Chapter 745

Ja-han and Nigel, after a heated argument about the pride of the East and West, decided to settle the unfinished business from last time and headed back to the cabin.

Maybe they’re planning to arm wrestle or something… Well, they did break a table once, so hopefully, they’ll restrain themselves this time.

I turned my attention away from them and wandered around the deck, puffing on my cigarette.

Rana, Milia, and Asha also went back to the cabin, complaining about the cold and exhaustion, leaving the deck eerily quiet except for the hum of the engines.

Ophelia? She wasn’t even on the deck for long.

As soon as we reached cruising altitude, she stormed into the engine room, probably fascinated by the magitech applied to the airship.

The crew looked uneasy, but no one had the guts to stop the only high-level magician on board, who also happened to be a vassal of Marquis Median.

Honestly, if they had that much courage, they wouldn’t be researchers in the Mage Tower but combatants instead.

Thanks to that, Ophelia slammed the engine room door open and didn’t come back for a long time.

She’s probably cornering some idle magicians there and bombarding them with jargon-filled conversations that even I can’t understand. Typical mage behavior.

In other words, the only person left on the deck was me… no, make that two, including Damien.

I flicked the ash off my cigarette and turned to look at Damien.

Damien was standing motionless near the bow, eyes closed, with his greatsword planted upside down on the deck, hands resting on the hilt’s counterweight.

The strong headwind made his cloak and armor skirt flutter like wings.

He’s really putting on a show.

Anyone would think he’s some kind of knight king.

—

“What’s with the brooding? Something bothering you?”

I walked over to Damien and chuckled, trying to strike up a conversation while my cigarette burned out.

“Huh? Oh, no, just thinking about something.”

Damien opened his eyes, looked at me, and shook his head.

Thinking, huh…

Well, even if he’s an emotionless, clueless boy, he’s still the Empire’s hero and future savior. It’s only natural he’d be worried about what’s ahead.

Nidhogg might’ve been cut in half, but it’s no pushover, and now he’s got fairies and dragonkin to deal with too.

Considering that the only ones who can take on a Fairy Guardian alone are me, Damien, and Milia, it’s no wonder he’s feeling the weight on his shoulders.

Even though Damien lacks emotions, his sense of responsibility is as strong as mine.

Maybe I should give him some advice.

I patted Damien’s shoulder and gave him a wise, elder-like smile.

“What’s on your mind? Tell me. Professor Ha-shal-leur here will give you the solution.”

“It’s about my ‘Sky Step’…”

Damien spoke in a tone that sounded way too serious.

Sky Step… is he worried about his Heroic Tale?

Well, it hasn’t been long since he awakened it, so it’s natural he’d have questions or concerns.

“What about Sky Step? Something bothering you?”

If that’s the case, he’s come to the right person. No one in this world knows more about Damien’s Heroic Tale than me.

“If I raced this ship, who would win? I think I’m faster, but considering flight time, the airship might have the upper hand…”

…What the hell?

I quickly caught the cigarette falling from my lips and let out a hollow laugh.

Is this guy for real? I thought he was worrying about something important, but he’s just thinking about racing the ship? Unbelievable.

Who would win in a race? Why does that even matter?

“If you want to know, you’d have to test it… but we’ve got a big battle coming up, so I’m not sure if I should waste my energy on it.”

“…That’s what you’re worried about?”

I sighed deeply, picking the cigarette out of my chest and putting it back in my mouth.

I looked at Damien with a mix of pity and disdain.

…Is this guy some kind of bird in his past life or something?

His obsession with the sky, the wings sprouting from his back, and his empty head—he’s practically a sparrow.

‘I should’ve cut his legs off before he grew wings.’

[If you had, he’d just jump higher and fly farther. Unless you cut his throat, half-hearted adversity only makes a warrior stronger.]

Since that might’ve been true, I didn’t argue with Hersela and instead smacked the back of Damien’s head.

Of course, I held back so I wouldn’t kill him.

– Thwack!

Surprisingly, Damien reflexively twisted his body and blocked my hand with his greatsword. His reaction was impressively quick.

…Well, even so, he couldn’t overcome the difference in strength, so instead of getting hit on the back of the head, he ended up smacking himself in the face with the flat of his sword.

“Ugh…!”

Damien let out a groan and fell backward after his intense kiss with his sword.

“Hmm. You’ve gotten faster. Must be thanks to your fight with Nidhogg.”

“Why’d you hit me all of a sudden?”

Damien sat on the deck, holding his face where the sword had hit him, looking utterly wronged.

What’s with that face? Like you did something wrong.

“Because I’m annoyed. I was seriously thinking about your so-called ‘important’ concern, and it turns out you’re just thinking about racing the ship. I wasted my worry on you.”

I felt like kicking him off the deck.

Maybe free-falling from tens of kilometers up would knock some sense into him.

Of course, that wouldn’t work.

Unless I shattered his bones and organs while kicking him, he’d just spread his wings and fly back up like nothing happened.

…Or start racing the airship, like he said.

“Stop thinking nonsense and go get some sleep. If I catch you sneaking out at dawn to race the ship, I’ll tie you to the stern with a rope and leave you hanging for four days. Got it?”

I shot Damien a warning and stubbed out my cigarette before heading into the cabin.

Damien would probably follow soon. I made sure to convey my seriousness, even to someone as emotionless as him.

The threat of hanging him for four days was just that—a threat—but if he really went ahead and wasted his energy like that… even if Milia stopped me, I’d still hang him for two days.

It’s not like he’d die if the rope broke, so it’s not really dangerous.

—

– Creak.

The sound of friction echoed with every step.

Unlike the metal-plated exterior, the interior of the cabin was made of wooden planks, just like a regular sailing ship.

The upper deck had seven rooms, a dining area, and a shared bathing facility, while the lower deck housed the engine room and the sleeping quarters for the Mage Tower crew.

Unlike us, who had private rooms, the lower deck was so cramped by the engine room that five people had to share a single room to sleep.

You’d think mages wouldn’t tolerate such conditions, but apparently, just having a place to sleep was ten times better than the Mage Tower.

There, they’d sleep curled up on the floor of the lab with their robes as blankets.

At this point, I’m starting to wonder if the Mage Tower really is the Empire’s top magical research institution.

Its reputation as the center of magitech research might just be a facade, and in reality, it’s more like a labor camp for slaves tricked into a national-scale scam.

“…Wouldn’t it be better to just quit and become a vassal for some lord?”

“That’s… not an option for us…”

A mage on duty for the airship’s control tearfully explained their situation.

In a way, it’s unfair, but in another, it’s their own fault.

Apparently, before Floheta took over as Tower Master, life for Mage Tower researchers wasn’t this harsh. It was actually quite luxurious.

But after it was revealed that the Grimnir Church Order and the upper echelons of the Mage Tower were colluding, their lives went from heaven to hell.

The high-level magicians arrested for collusion were the leaders of the Mage Tower’s factions, mentors to the research mages, and their seniors.

With all of them gone, the remaining mages were left with only two choices.

Either follow their mentors to prison and wait for execution, or sign a lifelong contract agreeing to serve the Mage Tower without complaint.

Most chose the latter, and Floheta, having secured their consent, now works them 20 hours a day to extract research results.

Ironically, Floheta herself doesn’t sleep, dedicating herself to research, so the mages can’t even complain about her.

“That’s… too bad.”

I shrugged and offered a half-hearted consolation.

Too bad Ophelia didn’t hear this. She’d realize just how generous I am.