Chapter 841: The Dragonborn

In the third week of the Month of Awakening, the Dragonborn from the northern realms set foot in Cecil City.

Since the Second Expansion—when humanity established nations across the four borders of the continent—this was the first time the Dragonborn officially and openly visited a human kingdom.

The imperial banners, blue with golden patterns, fluttered proudly atop the spires of towers. Colorful ribbons danced through the streets and alleys, while the sound of horns echoed from the northern shore. Large magical projections scattered throughout the city broadcasted live scenes of the Dragonborn’s arrival. Excited children darted along the roadside, scrambling for fallen ribbons and petals, while citizens gathered along designated viewing streets, their eyes filled with curiosity as the envoys rode in open-top magi-cars along Pioneer Avenue toward the palace.

Elite Iron Rangers clad in black light armor rode warhorses flanking the procession, ceremonial lances raised high to keep the enthusiastic crowds at bay and maintain order.

Sir Gorosh sat alongside Asalina in the second magi-car, gazing at this vibrant, lively human city brimming with incredible “magical technology.” A trace of surprise crept onto his face. “This place is far more prosperous than I imagined.”

Asalina waved at a child cheering by the roadside, then quietly murmured, “…It’s even beyond what I expected. You wouldn’t believe what this city was like twenty years ago when I left… Back then, there wasn’t even a single human settlement at the foot of the Dark Mountains.”

Sir Gorosh frowned slightly, his tone oddly hesitant. “I’m beginning to worry—will your experiences from traveling the human world back then still be of any use in this newly born human empire?”

Asalina tilted her head and glanced at him. “Sir, please don’t doubt my abilities as an advisor. Although human society changes rapidly, many customs and formalities don’t shift so drastically in just twenty years. And while this city has many new wonders, it’s not so far beyond my…”

Her words were abruptly cut off by a piercing, humming shriek from high above. Both she and Sir Gorosh looked up in surprise. Against the clear, cloudless sky near noon, over a dozen strange, steel, winged cone-shaped machines flew in a precise triangular formation from west to east.

Beneath each humming craft floated softly glowing rings, with peculiar structures extending from their sides that resembled dragon wings. These were clearly man-made devices, their flight stable and coordinated to a breathtaking degree. As the marvelous “flight formation” approached directly above the envoy delegation, several of the machines suddenly activated suspended magi-devices below, weaving streams of light high in the sky. Before Sir Gorosh and Asalina’s eyes appeared a massive magical projection—

In both the common human tongue and Dragonborn script, welcoming messages floated above the city, grander than any illusion or fireworks a single mage could conjure.

The projection was likely created by devices similar to the “magic network broadcast units” seen on the streets, but mounted on flying machines, producing an especially stunning effect.

After a long moment, Sir Gorosh lowered his gaze and looked at Asalina. “Lady Asalina, is this beyond what you imagined?”

“I… truly never expected this.”

“Humans have actually built flying machines like these… and they look mass-producible,” Sir Gorosh couldn’t help but glance upward again. “Is this also ‘magical technology’?”

“It seems our gains here will far exceed expectations,” Asalina whispered. “And did you notice, Sir Gorosh? The ‘wings’ extending from the sides of those machines… they’re remarkably close in shape to dragon wings.”

“I noticed.” Sir Gorosh nodded. For some reason, a sudden thought of his daughter—who had long since left home—flashed through his mind.

Maggie… she should be somewhere in this city. He wondered how she would react to his arrival.

His expression grew complicated as he pondered.

…

“Unit One has completed the projection task. Shutting down in twenty seconds, preparing to return to patrol. Other units maintain formation.”

“Unit Two acknowledged.” “Unit Three acknowledged.” “Unit Four…”

Responses crackled through the comms. Sitting in the co-pilot seat of the lead craft, Maggie exhaled softly but couldn’t help glancing down through the angled observation window at the envoy convoy steadily moving along the street below.

Beside her, Jin’na—the first phase Dragonrider trainee and air force commander—sat in the pilot’s seat. This young woman, born into a Gryphon Knight family, took a deep breath to calm her slight nerves. The excitement of undertaking such a special mission for the first time flushed her cheeks. After confirming the mission was mostly complete and without mishap, she turned to Maggie. “Miss Maggie, thank you for your hard work this time… Miss Maggie? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Huh? No, nothing,” Maggie snapped back to herself and waved her hand. “Just thinking about some things.”

“That’s rare,” Jin’na shook her head. “You actually daydreaming during a mission.”

Maggie forced a faint smile, her eyes flickering again toward the observation window below. Her expression darkened.

Only that morning, during flight preparations, she had learned that her father was part of this envoy team. But in truth, this information should have reached the Emperor’s desk many days ago. The fact it was kept from her until now made Maggie suspect the Emperor was playing some kind of cruel joke.

But she quickly shook her head hard, banishing the thought. Emperor Gawain Cecil was a dignified and wise man, bearing the weight of the entire empire. He wouldn’t indulge in such cruel humor. The secrecy was either for confidentiality or because the Emperor was too busy to bother with such details.

The runaway Dragonborn young lady soon convinced herself and braced for whatever might come next.

…

The venue for receiving the envoys was still the Autumn Palace’s banquet hall.

After a sightseeing procession from Pioneer Avenue to the Autumn Palace, Sir Gorosh finally met the ruler of this newborn human empire in a brightly lit, grand hall—Gawain and Hetty, along with several high-ranking officials, stood on the steps inside the banquet hall. They watched as the Dragonborn envoys, dressed in exotic attire, approached. When the attendant loudly announced the envoy’s name, the serious-looking middle-aged man stepped forward, accompanied by a red-haired woman, and presented a handwritten letter from Duke Balogur.

