Chapter 719: The Sky

Rebecca’s cheerful, chattering voice buzzed nonstop nearby, but Maggie just smiled quietly, her gaze lowered as she inspected the various control sticks, the somewhat rudimentary instruments, and the rune panels before her.

Over these past days, she had memorized every lever and dial so thoroughly that even with her eyes closed, she could accurately find any button or switch in the cockpit.

Tyr, who had been fighting off sleep for a while, now shuffled over with a little nudge. The sea witch seemed to perk up at the sight of Maggie preparing for takeoff. She lifted her head, watching Maggie seated in the cockpit, her tail tip tapping rhythmically on the ground beside her. “Don’t forget to take pictures once you’re up there—though, if you crash right away, make sure to protect yourself first…”

Before she could finish, a few technicians swarmed over and gently dragged the mute sea witch aside.

Maggie smiled softly, watching it all unfold.

Beneath her, the rune modules and mechanical components hummed with a faint vibration. She could feel the massive, intricate machine slowly coming to life.

Steel, crystal, arcane materials, leather, wood, fabric… lifeless materials combined by human hands into a complex shell. Inside this shell sat a dragon that couldn’t fly—yet it was ready to take to the blue sky.

This shell was supposed to provide a sense of security, but so far, in every test, it had only brought danger. Like most new technologies in their experimental stages, it was unstable, riddled with flaws and unpredictable problems. It was anything but safe.

Back when it was still a small-scale prototype, the anti-gravity rings had malfunctioned multiple times, damaging lab walls and ceilings, burning out rune boards on the test benches. As the project progressed, the small test models grew larger, and the entire operation was moved to a “specialized laboratory” in the suburbs, where tests could be conducted in an open field.

The technicians had already stepped back. Maggie closed the cockpit canopy and pressed down on the main control stick. The power spine, fully warmed and charged, began channeling magic into the anti-gravity rings. A stronger vibration pulsed beneath her.

Since moving the tests out of the city, the project no longer posed a threat to bystanders, but the risks for those involved—especially the test pilots—remained high.

The prototype anti-gravity devices and the experimental “dragon wing” mechanisms were both unstable, and combined, even more so. For wingless humans to entrust themselves to such a machine and challenge the sky with these crude devices was a bold, perilous act.

Of course, test pilots could be mages skilled in flight magic, giving them a chance to safely return if the machine failed. But as a test vehicle, the risks went far beyond crashing—midair explosions, loss of control, magical surges could all threaten even the most skilled mage’s life.

Maggie trusted Rebecca and her technical team to face these challenges fearlessly, but she had volunteered herself as the test pilot.

As a great dragon, her body was incredibly strong, with high resistance to magical damage. Even if the craft exploded, she stood a chance of survival. As for falling—though she couldn’t take off on her own from the ground, she could at least glide in her dragon form during descent. Without a doubt, she was the most suitable pilot Cecil had.

In previous test flights, she had “crashed” three times—once sustaining serious injuries. Had it been an ordinary human instead of a humanoid dragon, this project would have claimed at least three lives by now.

Maggie took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, then gripped the main control stick at the center of the console and gently pulled upward.

Beneath the inverted cone-shaped anti-gravity craft, countless runes on the metal anti-gravity rings suddenly flared to life. A low, resonant hum rose from the rings and the craft’s core. Pebbles and dust nearby began to float, rising slowly into the air. The machine, temporarily named “Dragon Rider,” lifted off the ground, ascending steadily.

“Anti-gravity ring output stable. Power spine stable. Dragon wing mechanism stable. Arcane wing plates normal,” Maggie reported smoothly, scanning the console. She continued pulling the stick upward. “Beginning acceleration.”

The craft’s ascent gradually quickened. The crescent-shaped arcane wing plates on either side slowly unfolded under mechanical guidance, stretching out flat. Simultaneously, the “dragon wings” on the cockpit’s sides spread open, pale blue runes lighting up one after another, shimmering softly.

This time, it would succeed—it felt steadier than ever before.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie glimpsed the dragon wing apparatus on both sides of the cockpit. For a fleeting moment, she felt as if those metal wings, crafted to mimic a dragon’s, had truly become an extension of her own body. She gripped the controls tightly, sensing the heartbeat of the machine. She felt the air flowing outside, the wings stretching wide against the wind. She felt… the sky calling to her.

She was flying—higher and higher.

The ground reference points beside the cockpit sank away. The observation window below the front of the cockpit opened, and she saw the huge markers on the test field receding. Gently pushing the control stick forward, everything in her view began to fall behind.

A joyful smile spread across Maggie’s face.

Rebecca tilted her head back, watching the wing plates on the “Dragon Rider” scatter faint particles of light. The heavy machine seemed to transform into a graceful bird, speeding through the sky.

She remembered that last time, the craft had crashed at this very stage—the dragon wing structure had shuddered fatally during a propulsion mode shift, tearing the frame apart. The power spine lost balance, and the machine plummeted hundreds of meters. Maggie had narrowly escaped by transforming midair into her dragon form and gliding to a landing. The wreckage had crashed on the edge of the test field, smashing a magical monitoring tower.

