Gawain focused intently on the image that only he could perceive, confirming that it displayed the terrain centered around the current Cecil expansion area, extending approximately one hundred kilometers outward. However, the familiar controls for adjusting the perspective had ceased to function.
The view was fixed within this range, unable to be moved or zoomed.
What was once a high-definition satellite image had transformed into a blurred display, marred by strange color patches.
What did those colors signify? Were they indicative of thermal imaging? Or some other type of sensory imaging?
Or perhaps… merely a malfunction?
Gawain recalled the voice he had heard upon exiting the aerial perspective, distinctly mentioning terms like energy failure, mainframe reboot failure, and escape procedures. Therefore, the likelihood of malfunction was quite high, especially given the current state where he could not adjust the perspective, further amplifying his suspicions.
He began to extend his thoughts: his soul, or rather his spiritual essence, had likely undergone a transformation. Although he had acquired a human body upon arriving on the ground, his consciousness evidently retained the ability to connect with some celestial "entity." For the past several months, he had been in an offline state, but the unexpected enhancement from the crystal had reestablished this connection. The ancient device in the sky—whether it was a satellite or a space station—was still malfunctioning, but whether it had experienced a brief resurgence of energy or a successful reboot remained uncertain. It persisted in some capacity, still operational, though the monitoring display had devolved into an unrecognizable mass, indicating that it still existed.
In this train of thought, Gawain felt compelled to consider another pressing issue: if the bond between his consciousness and the "satellite" above was more profound than he imagined, even bordering on a symbiotic relationship, then if that entity were to fail entirely, it could spell disaster for him.
He recognized that the probability of this was low, given that he had essentially been reborn as Gawain Cecil and had distinctly heard the phrase "escape procedure." Thus, his consciousness should have become independent. Yet in matters concerning survival, no potential threat could be overlooked!
However, that device likely orbited this planet in synchronous orbit, while he was now trapped in a backward medieval kingdom, unable to even glimpse it, let alone repair it!
Amid these tumultuous thoughts, Gawain continued to scrutinize all the details of the overhead image. He observed that the image was not static; in fact, the indistinct color patches were undergoing slight changes. Some areas brightened while others gradually dimmed, cycling with what seemed to be a pattern, yet the overall distribution and contour remained largely unchanged.
Just as Gawain attempted to decipher the patterns of the image's changes, a new development occurred.
He suddenly saw a box resembling a floating window appear above the image, flashing with characters that appeared distorted. The characters were entirely unfamiliar to him—neither Chinese nor any language from the kingdoms or races of the Loren continent.
Yet as he gazed in astonishment at that line of text, its meaning was instantly translated into his mind:
"New data: Giant planet activity has increased. Alert level raised to four."
The image began to shake, and layers of interference patterns appeared over the color patches. Gawain was jolted into awareness, swiftly redirecting his attention to the physical world—this first transition in perspective caused the scene before him to wobble momentarily before stabilizing. He shook off the lingering dizziness and swiftly rose from his desk, striding toward the tent's entrance.
Amber, who had been lurking nearby, was startled and leaped out from her shadowy form. "Wow!"
Gawain burst out of the tent, startling the two militia guards stationed at the entrance. He paid them no mind and looked up at the sun hanging high in the sky.
The massive sun was moving slowly and majestically across the horizon, surrounded by a soft halo of light resembling mist, appearing normal at first. However, soon, red threads gradually emerged on the sun's surface, akin to blood vessels on an eye.
In his mind, the overhead image persisted, revealing that the color patches were undulating, with nearly all colors rapidly deepening, then settling into a new stable state, punctuated occasionally by numerical values appearing at the image's edge, yet remaining indecipherable.
He suddenly realized: these colors were likely not a malfunction but rather a form of specialized monitoring mode.
Perhaps this mode was far more useful than a direct overhead view!
The red lines appearing on the sun (some of which had now morphed into patches) grew increasingly prominent, finally capturing the attention of those working in the camp. They paused, pointing and discussing the sun's changes until a supervisor barked at them to return to their tasks.
