Chapter 941 — The Flight Over

To him it seemed a bit too fanciful, and by his own values it felt quite inappropriate: "Fixing a table and chairs on you... I think that would be a little disrespectful to you..."

"It makes no difference to me," Metze said offhandedly. "Setting up these 'testing apparatus' on my back and setting up anything else—there's not much difference."

Gaoyang thought it over, and to be honest, for that instant a lazy urge did stir in him, but he quickly shook his head. "No, better not. I still feel it wouldn't be proper. It's a journey of less than a day in any case..."

Hardly had he finished speaking when he heard Amber beside him mutter, seemingly under her breath, "Actually, I think it'd be fine..."

Gaoyang turned and glared at the half-elf, who, without changing expression, shrank her neck. "Of course, it can also be not fine..."

Metze took it all in. She offered no opinion—there was even a faint smile lingering at the corners of her mouth the whole time; though to outsiders that smile might look rather ferocious, she was in fact in a genuinely excellent mood. "So, is there anything else to arrange? If not, you may begin transferring these things onto my back. Don't worry about securing them—for me that takes only a little spellwork."

Gaoyang promptly said there was no problem, and then, coordinated by a senior attendant, the workers on the scene began transferring the "testing apparatus" one by one onto the blue dragon's back, using anti-gravity runes, traction spells, and the power of mage hand.

Throughout this, the crew doing the installation were visibly a little nervous, but with Metze's rather friendly cooperation, the whole process went smoothly through to the end.

Only after the last installer had left her back did Metze shift her body slightly; the large devices fixed upon her back sat perfectly steady, not shifting in the least.

"Feels quite light—lighter than I imagined," she said. "By comparison, the aerial bombs I helped you transport back then were heavier."

At this casual mention, Gaoyang could not help the corners of his mouth curling up into an awkward yet courteous smile, and then he cleared his throat twice. "Now it's our turn."

Metze checked the positions of Gaoyang and the other two from the corner of her eye, then adjusted her posture slightly and lowered one great wing a little more. The broad, hard-scaled wing formed a gentle ramp connecting the plaza floor to the towering dragon's back, and the blue dragon lady said briefly, with a smile, "Please."

Soon we set out for Tal'lund...

Gaoyang raised his head and glanced at the "ramp" before him. After a very brief moment of reflection, he strode forward and began to climb it.

Amber and Victoria followed close behind.

The three Great Consuls—Hedy, Victoria, and Baiyu—stood not far off, with the senior officials of the Bureau of State Affairs who had come to see him off ranged behind them. Every neck craned upward, every eye fixed unblinking on the scene; some recorded the precious moment on their magical-net terminals, while others instinctively started forward, only to be held back by those beside them.

Gaoyang looked back over his shoulder—he had climbed high enough now to look down on them all.

In a situation like this, it seemed he ought to say a few ceremonial words to inspire or reassure them—to declare that he would return safely, or that this diplomatic visit would yield some splendid achievement. That was the standard script for a hero's "departure." But Gaoyang thought it over carefully and decided it was best to say nothing at all.

His experience as a filmgoer in his previous life had taught him that heroes who spout too much ceremony tend to die out there.

So he simply raised his arm and waved vigorously to them all.

The great dragon soared into the sky.

……

At the summit of Tal'lund's Highest Sanctum, the magnificent golden terrace was bathed in the starlight that would last for the next six months.

An elegant figure with golden hair trailing to the ground stood at the terrace's far end, gazing levelly out over Tal'lund's mountains and cities. She seemed lost in thought, and had held this posture for a very long time.

Heragor lifted his head and looked at the clear, bright firmament.

The atmosphere here was pristine, and the planet's magnetic field interacted with magic to form, above Tal'lund, the finest stargazing window on the entire world. Nowhere was better suited to be the starting point from which mortals peered into the cosmos—and Heragor had always found this a rather ironic thing for the dragon race.

Those glittering stars were reflected in the dragon priest's eyes, and he stared at them until they seemed to suddenly transform into countless cold, watching eyes, until fear and a sense of enclosure welled up from the depths of his soul—only then did he hurriedly shift his gaze and bow his head.

The golden-haired figure at the terrace's edge tilted her head slightly, and a flat voice reached Heragor's ears: "Cherish your life, Heragor—this is the highest place in Tal'lund."

"My... my Lord, I am deeply sorry!" Heragor abruptly prostrated himself, his forehead pressed to the ground. "For a moment I was... dazed..."

"Mortals may err," the voice said, "but you are no ordinary mortal. You stand beside me."

"I... understand."

"Enough. Rise."

To Heragor those words were like music from the heavens. The dragon priest breathed a sigh of relief and rose quickly and reverently.

For some reason, the deity seemed to be in an especially good mood today.

He stole a curious glance ahead but did not dare speak, yet a few seconds later the deity spoke first: "Meitzen has already set out on the return journey—with the guest I invited."

"That human emperor?" Heragor's tone carried curiosity. "Ah... he certainly has nerve, to make his decision so quickly."

"Perhaps nerve, or perhaps merely recklessness," the deity said lightly, though deep within her tone there seemed a thread of pleasure. "In any case, he has finally accepted my invitation."

Heragor gazed at that golden-haired figure, her hair trailing on the ground, and only after a long while did he finally blink.

He did not know whether he was imagining things.

He actually thought he detected... a trace of anticipation in the deity's tone.

This dragon priest, who had lived through ages beyond counting, suddenly grew bemused—he could no longer remember the last time he had seen the goddess show anticipation for anything. Ten thousand years ago? Twenty thousand? Or further still... the Year of the Counter-Tide?

He shook his head and stopped letting his thoughts wander. Reining in his mind, he bathed together with the goddess he had served for most of his life in the starlight of the northern pole.