Chapter 719 — Taking Root

"There's nothing wrong with it," Gao Yang said, his gaze calm. "The Empire urgently needs to recover; this land urgently needs healing. You take root here, heal this place—you have the ability. Let those displaced by the disasters you stirred up return home and fill their bellies. Let the flesh and blood of you and your kin become nourishment for this land. This is the most perfect arrangement—far better than making another pile of ashes out of the plains."

"I don't have the power to heal the whole Holy Spirit Plain. My reach extends only to the Sorin region..."

"Then heal the Sorin region. Our reconstruction efforts need a bridgehead," Gao Yang nodded, then paused. "I'll withdraw half the camp here, but I'll keep the garrison at Sorin Fortress and the southern outposts. You understand what I mean."

Beiyila slowly broke into a smile. "Necessary caution, and necessary goodwill—Brother Gao Yang."

...

The weather was growing colder; winter's footsteps were drawing near. In this nation in the north of the continent, cold air always came earlier than elsewhere—but in the relatively warm southern reaches, the warmth brought by the Giant Sun still clung to the earth with a lingering fondness.

Just past noon, the perfectly measured sunlight shone over the open ground in the eastern suburbs of Xuanyao City. The balmy light dispelled the chill brought by the north wind. Maggie sat on a crate beside the testing ground, tilted her head back to glance at the resplendent disc of the Giant Sun, and narrowed her eyes slightly.

In the Holy Dragon Duchy, there was no such warm sunlight. There it was always ice and snow; the howling cold wind ruled forever over the mountains and wild forests. All of Maggie's memories of her homeland were built upon ice and snow, cold winds, mountains, and those ancient stone structures that seemed like tombs.

And in the many years that followed, her memories were bound up with the mountains of Ansu's northern frontier.

Winterkeep had its warm hearth-fires, but beyond Winterkeep's walls there were still the mountains, the ice and snow, and the endless cold air... Even so, she had loved that place—loved it dearly.

And here, in the southern reaches of the Empire...

The warmth here was unlike anywhere else, and the teeming vitality of this place was a far cry from the rough, hearty life of the northern mountain folk.

This strange new place—it did not feel half bad.

She smiled and looked toward the center of the testing ground.

The arcanotechnical engineers were bustling around a massive, grotesquely shaped machine. Its main structure resembled a squat, thick cone or a spinning top; beneath it floated a large metal ring densely carved with runes, and on either side spread two broad, crescent-shaped wing panels. Above the "top" sat a crude cockpit of metal and crystal glass, and from the cockpit's flanks stretched yet another pair of wing panels, dragon-wing-like, supported by mechanical joints and a steel frame. Its shape was so bizarre that any well-traveled archmage or natural philosopher arriving here would likely have been unable to connect it to anything known, or guess at its purpose.

Yet this outlandish thing was the treasure in everyone's eyes here—the much-respected arcanotechnical engineers were sweating profusely as they hurried about the machine, Rebecca, as chief designer and director, stood to one side controlling the overall situation, and Maggie even spotted nearby that young siren lady named "Tir." This siren, forever languid and short on drive, had actually come to the testing ground as well; right now she was using the tip of her tail to inscribe a sonnet on the ground to fend off the drowsiness brought on by the sunlight, while at the same time straining her eyes wide to observe the Cecil's "new mechanical contraption."

As a visitor from a higher civilization, Tir was not merely a spectator at the testing ground but something of a minor consultant. Though the technological trees of the two races diverged enormously, leaving Tir unable to offer opinions on matters of rune-script, she could at least make a few suggestions on certain technically shared areas—mechanical structure and mechanics, for instance.

The technicians seemed to have finished their final adjustments.

Rebecca was clapping her hands; then the Imperial Princess turned and looked toward where Maggie sat.

"Maggie! It's ready! We're flying again today!! This time it'll work!!"

Maggie gave a faint smile, hopped down from the crate, and walked toward the strange great machine.

Rebecca's chirping voice came from beside her: "...Last time we crashed because of the vibration problem with the control-surface wing panels. We've adjusted the way it's connected this time, so it'll definitely work..."

"Just relax and operate it normally—there are no changes at all in the controls. Those control sticks are perfect.

"We're definitely going to fly this time. This time it's definitely going to fly!"

Rebecca clenched her fist and swung it hard twice, then added one last sentence with a brilliant smile:

"And it'll land smoothly... front side up, at least."

(Book-promotion time!! The book is titled *The Player Is Super Just*, by Bu Qi Shi Xian (looks like a newcomer but is actually a veteran returning to the fold), a book about going mad with mischief after transmigrating into another world and becoming an NPC—mischief-making is just the best.)