Chapter 1198 — The Project at Covenant Fortress
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 5
The first batch of Alliance troops sent to support Talrond would remain on that northern continent for a full year of rotating duty, until the next wave of reconstruction forces arrived to relieve them. But before that, the military personnel responsible for escort and the initial handover had already completed their mission, and today they returned to Northport on the northern border of the Cecil Empire — after so many days apart, setting foot on imperial soil once more made even a hulking fellow like Byron sigh with feeling.
Since the human nations lost the protection of the Storm Church seven hundred years ago and were sealed off on this continent by the Endless Sea, mortal ships had at last truly challenged that boundless ocean once more: they had crossed the frigid ice seas, visited a continent far beyond the borders of human civilization, and returned safely. This feat was certain to be written into the history books.
"All these years following His Majesty, and it's nothing but one history-book affair after another," Byron said, standing at the edge of the upper deck and shaking his head. "I'm almost looking forward to seeing what it'll be like when my name shows up in a school textbook..."
"Rest assured, sir — by the time students get to that history lesson, they'll curse you every time they see your name," came the voice of his adjutant from beside him. The imperial officer in naval uniform wore a cheerful smile. "Because they'll have to memorize word for word how many days you spent standing in the sea wind on the wastelands of Talrond — and on top of that, a whole pile of other historical events you took part in."
Byron turned his head to glance at the man who had followed him from the southern border all the way to this day, and raised an eyebrow: "Attention! About face!"
The adjutant instinctively straightened and turned around, and Byron promptly planted a kick on his backside: "If you've got time for that nonsense, get moving on the landing handover!!"
The adjutant twisted aside, so that only the tip of Byron's boot grazed the edge of his uniform, then shouted "Yes, sir!" and went laughing and scrambling down the deck. Byron merely curled his lip in indifference, drew back his leg, and looked up at the sky — the red-armored dragon circling high above was gradually descending, the whistle of its vast wings cutting the air reaching the ears of the Wintertide's crew. After a series of decelerations and adjustments of aim, she finally descended toward the warship's upper deck, and when she was still several dozen meters from the ship she let out a low roar, her whole body wreathed in a shifting radiance.
With a loud bang, the red-haired dragon-marked witch coalesced out of the radiance and landed straight on the deck not far behind Byron, dropping to one knee in a dashing, crisp pose before slowly rising. The heat of the residual magic spread outward from her, and within the faintly warping curtain of heat, Asharena's tall, slightly feral silhouette took shape.
Byron watched the whole scene from a short distance with a frown, and only once Asharena had risen did he finally mutter: "Could you next time jump from a bit closer? Every time it's dozens of meters..."
"Are you underestimating a dragonkin's physique?" Asharena waved a hand carelessly as she stepped out of the heat haze. "From that height, even a transcendent knight like you wouldn't be hurt, let alone me. When I was a child I jumped from higher places than that."
"No, I mean don't smash up my deck," Byron said, looking with a worried face at the spot where Asharena had just landed. "Do you know how much it costs to repair a dent like that? Never mind that I'll have to write a report when I get back..."
Asharena: "..."