[V12C8] Flight & Return

Cyril organized the documents and reference materials, then performed the final check. By the time he departed the Ascard Grand Library, the sun was already starting to set.

Time was of the essence if he intended to submit everything to the palace before the end of the day. However, Raul proposed an alternative.

“How about this? I’ll explain everything to the Council, and you take a copy to Sazandol.”

“Sazandol?”

Monica lived in Sazandol, so she was the first person to come to mind. In addition, the Abyss Shaman and the former Thorn Witch were stationed there as well.

The city was also mentioned in the Starseer Witch’s prophecy.

“Even if I use my authority as a Sage, the Council will need time to reach a decision,” Raul explained.

“So you want me to bring this information to Monica first?”

“Yeah, just to let her and Ray know about the hypothesis we came up with. Also, I want to hear if they have any comments.”

As Raul suggested, the Council was not necessarily going to accept their proposal immediately. The discussion would likely take time due to budget and personnel reasons.

In which case, it was best to give the Sages waiting in Sazandol advanced warning, allowing them more time to adjust their plans.

Most importantly, they wanted input from the Silent Witch, the foremost researcher on magical formulas, and the Abyss Shaman, the most knowledgeable about dark magic. These were their areas of expertise.

Cyril could see the reasoning behind Raul’s approach.

“Besides, my sister always says, ‘there’s nothing wrong with getting information faster.’”

“I see. Lady Melissa is a wise woman. She understands the importance of sharing information as quickly as possible.”

“Well, no, she’s just impatient…” Raul mumbled.

Meanwhile, the white weasel Thule peeked out from Cyril’s coat collar.

“Cyril, Cyril, are you going to Sazandol?”

“Yeah, I’ll arrange for a carriage tomo…”

“In that case, leave it to me.”

Thule’s words caused Cyril to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

He had been teaching Thule and Pikeh about human society for about two months now. Finally, Thule was capable enough to arrange a carriage on his own. Cyril felt like a father watching the growth of his children.

“It’s getting dark soon, so this seems like a good time,” Thule continued.

“…Huh?”

＊　＊　＊

Thule’s request of “an open space where no one is watching” led Raul to suggest the forest next to the Roseberg estate.

“Is around here good?” Raul asked, raising his lantern in the dark forest.

The white weasel riding Cyril’s shoulder nodded with his small head.

“Yeah, this should be wide enough… Can you move a bit further away?”

Thule jumped down from Cyril’s shoulder and ran forward using his short limbs. Suddenly, his body was enveloped in a white light. The mass of white light swelled, becoming much, much larger than Cyril.

This mass morphed into the shape of honed claws and expansive wings. Once the light finally receded, they found themselves before a beautiful dragon with white scales. This was Thule’s true form, the White Dragon of Mount Kalug.

White dragons were the dragons most resistant to cold, but also the most fragile.

Thule had suffered severe injuries in an attack by humans seeking his scales. But now, he was gradually healing thanks to the mana from Cyril.

Apparently, the mana supply from the Forbidden Archives and the Roseberg family forest was particularly helpful.

His scales had returned to perfect condition; there were no longer any visible scars.

(But has he really recovered to the point of being able to fly..?)

As if to dispel Cyril’s worries, Thule let out a quiet roar.

The roars of dragons were spoken in the language of spirits. Cyril had studied reading and writing, but listening comprehension was not his strong suit.

As Cyril did his best to decipher Thule’s words, the golden weasel Pikeh whispered from his shoulder.

“Thule says he’s not fully healed, but there’s no problem flying.”

“…I see.”

It would take a considerable amount of time to travel from the capital to Sazandol by land. This time would be significantly reduced if flying was an option.

That said, Cyril had a concern, which was conveyed by Raul’s next question.

“But how are you going to ride Thule? Do we tie you to his back or something? I didn’t bring any rope, so maybe you can use my rose vines as a substitute?”

Being crucified to Thule with rose vines? Or should he freeze his own limbs to Thule, or just cling on with sheer willpower? Which was preferable?

As Cyril seriously contemplated these options, Pikeh jumped onto Thule’s back and provided an alternative.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do this.”

The weasel was enveloped in golden light, which promptly transformed.

Instead of ending in her usual appearance as a young woman, the clump of light kept spreading across Thule’s back. Once the light finally cleared, Pikeh had become a woman sitting on a saddle and holding a set of reins.

Cyril widened his eyes at the saddle attached to Thule’s back.

“Pikeh… You made this?”

“Yeah. The same way I make clothes or guns.”

Pikeh sometimes carried two guns at her waist when she transformed into a human. This was camouflage to hide the fact that she was a spirit when fighting in public.

However, these guns were only hollow shells to give the impression that she was firing bullets. They did not have any functionality.

She had created the saddle and reins in the same way.

“They’ll crumble away as soon as I stop touching them,” Pikeh explained. “Anything I materialize is temporary.”

“I see… Does that mean you can create anything as long as it’s just the form?”

“No. I can’t make anything too complicated or too big.”

Even so, Cyril was once again amazed by the power of the ice spirit Ashelpikeh.

This technique required extremely delicate mana manipulation, which only a few greater spirits could hope to match. Perhaps this feat was unique to the legendary Ashelpikeh, who had lived since ancient times.

