by transcendent of the church and execution with the cooperation of local aristocrats and bishops."

What kind of book could have such an attraction for Sali Randolph?

Gawain and Amber simultaneously looked at Pittman: this old man, hiding a body full of secrets, probably knew something.

"By now, let’s not hide anything," Gawain said, "What exactly did Sali Randolph want to steal from the church back then? Was it really just a book?"

"It was really just a book," Pittman said, spreading his hands with a wry smile, "It’s an ancient book that can be traced back five or six hundred years. I don’t know its exact name and content, but it should be a journal or collection of observations. Its author mentioned many secret realms and ruins scattered across the world, including a place suspected to be the Shadow Fortress—Sali hoped to find Amber’s origins from it, the secret behind the Shadow Fortress."

"For this? He gambled with his life over this?" Amber’s eyes widened, "Can’t these things just wither away in history? Why did he have to pursue it!"

"You’re right, it’s the most foolish thing he’s ever done. I still scold him harshly in my dreams to this day, but at the time none of us expected that such a minor matter would cost him his life," Pittman slightly shook his head, "The church that housed the book was just an ordinary district church, but several monks from Lu’an City happened to be visiting that day. Sali failed not because of just ’knocking over candles offered by the leader.’ He was caught red-handed near the church’s sacred object vault."

Pittman shook his head and sighed: "On that day, his luck ran out."

Gawain frowned: "Is that book still in that church?"

"It’s said that after that incident, the local church’s priests offered most of their collection to the Lu’an Grand Cathedral to make up for their ’lack of vigilance.’ I don’t know if the book Sali sought is among them... most likely it is."

After a brief silence, Gawain said lightly: "Lu’an City now belongs to the Empire; it’s a training facility for the White Knights."

"It was once the headquarters of the Southern Church, and its collection is vast," Pittman reminded, "Books have always been precious assets, and the church is most zealous in amassing such assets, especially after the decline of the Cecil Clan in the southern borders—over half of the books from the southern borders in the past century are piled in the Lu’an Grand Cathedral’s library."

"It’s fine, we can take our time searching," Gawain said casually, "We need to organize the collections of churches and academic facilities nationwide anyway, compile and consolidate knowledge from all fields. It’s perfect timing, we can start with the library of the Lu’an Grand Cathedral—Wright mentioned that the path of the holy light requires both a sound mind and body. Those White Knights trained in the Grand Cathedral shouldn’t just practice endurance and hunt wild bears in the hills all the time."

