"No signs of danger ahead. Path is clear for transit."
High up in the sky, Jeanne scanned the surrounding roads to ensure the landship's upcoming route remained unobstructed. Truth be told, none of them—Jeanne included—trusted the local Victorian authorities to play nice.
In their minds, it would be far more suspicious if the Victorian military let them leave without pulling a few dirty tricks along the way. Nobody expected genuine goodwill from Victoria.
If not for those persistent doubts, Jeanne wouldn't be flying ahead on wyvern-back in this terrible weather. Dense, dark storm clouds choked the sky, threatening rain at any second.
"Um... thank you for your hard work! Miss Jeanne, are you alright?" Back aboard Rhodes Island, Amiya greeted her with a warm, sympathetic smile, eyeing the thoroughly drenched girl who looked like a drowned rat.
Jeanne stared blankly into space. She had anticipated the sudden rainstorm, but getting caught in a downpour just moments before reaching the vessel had left her thoroughly soaked and utterly dazed.
"It's nothing... I just didn't react fast enough when the weather turned," Jeanne waved a hand dismissively, trying to ignore her wet, heavy clothes. At least finding a clear path ahead made the shower worthwhile. "By the way, the route ahead matches your reports—there isn't a single farmland in sight."
"Oh! Miss Talulah mentioned she was looking for you," Amiya blurted out, remembering her original reason for waiting at the bay. "She asked you to head straight to her quarters the moment you returned."
What is she in such a rush for? Puzzled, Jeanne thanked Amiya and made her way toward Talulah's room.
Stepping inside, Jeanne immediately caught sight of a solemn Talulah staring intensely at a letter in her hands, lost in thought.
"What happened? Why the heavy face?" Jeanne asked, stepping closer with a look of concern.
Judging by Talulah's grim expression, whatever she wanted to discuss was far from a trivial matter—and likely urgent.
"You're finally back," Talulah glanced up, her stern posture breaking into a slight smirk as she took in Jeanne's drenched appearance. "Got caught in the rain on your way back, didn't you?"
With a casual flick of her wrist, Talulah channeled her fire Arts, surrounding Jeanne with a gentle wave of warmth. Within seconds, the heat dried Jeanne's clothes and hair completely, saving her room from getting soaked.
"How unexpected," Jeanne mused, adjusting her collar. "If you had done something like this a few months ago, I'd have suspected you were trying to burn the evidence after silencing me."
Thinking back to how Talulah's flames used to incinerate everything flammable in sight whenever she used her Arts, this delicate display felt almost surreal.
"Stop looking at me through your old lens!" Talulah huffed, her tail flicking in mild irritation. "I worked really hard to refine my control over my Arts! I even practiced in secret while you were sleeping."
Remembering all the late nights she spent practicing precise heat control only to still feel outmatched by the girl in front of her, Talulah felt a strong urge to smack her with her tail.
"Alright, alright! I know you worked hard," Jeanne offered a few quick words of comfort to soothe the moody Draco. "So why were you looking for me so urgently? Don't tell me you just wanted to catch up because you missed me."
Jeanne gestured toward the letter in Talulah's hand. If it was this urgent, had a new complication popped up without them noticing?
"I almost forgot about the letter seeing you like that!" Talulah sighed, handing over the parchment as she explained the situation. "It's an invitation from the Grand Duke. He expressed a desire to speak with me about the Tarans before I depart Victoria, asking if I would accept a meeting."
Jeanne took the letter, skimming through the elegant handwriting. The tone was surprisingly polite—though she knew better than to take aristocratic manners at face value.
Reading through the lines, Jeanne sensed that the local nobles were planning something. But why make such an unnecessary move at this stage? Was it purely because of Talulah's presence?
"Did he mention a meeting location?" Jeanne asked, looking up.
"He did," Talulah nodded, pointing toward the bottom of the page.
It listed the name of a high-speed flagship—a legendary landship well known throughout Victoria. But the fact that he expected them to step onto his own warship for a chat made Jeanne's eyebrows jump.
That was out of the question! Jeanne knew how dangerous that would be, and Talulah was hardly naive enough to walk blindly into an enemy stronghold.
"So... you're actually planning to accept his invitation and board that landship all by yourself to meet that old man?" Jeanne looked straight into Talulah's eyes, trying to gauge her true intentions.
If Talulah had truly made up her mind to go alone, Jeanne would need to prepare herself. No matter what, she wouldn't let her friend walk into a trap unaccompanied.
"Actually, I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in coming along with me," Talulah admitted, her eyes fixed on Jeanne with expectant hope. "To be honest, going alone makes me a bit uneasy. But if you're by my side, everything will be different."
Jeanne rolled her eyes at the Draco. So she wasn't just planning to go—she wanted to drag a bystander along to face the Grand Duke together.
"Fine, I'll go with you," Jeanne agreed without a second thought. Leaving Talulah to walk into that place alone was something Jeanne couldn't bring herself to allow anyway.
So long as she was by Talulah's side, Jeanne was confident she could bring her back safely, regardless of what traps or figures awaited them aboard that ship.
Still... the letter stated the Grand Duke would be waiting along Rhodes Island's path in three days' time. Didn't that mean he already knew their exact route out of Victoria? He had positioned himself in advance, ensuring that whether Talulah agreed or not, a face-to-face encounter was inevitable.
Jeanne pondered the implications as word of the invitation quickly reached Kal'tsit.
The doctor treated the matter with utmost gravity. A formidable high-speed warship was currently tracking parallel to Rhodes Island, and altering their course now would not allow them to shake it off.
Had the Duke chosen to launch an assault, Kal'tsit knew Rhodes Island lacked the heavy armaments to withstand a direct naval engagement from a dedicated warship.
"I will not offer an opinion on your decision," Kal'tsit said, her gaze sweeping over the two determined young women. "However, keep one thing in mind: no matter what difficulties you encounter aboard that vessel, your personal safety comes above all else."
Knowing she couldn't dissuade them, Kal'tsit offered no discouragement, simply urging them to exercise extreme caution.
Three days passed in a flash.
Through the mist, Jeanne and Talulah spotted the massive high-speed warship moving at a measured pace in the distance—the Gastrell.
It was the prized flagship of the Duke of Iron himself. And currently, the aged noble stood upon its upper deck, patiently awaiting the arrival of his guests.