Chapter 598 — A Visit to the Typhon Encampment
Blade of Dawn · Page 3 of 4
Facts had proven the policy of systematically registering transcendent professions, granting them state establishment, and enforcing unified management to be effective. Were it not for this "New Policy" begun more than a decade ago, who would dare imagine that "engineering mages" could exist?
Yet as Luoyan gazed at the scene beyond the window, his brows drew slightly together.
In Ansul, in that suddenly risen Duchy of Cecil, they seemed to have walked farther and more thoroughly than Typhon on the road of "employing transcendent power for development"...
Was that road the more correct one?
A rhythmic thud of military boots broke into Luoyan's musings. He turned his head and saw that the young woman knight—firm of gaze, tall of stature, grey hair falling over her shoulders—had already taken her place behind him.
"Your Majesty," the young wolf general, Anluo Wendell, bowed her head in salute, "Lady Silva Farwalker has received word from the courier Soryu. The visitor will soon arrive."
Luoyan was slightly taken aback, but still nodded faintly. "I understand."
Shiva Farstrider was the courier the Silver Empire had dispatched to Typhon, while Soyu Frostleaf was the courier on Anseth's side. Elven couriers were a singular profession; their work was not, as most imagined, merely the delivery of letters and parcels. In truth, they were masters of message-conveying magic—especially the special transmission spells that only couriers could weave among their own kind.
A courier could pass word among kin at negligible cost in mana, so long as the distance was close enough. Shiva Farstrider had now received the signal, which meant Duke Gaoyang Cecil was already near—and that was precisely what caught Royan somewhat off guard: he had not expected the man to arrive so quickly.
"Anluo," the Typhon Emperor said suddenly, "how do you suppose that ancient duke, risen from the dead, has made his way here?"
"Made his way here?" The young wolf general paused a moment, then swiftly grasped the deeper meaning behind the Emperor's question.
For men of the caliber of a guardian duke or an imperial sovereign, a single journey, a single visit, always carried special significance; every gesture along the way was in fact speaking a different "language of negotiation"—
Gaoyang Cecil was coming to the Typhon Empire's encampment, and to do so he had to cross a journey none too short—a journey across the wasteland.
Here monsters roamed everywhere; the outer outposts of the Spire Base came under attack on average once every three days, and in the open, unsheltered wilds, bereft of any protection, the peril could well be imagined.
The very act of crossing the wasteland was itself a display of strength.
He plainly could not borrow an elven giant eagle for the sake of safety and convenience—that would cost him all face.
He could choose to come with a well-equipped, fully provisioned, and sizable guard—and that would be a display of his army and his duchy, even, to a degree, of the might of the Kingdom of Anseth.
He could also, relying on his own legendary strength, come with only a handful of top-tier masters, challenging and crossing the wasteland with a mere few—and that would be a display of his formidable personal martial power.
To an imperial ruler, Royan Augustus was plainly more wary of the former.
"He came quickly," Anluo Wendel said, having worked out the deeper meaning behind the matter, and quickly formed her own judgment. "If he had brought an army of ordinary men, he plainly could not have traveled so fast—so it is very likely he brought only a few guards and crossed this stretch of wasteland on the strength of his own legendary power."
With that, the young female knight could not help shaking her head slightly. "Perhaps the ancient hero of legend is simply a hothead... he has only come to show off his personal might."