Meanwhile, Thule let out a roar, which was translated by Pikeh.

“He says, ‘Don’t worry, it’s like a baby carrier.’”

Raul burst into laughter.

Cyril glared at Raul from the corner of his eye as he retorted, “Thule, this is a saddle and reins, not a baby carrier.”

Thule let out another roar.

Cyril somehow understood what that meant: “Is that so?”

Cyril mounted Thule with Pikeh’s help. He firmly grabbed the reins, with Pikeh sitting behind him.

Thule let out a short roar.

“He’s asking if you’re ready.”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Thule began slowly flapping his wings. His thick legs kicked off the earth, propelling his body into flight.

Raul waved his hand enthusiastically from the ground.

“Say hi to Monica for me!”

“Take care of the council, Raul!”

In response to Cyril, Raul thrust his fist up and grinned.

“Leave it to me!”

Raul seemed so carefree, and yet, Cyril was confident that everything would be okay.

Cyril tightened the reins and gazed at the dark sky in front of him.

(So I’ll do what I can too.)

The white dragon soared through the moonlit sky. The hair of the young man and ice spirit on his back fluttered in the night wind.

＊　＊　＊

After watching his friend fly off into the night sky, Raul headed to the Magic Corps headquarters.

It was already far past dinner time, so most people were starting to prepare for bed. Even so, he knew that their commander Louis was still awake.

And it wasn’t just him. Bradford, Rutherford, the disciples of the Seven Sages, and the personnel of the Magic Corps were staying up late. Everyone was doing their best to prepare for the unprecedented disaster prophesied by the Starseer Witch.

However, Raul sensed something off the moment he arrived.

He assumed that many people were working late, which was true. But all of them seemed incredibly tense and busy.

Raul considered grabbing someone to inquire about the situation, when he caught a glimpse of Louis at the back of the station.

Louis was walking at a brisk pace, his eyes gleaming as if about to go into battle. His chestnut hair was still cut short at the nape.

Louis paused to greet Raul.

“You’ve come at a good time, Thorn Witch-dono… I have some good news and some bad news.”

“I only want to hear the good news.”

Ignoring Raul’s request, Louis pressed his finger against his monocle and continued.

“Theodore Maxwell has employed Gluttonous Zoe to launch a wide-range attack on the city of Sazandol, resulting in extensive casualties. Not only that, he has also blockaded the city gates, trapping the remaining citizens inside.”

Raul went speechless. The bad news was way worse than he expected.

What’s more, Cyril had just headed to Sazandol!

As Raul stood stunned, Louis quickly continued.

“We will be sending troops to Sazandol immediately. The remaining Sages will be coming too, so you should prepare for…”

“H-Hold on! We can’t send everyone to Sazandol! My friend Cyril… he noticed something important! It could affect the entire kingdom of Ridill…!”

“Is this related to Gluttonous Zoe?”

Louis gave Raul a suspicious look.

This was a critical turning point. Of course, Cyril had just gone to Sazandol, so they still needed to send reinforcements there. But they couldn’t afford to send everyone.

Raul was determined to convince Louis using the documents in his hands, the crystallization of his friend’s efforts. He suddenly realized that several of the documents were missing.

“W-What? Huh…!?”

Had he accidentally dropped them somewhere on the way here? If so, this was no laughing matter.

As Raul went pale, he heard a voice from behind him.

“Oh, no wonder that reference looked familiar… To think someone actually read my thesis.”

This was the amused voice of a woman.

Raul turned around to find a woman glancing through the missing documents. Her reddish-brown hair was spilling down her robe.

She seemed thin and pale, as if having recently recovered from an illness. Nevertheless, her eyes gleamed with intellectual curiosity as they scanned the documents.

Next to the woman stood a beautiful blonde maid, Louis’s contracted spirit.

The wind spirit Rynzbelfied turned her gaze toward Raul’s hand. The next instant, the rest of the documents flew over to her, stopping in mid-air for the woman to read.

Once the woman had finished going through all the documents, she put on a joyous smile. The smile of a scholar intrigued by an alluring theory.

“Wow, someone compiled data on the nationwide mana concentration shifts and records of past dragon disasters. Oh, and even inferred data on ocean mana based on fish harvests… Quite thorough. This must be the work of the Marquis Highown from the Lineage of Knowledge. Or am I wrong?”

The woman glanced at Raul without turning her head.

Raul puffed out his chest and answered confidently.

“The son of Marquis Highown and I worked together to make it.”

“Then you guys did a good job. Send a copy to Duke Crockford before presenting it to the Noble Council. That should speed things up… Louis! Put the deployment on hold for now.”

These were the words of the prodigious witch who could manipulate seven magics simultaneously. She had been in a coma until now.

——Carla Maxwell the Starspear Witch.

Raul glanced at Louis and noticed something. The mark on the back of his neck was gone.

“Oh, by the way, Louis-san. The good news you mentioned…”

“We have completed the verification on the shadow removal spell, but resuscitating the victims from their comas requires multiple casters and a great deal of time. The Starspear Witch had been in that state for the longest, so we revived her first. Well, in other words…”

Louis put on a triumphant smirk, revealing a glimpse of his fangs.

“Carla Maxwell is back in action.”

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