"But we don’t know what that book looks like," Amber couldn’t help but say, "We don’t even know the title..."

```

"Then let’s first organize all the notes and records. In a cathedral library primarily focused on religious texts and transcendent literature, there shouldn’t be too many ’miscellaneous books’ qualified to be included."

Amber and Pittman both nodded, expressing approval of Gawain’s idea.

After considering for a moment, Gawain added, "Moreover, concerning that ’Shadow Fortress’, perhaps there’s someone else who can help us elucidate."

"Who?"

Pittman didn’t immediately react and asked instinctively, but Amber beside him had a flash in her eyes, immediately coming up with the answer: "That Ophelia Norton?"

"If Sali Randolph’s intelligence is correct, the Shadow Fortress should be another base of the Defier, and Ophelia Norton was responsible for more than one defied fortress back in the day," Gawain nodded with a smile, "In those ancient resisting projects she was in charge of... will Amber be part of it?"

...

On the first floor of Silver Castle, in the largest banquet hall, bright lights shone brilliantly, elegant court music wafted through the air.

The high aristocrats qualified to enter the "inner circle" and attend the banquet wandered through the magnificent castle hall. They wore the most luxurious attire, donned the most appropriate smiles, employing their richest experiences in social interaction to navigate this occasion destined to be recorded in history. However, compared to usual castle feasts, the nobles present today appeared significantly more reserved and tense—

The establishment of the new empire altered everything about this country, and the aristocratic system unchanged for hundreds of years was about to be turned upside down following the signing ceremony concluding the banquet. Although those present were advocates of reform and new policies from the old nobility who had accepted the new order, this was ultimately an era they had never before encountered. Facing an entirely new social structure and an unpredictable future large scale, these "newly minted empire aristocrats" inevitably harbored an attitude of walking on thin ice.

Their muscles were tense despite the smiles on their faces in the banquet hall; they invited dance partners to gracefully dance, but each step felt like walking on a tightrope and tiptoeing on knife edges; they conversed lightly, yet each word was mulled over ten times in their minds, and paid close attention to every expression in the hall when hearing any sentence.

The three Grand Governors conversing at the end of the hall were the focus of many nobles’ attention, who passed near the "Triumvirate" as casually as possible, attempting to overhear useful intelligence, but this wasn’t easy—when it came to important matters, the Grand Governors naturally would erect soundproof barriers, and approaching too brazenly would obviously invoke the Grand Governor’s displeasure, which was unacceptable to the socially experienced aristocrats.

Therefore, a portion of nobles diverted their attention to the "little princess", as she seemed to dislike the restraining atmosphere of the inner circle, spending most of her time outdoors. Well-informed individuals learned that the princess was a naive and lively young girl, and thus many sought to ingratiate themselves with Rebecca—however, the fact proved this seemed even more difficult than ingratiating themselves with the Triumvirate.

A beautiful lady in a light purple court gown had just returned to the inner banquet hall, carrying a look of defeat, pouring her grievances to acquaintances: "The princess asked me if I could fold grasshoppers using leaves, and then asked if I knew how to solve the magic power interference equations—I couldn’t answer almost any of the questions, it was exceedingly impolite."

A gentleman in a dark red gown gave the lady a sympathetic glance: "Countess Lentini, didn’t you try using your specialty, ladies’ fencing, to initiate a topic? The princess supposedly loves combat skills."

"Oh, don’t bring that up!" The countess reacted exceedingly vehemently, "Of course I tried—then the princess directly snatched a sword from the nearby guard and tossed it over, asking me to partake—I was wearing an evening dress!"

"Ah, that must have been quite the disaster," the gentleman in the dark red gown shrugged, "but at least you were more fortunate than Earl Balin."

"Earl Balin?"

Standing nearby, Earl Balin’s face turned pale, seemingly still recovering: "I heard the princess was proficient in fireball spells, so I intended to kick off a topic using this—she was very delighted, and consequently conjured a fireball as large as a door panel... my reaction was disgracefully unpresentable."

The two capital aristocrats instantly found common ground, sighing and lamenting in unison, but their lamentations were soon interrupted by a voice almost wailing: "You all are luckier than me!"

Lentini and Balin simultaneously turned their heads, seeing a young noble with short golden hair, a scholarly demeanor, clasping a stack of papers in dismay, looking utterly defeated.

"Mr. Finley, what’s this...?"

"Who told me the princess likes mathematics and sciences? My friendship with him is over!" The young noble waved the papers in his hand, "I said I’m good at math and science, and the princess handed me a stack of tests! Can anyone tell me what is written on them?!"

...

Elegant court music floated through the hall, joyous music adorned the surface-level merriment, while Veronica Moen quietly stood in an inconspicuous corner, her gaze sweeping over those wandering, dancing, conversing, laughing in the hall, as if a spectator without expression, watching a play she had long memorized.

But when conversations about failing to ingratiate oneself with Princess Rebecca reached her, this expressionless spectator’s lips did slightly curl upwards.

"Today must be the most exhausting banquet in their lives," Veronica turned, smiling as she spoke to Gawain and Amber approaching her, lightly nodding to Pittman walking behind them in greeting, "They’ve encountered the most unconventional royal family member."

"Nobles are always accustomed to expending too much energy in unproductive areas, which is why they live so tiredly," Gawain said casually, "Of course, Rebecca’s education is also an issue."

Veronica smiled slightly, "I rather like the child’s personality...reminds me somewhat of myself back then."

"...Completely unimaginable."

"Time changes many things, you should deeply feel this," Veronica remarked, "Now, for the empire’s emperor to avoid appearing at the banquet and instead come to find me, the awkward former princess of the previous dynasty, is there a particular matter?"

Gawain came straight to the point: "Do you know the Shadow Fortress?"

"...I know, it was a project abandoned by my own hands."

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