Not far away, Heidi, who was using mud-to-stone magic to reinforce the foundation, also noticed the changes. She looked up at the sun and then directed her gaze toward the central tent, where she indeed spotted Gawain, his expression serious as he stared at the sun.
She rushed to Gawain's side. "Ancestor, it seems it's another sunspot."
Gawain waved his hand, signaling her to remain quiet, his eyes fixated on the sun while his attention was focused on the mental image.
After a while, the red areas on the sun's surface ceased to grow, and a new line of text appeared on the monitoring image: "New data: Giant planet activity has calmed. Alert level lifted."
The red markings on the sun's surface rapidly faded thereafter, and the floating colors in the monitoring image gradually stabilized and returned to their original state.
However, despite the monitoring image's alert being lifted, Gawain's own sense of alarm remained unresolved.
A plethora of new discoveries had transformed into fresh clues, and an influx of leads had accumulated into new questions.
He formulated numerous hypotheses and deductions, some of which were bold to the point of madness, yet he forced himself to suppress these thoughts, first regaining his composure and then seeking the explanation most likely to approach the truth.
"Ancestor… are you alright?" Heidi asked, concerned as she observed Gawain's pallid complexion. "You look unwell…"
Amber had already slipped out of the tent, but the oppressive aura surrounding Gawain kept the typically boisterous half-elf silent. It was only when Heidi broke the silence that Amber felt emboldened to speak. "He bolted out before the sunspots appeared, and it scared me!"
"Heidi, can you sense any fluctuations in magic?" Gawain suddenly turned to her, seriousness etched on his face.
"There was a surge of magical energy just now, making it much easier to cast spells," Heidi nodded. The surge of magic was a normal occurrence when sunspots appeared—indeed, sunspots themselves were a typical phenomenon. However, the frequency of these occurrences had noticeably increased recently. Coupled with the calamity in Cecil and Gawain's earlier warnings, she couldn't help but feel anxious. "Does this mean…?"
Heidi's complexion gradually paled.
"No, it's not yet at the point where monsters will appear," Gawain reassured her, making this assessment based on the absence of any signs of magical corruption in the overhead image and his own experience. As long as the elemental forces in the air remained stable, there would be no issue. "It's just a typical level of sunspots and magic surges…"
"But normally, such surges and sunspots only happen once every three to five years," Heidi said, her concern palpable. "Yet this is the second time in just a few months…"
In truth, Gawain's own sense of worry and tension was no less than Heidi's.
In fact, due to the added concern over his connection to the "monitoring satellite" in the sky, his anxiety was even stronger.
Yet he also understood that he had become the pillar of the entire Cecil territory, especially in front of Heidi and Rebecca; he could not afford to show any signs of weakness or wavering.
Moreover, weakness and indecision wouldn't solve any problems.
"Don't worry, there won't be any monsters. Even if the magical tide does come, I have experience," Gawain reassured his descendant. "Let everyone focus on their tasks—only by building a solid and stable home can we have the means to confront the forces of nature."
Seeing Gawain's confident demeanor, Heidi felt her own unease dissipate. She gave a slight bow and returned to her work.
As Gawain observed Heidi using her magical abilities to assist with the construction, he nodded slightly.
Perhaps Heidi and Rebecca were unable to transcend the thoughts and insights of their era and class, but they possessed a foundation that other nobles of this time did not.
They did not believe they could sever ties with the common folk due to their social status.
Otherwise, a noblewoman like Heidi would never have been found on the construction site using magic to aid in building.
Watching the land rapidly solidify into a foundation under the influence of magic, Gawain marveled at its convenience and realized one more thing: once the necessary infrastructure for minting coins was in place, hiring some destitute hedge wizards to assist in constructing the camp might be a good idea.
However, before that, there were more pressing issues that required careful consideration.
Gawain returned to the tent, sitting back at his desk. He swiftly wrote down three questions on a blank sheet of paper:
What is the relationship between the sun in the sky and the magical tide on the ground? What might be the role and current status of the "monitoring satellite"? Why did Gawain Cecil leave behind a crystal capable of reestablishing contact with the satellite seven hundred years ago?