“Greetings to you, Emperor of Cecil, greetings to you, Knight of Knights, Pioneer of Pioneers… the founder of both the old Ansu and the new Cecil,” Sir Gorosh said solemnly, showing no excessive curiosity or prying. His tone was formal and respectful, delivering a long list of titles and standard diplomatic phrases. “I bring the greetings of His Grace, the Dragonblood Duke Balogur, ruler of the far northern mountains, guardian of the Dragonborn realm, lord of stone and snow… and the friendly intentions of the Holy Dragon Principality.”

“Welcome to Cecil,” Gawain replied simply and directly. “Cecil and the Holy Dragon Principality have always been close neighbors. We will always welcome visitors from the far northern mountains.”

Inwardly, he was somewhat surprised—he hadn’t heard such a formal, honorific-laden opening in a long time. This Dragonborn envoy came from a world long isolated from humanity, yet his choice of words was unexpectedly steeped in ancient human tradition.

It seemed that in the distant north, many Dragonborn still held onto impressions of humans from the old Ansu era.

—To avoid cultural and ceremonial clashes, and to ensure protocol was observed, the envoys had already familiarized themselves with Cecil’s etiquette at Winterhold in the northern territories before arriving. With Duchess Victoria’s help, they had rehearsed the audience procedures. Though the ceremony was practiced, the envoy’s speech was drafted by the Holy Dragon Principality (Victoria only confirmed it contained no taboo content).

Now, some of the archaic phrases even made Gawain feel a bit amused and bemused.

Of course, he maintained a calm and composed exterior, revealing nothing.

After presenting the letter, completing the formal audience, and exchanging introductions, Gawain spared the long-distance guests any further tedious formalities and moved directly to the main event of Cecil hospitality—the announcement of the banquet.

As dazzling dishes were laid before the guests and cheerful melodies filled the hall, attendants began guiding everyone to their seats. Sir Gorosh leaned toward Asalina and whispered, “Though I was briefed beforehand, the ‘Cecil Empire’s’ etiquette seems much simpler than I imagined… It’s nothing like the rigid, elaborate protocols described in the records about human kingdoms.”

Asalina tilted her head slightly and looked at him. “So, do you prefer simple procedures or complicated rules?”

Sir Gorosh smiled faintly. “Personally, I much prefer this—straightforward communication suits me better.”

Asalina smiled but said no more.

In her experience, humans loved to use complex, cumbersome rituals and rules to display their “orthodoxy” and “heritage.” This was very different from the Dragonborn. While Dragonborn also valued tradition and adhered to rules, it was more out of respect and obedience to ancient teachings. To them, human insistence on elaborate etiquette seemed like unnecessary “external decoration”—less about practical meaning and more like adorning themselves with feathers for the sake of ceremony.

This perception had long caused the Dragonborn to hold prejudices against the human world: to them, a short-lived species obsessing over “orthodoxy” and “heritage” seemed incongruous and out of place.

Asalina never imagined that in just twenty years, humans would have already changed so much in this regard.

In her mind’s eye, a young, dashing mercenary captain appeared—carefree and a bit roguish. Then that image shifted into a general, his beard unkempt, adorned with medals and ribbons.

Only twenty years had passed.

Humans… truly are fascinating creatures.

The banquet began.

Once the free mingling and socializing phase started, guests began moving about, helping themselves to food and engaging in conversation. Naturally, Sir Gorosh made his way first to Emperor Cecil, while Asalina wandered the hall with a hint of curiosity.

As a “consultant,” her role was to analyze information later, so for now, she was free to relax.

As she sampled various human delicacies—some familiar, some not—and chatted casually with passersby, a small figure suddenly darted past nearby.

It was a girl in a pale yellow dress, clearly not yet grown, carrying a large plate piled high with food. Her face was lit up with a joyful smile as she hurried from one laden table to another.

Asalina instinctively frowned—A child?

She was curious why a child would be here, but quickly realized this must be a member of the royal family or a high-ranking imperial household. The girl’s carefree, bustling energy stood out sharply against the more formal atmosphere of the hall, and despite herself, Asalina smiled.

Then, just as she watched, the girl suddenly slipped—losing her footing in mid-run, about to fall awkwardly.

Without a sound, Asalina subtly raised a finger, and an invisible force gently lifted the girl, steadying her before she could hit the ground.

It was a casual, effortless gesture—likely unnoticed by anyone else. Asalina shook her head with a smile, about to turn away, but to her surprise, the girl in the pale yellow dress immediately looked up and walked over.

This child’s sensitivity to magic was remarkable!

Asalina barely had time to marvel before the girl stood before her, politely bowing. She didn’t open her mouth, yet from somewhere just behind her neck came a faintly mechanical voice: “Thank you, ma’am~”

“No need… to thank me,” Asalina said, surprised. She was certain the girl hadn’t spoken aloud. “You… you’re the one speaking?”

“Yes! But I’m using ‘it’ to talk~!” The girl said happily, turning to reveal a strange metallic device on the back of her neck. It looked like a flattened, silver-white spine, neatly fitted to her nape. “This is called a Neural Thorn. By the way, ma’am, are you a Dragonborn? I heard today’s guests are from the Holy Dragon Principality. I know a sister named Maggie—she’s Dragonborn too… Oh! I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Pea…”

Asalina: “…?!”

(End of chapter)