Wellington, the silver-haired veteran, stood upon the deck of his grand warship. His eyes followed the wyvern soaring through the clouds, a inscrutable light glimmering in his dark gaze.
"Tell me, what do you make of such a creature?" the old man asked, casting a backward glance at the stoic adjutant beside him—half curious, half testing the officer's tactical mind.
The adjutant, rigid in his sharp uniform, broke into a subtle startle before looking up at the sky. He paused for a moment of silence before offering his appraisal.
"It is a fascinating beast, Your Grace. Considering its size and the raw combat prowess we've recorded in field reports, it is a formidable threat. Most importantly... it represents one of the few airborne beasts on this continent that can be trained and deployed in large numbers."
He kept his eyes fixed on the creature overhead. Any soldier worth his salt understood what dominance over the skies meant in a land war; it was a rare, untamed force capable of moving completely free of terrain.
"Yes... the sky," the Duke of Iron murmured, lingering on the words as if savoring a distant thought.
Terran nations lacked true air forces not because they dismissed the tactical value of the sky, but simply because the engineering capacity to sustain heavy aviation did not exist.
The closest thing any army had to air support was a fleet of fragile, armed drones—toys compared to the biological menace sweeping over their heads.
In an era where no army could easily lay claim to the open air, a force capable of taking to the skies at will possessed the power to shatter drawn-out deadlocks and completely rewrite the flow of battle.
"Ever since word spread that Ursus lost a vessel to an airborne assault, every nation on Terra has been scrambling for a way into the clouds," the adjutant added, excitement creeping into his voice. "Though none have managed to build a proper prototype."
The news had sent shockwaves across the great powers. Every court began dreaming of sovereign flight, yet every single attempt had ended in wasted fortune and zero progress.
"If our forces possessed a contingent of such beasts, our coming operations would prove far simpler," the adjutant admitted, clearly picturing Victorian soldiers taking flight across the high clouds. "It could break the current stalemate entirely."
Yet he knew it was a pipe dream. Where these creatures even originated remained a mystery; outside of Reunion's ranks, no trace of them had ever been discovered anywhere on Terra.
That was the most baffling part. No matter how rare a species might be, it was impossible for an entire herd to leave no historical footprint—it was as if they had sprung straight out of the rocks.
For nearly two years, Victoria had dispatched search parties across the wildlands, yet they hadn't uncovered so much as a stray scale. The failure left their military intelligence scratching their heads in absolute frustration.
Seeing the legendary beast up close today rekindled a desperate curiosity within him. Where on Terra did these creatures breed?
"If we could obtain them, would it truly tip the scales in our favor?" Wellington asked in a low monologue, his eyes never leaving the airborne shape.
By now, the wyvern had descended within striking distance. The gunners stationed along the upper decks knew that if the creature dropped its guard, a focused volley from the heavy batteries could shred it to pieces.
Of course, nobody dared order such a strike. The riders were the Duke's invited guests; attacking them before they even touched the deck would bring eternal disgrace to the Duke of Iron's name.
With a heavy gust of wind, Jeanne and Talulah landed on a wide open section of the main deck, guided by signaling crewmen. On either side stood rows of Victorian soldiers standing stiffly in formal procession—a grand display meant not only to welcome their guests, but to showcase the iron discipline of Wellington's army.
"Welcome aboard my warship, ladies. Truth be told, this is a rare occasion," the silver-haired Duke said, stepping forward with an effortless stride. He was surrounded by a staff of stern Victorian officers. "Since the day her construction was finished, this vessel has rarely played host to guests. If there are any shortcomings in our hospitality, I ask for your understanding."
Talulah and Jeanne finally stood face to face with the legendary figure whose voice they had heard so many times before. The old man wore a traditional Victorian dress uniform; unlike those around him, his coat carried an unmistakable weight of authority, the row of medals across his chest quietly telling the story of a lifetime spent in bloody, glorious campaigns.
Deep scars lined his weathered face, but far from making him look grotesque, they gave him an aura of unyielding majesty.
"Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace," Talulah said, giving a polite nod of acknowledgment as her eyes swept over the surrounding troops and heavy artillery. "It is quite something to stand aboard Victoria's legendary warship. A remarkable sight."
The Victorian soldiers stood like iron statues, refusing to so much as glance at the two visitors, staring straight ahead into the empty air with absolute, disciplined silence.
"I am pleased my flagship meets your approval," the Duke smiled faintly, before turning his gaze toward the massive creature resting behind them. "Though... I must ask how we ought to accommodate your mount. Is there anything special required for its care?"
Wellington looked at the beast with a flicker of genuine interest, almost wanting to reach out and touch its heavy hide, though the monster's cold glare made him abandon the idea.
"What does it eat? Are there any specific arrangements we should make?"
It eats people and loves gold, Jeanne thought to herself with a deadpan expression. Naturally, she kept that bit of trivia to herself, knowing it was a fast track to getting them shot at.
"No need," Jeanne answered aloud. "It can just stay right here on the deck. It's best if your men keep their distance, though—it has a terribly short temper."
She genuinely worried that a curious soldier might wander too close and try to pat it. If things turned ugly, it would be a bloody mess nobody wanted to clean up.
While the creature acted like an obedient pet around Jeanne, dragon blood still flowed through its veins, and its feral instincts remained primed just beneath the surface.
If Jeanne looked away and someone inadvertently provoked it... Jeanne preferred not to imagine the gory outcome.
"Very well. We shall have the quartermaster bring up some raw meat shortly," an adjutant chimed in, offering the suggestion after catching a subtle nod from the Duke. He carefully observed Jeanne's reaction as he spoke.
Seeing that Jeanne didn't voice an objection, the officer quickly gestured to a few nearby soldiers, whispering a quiet set of orders before sending them off.
"I have long wished for a face-to-face meeting with you both," Wellington said, leading Jeanne and Talulah along the broad walkways of the upper deck. "The path you two have walked and the deeds you've accomplished... even an old man who has seen it all finds himself thoroughly intrigued."
He brought up their past in Ursus, specifically how they had managed to wrest control of a core mobile city.
Knowing the sheer brutality of Ursus all too well, Wellington found the feat utterly strange. Since when did the madmen of Deity Grypherburg allow an independent force to claim one of their precious cities without retaliation?
Looking at them now, it was obvious neither woman was a puppet pushed forward by Ursus court factions; they commanded a truly independent, sovereign force.
"It was mostly a stroke of good fortune," Talulah replied modestly. "Without that luck, we would never have made it this far."
"Luck, you say?" Wellington chuckled softly, stepping past rows of glistening deck cannons as his guards flanked them in strict formation. "Luck is indeed a precious commodity. If not for a fair share of luck myself, an old soldier like me wouldn't have survived to stand on this deck today."