And incidentally, it had crushed Tyr, who had been napping in the sun beneath the tower.

The scene had been shocking—especially since many technicians didn’t know the sea witch race could resurrect, causing quite a commotion.

“It’s flying…” Rebecca murmured, tilting her head back, her mind swirling with random thoughts.

“And it doesn’t look like it’s going to fall…” Tyr also looked up, his tail tip tapping the ground irregularly. “Last time really scared me. I was asleep and then—‘clang’!—a huge crash. Next thing I knew, I was soaking wet in the Whitewater River…”

Rebecca was speechless.

Maggie’s heart soared, but her hands were steadier than ever.

She gripped the control stick firmly—the shifting air currents, the craft’s attitude adjustments, the subtle tactile feedback from the dragon wings—all these incredible sensations transmitted through the metal and controls, finally reaching her hands, giving her a tangible sense of embracing the sky.

Though separated by a shell of steel and other materials, she felt an unprecedented fulfillment.

She watched the farmland far below blur past, tiny spires and houses like models retreating in her view. Any lingering doubts about Rebecca’s promises vanished.

Dragons were, after all, creatures born to yearn for the sky.

But in the Holy Dragon Principality, dragons were forbidden to fly—even those few “mildly deformed” dragons with relatively healthy wings were banned from approaching the sky.

Because genetic defects were a grave sin, one that exiles had to atone for across lifetimes. Deformed wings were unworthy of the sky—that was a desecration.

But how could a creature born with wings suppress the urge to fly?

Almost every year, restless young dragons defied the taboo. Even if their malformed wings couldn’t truly lift them, they would glide briefly, leaping from Dragon Leap Cliff in secret. Except for a lucky few, most were caught by the patrol knights of the Dragonblood Duke, or suffered serious injuries from inexperienced gliding, or…

They would muster all their strength to flap their wings, gliding from Dragon Leap Cliff all the way beyond the border, flying into the human world.

Maggie laughed joyfully, pulling the control stick hard, soaring toward the sky.

If she ever got the chance to return, she would definitely urge her friends to try this.

It was infinitely more fun than just gliding!

Now, she found herself eagerly anticipating the other “thing that embraces the sky” Rebecca had promised.

Steel wings… what would they be like?

…

Back in Cecil City, Gawain immediately summoned Veronica/Ophelia, who happened to be visiting the city’s arcane arms factory.

Sunlight streamed into the spacious study. Veronica entered calmly, holding her platinum scepter. The light shimmered on her pale golden hair, casting a faint halo that blurred the line between natural glow and the holy light that surrounded her.

Before Gawain, the ancient rebel bowed her head slightly. “Your Majesty, you summoned me?”

Gawain gave a short hum, but the first thing he noticed was the platinum scepter in her hand.

Before discussing business, he couldn’t help but recall something else he’d heard from Beltira:

The bridge between mortals and gods—the “chain” phenomenon born from shared faith in a common goal.

The platinum scepter, also known as the “bridge between mortals and gods.”

Gawain had known the name, but only after speaking with Beltira did he realize this “bridge” might hold another meaning.

“…That scepter really establishes a connection between mortals and gods?” he asked quietly.

Veronica lowered her eyelids slightly. “Yes, of course.”

“…Controlling this ‘chain’ must be difficult.”

Veronica looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. Meeting Gawain’s intense gaze, a faint smile appeared. “It seems your understanding of the gods has deepened.”

“In the eastern region of the Holy Spirit Plains, at the nest of the All-Things-Perish Cult, a clash between false godly power and mortal strength gave rise to a massive plant. Its true form is a high-ranking cleric of the cult—and an old acquaintance of mine, Beltira,” Gawain said evenly. “From her, I learned some truths about the rebels and the gods.”

“…Sometimes, the greatest insights come unexpectedly.”

“Indeed,” Gawain nodded. “Do the names Filna Whitesnow and Reina Whitesnow ring a bell?”

Veronica’s serene expression froze for a moment.

Then she spoke slowly, “Those are names I haven’t heard in a long time… Did you hear them from Beltira as well?”

“Since you know this, it seems the intel is accurate—over the past several centuries, the elves Filna Whiteshade and Relna Whiteshade have been key members of the End of All Things cult. If I’m not mistaken, they must be the ones we discussed before…”

“The ‘Phantoms’ of the Rebellion Project…” Veronica whispered. “That’s right, the Whiteshade twins are rebels. I know them, but I never expected that after all these years, they’d be hiding within the End of All Things, operating right under human society’s nose.”

“Tell me more about them,” Gawain nodded. “If my intel is correct, these elven sisters are likely still alive. They survived the fall of Gondor, escaped the destruction of the End of All Things cult, and they’re probably still active—potentially a serious threat.”

“…First, I need to clarify something,” Veronica gathered her thoughts and spoke gently. “Strictly speaking, the Whiteshade twins used to be two sisters. But now… they should be considered a single entity.”

(End of chapter)