Chapter 687 — Euphemism

He was referring to the lair of the Church of the End of All Things in the eastern part of the Holy Spirit Plain—after the man-made god was slain, search teams had discovered an enormous fissure near Soren Fort. According to the intelligence Pi Yun provided, beneath that fissure should lie the main base of the Church of the End of All Things. The scale of that camp might approach that of the Fortress of Defiance, and part of its structure might even extend into the Eastern Region, burying countless secrets.

"The surface and the shallow caves and passages have been cleared, but we have not gone deep," Hetty shook her head slightly. "The structure below is too complex. The scholars are currently trying to decipher the patterns of its magical traps and mechanisms, and until then the teams dare not venture in rashly. Also, after Rebecca learned of this, she suggested the expert team throw bombs underground to disarm the traps—please rest assured, that has already been dealt with."

Gao Yang: "..."

"Ahem, understood," Gao Yang cleared his throat after a few seconds. "That is indeed the sort of thing Rebecca would do. But after all, the child has grown up, so when we talk we should still spare a thought for her dignity..."

"Yes, Ancestor." Hetty nodded with a solemn expression, while the two Grand Consuls beside her, Victoria and Bai Yu, exchanged a glance with a certain tacit understanding in their eyes.

Seeing that even Victoria, a person whose expression almost never changed, had the corners of her mouth curving upward, Gao Yang knew that Rebecca's exploits had probably already spread throughout Saint Sunil... Well, of course—if that girl hadn't stirred up one mess after another, a steady person like Hetty wouldn't be carrying such deep resentment as to make oblique remarks during a work report, reminding the Xuanyao Sect to watch out for a brat's mischief...

But frankly, it was a little embarrassing: when Hetty mentioned that the underground lair had many mechanisms and traps, the idea of blasting a path through had also popped into Gao Yang's mind—except what he envisioned was high-precision demolition technology, whereas the fireballs brewing in Rebecca's head were probably bigger than a city gate...

"Rebecca..." Gao Yang couldn't help but give a helpless smile and a soft sigh, then turned his head toward the window.

The autumn wind swept past the castle's towers, spiraling and threading between the intricate spires and wall-towers, bringing autumn leaves and the chill of the Northern Region. Unknowingly, this was already the fourth year since he had awakened as Gao Yang Cecil, and the fourth year since he had come to know people like Rebecca and Hetty.

"Four years already... the child ought to have learned to be a bit more steady by now, shouldn't she?"

The autumn wind swept through the castle courtyard, past the tall, straight dragonleaf trees and the neatly trimmed shrubs and flowerbeds. A withered yellow leaf spun down from high above and was gently caught by a somewhat slender hand.

Maggie, the black-haired maid, looked at the withered leaf resting in her palm. The leaf had a peculiar asymmetry—narrow on one side and broad on the other, its edges jagged and uneven, inevitably reminding one of the wings of dragons in legend. She still vaguely remembered that in her homeland, whenever autumn came, such leaves would litter every street and alley.

The rather precious "dragonleaf tree" of Ansu was extremely common in the Duchy of the Holy Dragon.

Maggie gently curled her fingers, and the withered yellow leaf gave off a faint glimmer between them. When she opened her palm again, the leaf had transformed into a bird made of illusory motes of dust, drifting lightly up into the sky.

"It flies so beautifully..." she murmured softly.

A sudden sound of footsteps came from behind, and Maggie immediately gathered her wits. She resumed her usual shrewd, capable, and proper demeanor and turned to see who was approaching.

It was the Empire's princess—Rebecca Cecil.

"Your Highness." Once Rebecca had come within a certain distance, Maggie bent her waist at just the right moment and greeted her respectfully.

High society was full of rules; beyond the written formalities there were countless unwritten etiquettes, so much so that even the precise timing of a bow was coursework for a qualified maid—when a noble person other than one's master approached, a servant need not go out to meet them, but must bow in good time. Bowing too early was an offense, as if urging the other to hurry and respond; bowing too late was a sign of poor breeding and slow reflexes. The rules within were truly beyond counting.

Although Victoria had said that these tedious rules would sooner or later disappear or be simplified along with the old nobility, for Maggie these motions had long since become habit, requiring no deliberate effort to maintain.

"Oh, oh, no need for all that trouble, no need for all that trouble," Rebecca hurriedly waved her hand. She had no understanding of the details hidden within these rules; the only maid she dealt with regularly was the dopey Betty, a girl who needed a moment to react even when thunder cracked in the sky, so that Rebecca had no idea there was a whole world of subtlety in Maggie's bow. "I'm really not used to it..."

Maggie offered a gentle smile: "You are a member of the imperial family, Your Highness. You will have to get used to these things sooner or later."

"Don't even get me started. I'm still a bit dizzy from it all—how is it that the Zuyan folk go off to fight a war and I come back with my title changed..." Rebecca scratched at her hair, the bewilderment on her face not the least bit feigned. "But never mind that. I've finally found a chance to talk to you—I didn't run into you at the banquet before, and you don't usually come out and about. This time I only found out you were in the courtyard after asking the guards!"

Maggie frowned slightly. She had scarcely ever had any contact with Rebecca and could not begin to guess what went on in the head of this maverick princess: "What do you want with me?"

Rebecca thought for a moment, and then slowly broke into a radiant smile that was impossible not to warm to. She leaned in close and said, "Um... I heard it from the Ancestor, you know. You're actually a dragon, right?"

Maggie was taken aback. Her expression seemed to shift, but in the end she let out a soft breath and lowered her head slightly: "Yes."

She had never wished to make her identity known, and had always guarded her true form like a secret. But in the war before this, her true nature had already been exposed to many in the Cecil Legion. Considering that the Cecilians had shown her no strange attitude on account of her peculiar identity, and that Rebecca was, day to day, a rather likable and lively girl, the dragon in human form let go of her misgivings and admitted it frankly.

"Oh, oh, that's good, that's good!" Rebecca nodded again and again, then opened her mouth, steeling herself for what was to come—

She still remembered what the Ancestor had said: to mind her manners, to avoid wounding Maggie's pride as much as possible, because there seemed to be some unspoken sorrow in this black dragon girl's bloodline. So when it came to broaching the subject, she had to be tactful.

So Rebecca carefully worked it over in her mind before she said, beaming: "Then why don't you transform and let me see!"