Chapter 856: Befriending Dragons

As the sun rose, its pale golden rays tinged with a hint of crimson stretched across the dark mountain ridges, gradually waking the city that had slumbered through the night. The shifting boundary between shadow and light cast a brilliant tapestry of illumination over the plains and hills, until the line of dawn reached the tallest tower of the Imperial Academy. At that very moment, a deep, solemn bell tolled.

Magical mechanisms set the gears and levers inside the tower in motion. Bearings whirred, pulling steel chains taut, while counterweights swung rhythmically within the bell tower. The resonant chimes spread through the air, first stirring the Imperial Academy awake, then rippling outward to the surrounding streets and squares, to the homes and shops beyond.

Soon, bells from other clock towers across the city joined in, but quickly, a different sound—clearer, sharper—rang out through the alleys and avenues.

Children and young men, wearing felt hats and short jackets, set off from post offices and newspaper distribution points, riding the increasingly popular “two-wheeled carts” of Cecil. Their crisp bicycle bells rang out, serving as the city’s second alarm clock.

These were the city’s newsboys and postmen. In most of Cecil’s modern cities, the day’s rhythm began with the cheerful clinking of their bells.

Sir Gorosh dressed casually and walked alongside Asalina, who was also in plain clothes, through the streets of this foreign city. Bathed in the morning sunlight, they watched as the city stirred from its slumber. The architecture and people here were a stark contrast to those of Dragon’s Landing, yet the two dragonborn moved comfortably among them.

“There’s a book in my room that describes this city like this—Cecil wakes to the sounds of modern industry: the mechanical chimes of clock towers, the ringing bells of two-wheeled carts, the whistles of public magi-cars,” Sir Gorosh said casually. “But now I realize, you really have to see it with your own eyes to understand what that means.”

“As I remember, the human world wasn’t this bustling or… fast,” Asalina shook her head. “But honestly, this pace feels pretty good.”

A clear, slightly youthful voice interrupted their conversation from nearby. “Sir! Ma’am! Want a newspaper? The latest news, the most interesting stories! Only two Aels! Two for three Aels!”

Sir Gorosh turned to see a boy in a deep blue plaid jacket standing before him, his face bright with a cheerful smile, eyes wide and shining. His large satchel was stuffed full of newspapers.

Ah, another scene unique to Cecil.

The knight smiled and couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the biggest news today?”

“The Empire and the Holy Dragon Principality are about to establish diplomatic relations, sir!” the boy said excitedly, holding up a paper. “The meeting in the Grant Assembly Hall just concluded successfully. We’ve gained a new ally—maybe soon we’ll get exotic goods from the far north, or a whole new market! And there’s more! Here, take a copy, sir—you look like someone who cares about current affairs. Don’t miss out on the big stories!”

A flicker of surprise crossed Sir Gorosh’s eyes. He hesitated briefly, but Asalina had already pulled out two coins—the new currency of Cecil—and smiled as she handed them over. “One paper, handsome.”

“Thank you, ma’am~”

The newsboy ran off, and Asalina waved the freshly printed paper, still smelling faintly of ink, in front of Gorosh like a trophy. She smiled. “Now we’re part of the news, Sir.”

“…What word did you just use? Ah, ‘fast,’” Gorosh said with a wry smile, spreading his hands as he glanced over the paper. “This just happened yesterday… and now even the kids know about it.”

“The negotiations lasted nearly a week. With mutual tolerance and honesty, the two nations finally came together. The Empire will cooperate with its new ally in economic and cultural fields…” Asalina skimmed the front-page headline, reading a few lines aloud with a hint of nostalgia. “Twenty years ago, a human lord would have hired twenty spies and assassins to gather this kind of ‘intelligence,’ spending hundreds of silver coins bribing cooks and maids inside enemy castles…”

“There are still rulers who do similar things today, but what they’re after has definitely changed,” Gorosh said casually, then glanced at Asalina. “You seem pretty familiar with the ‘market’ back then.”

“I did similar work as a mercenary—working for nobles paid well and fast, but Byron didn’t like us dealing with aristocrats. He preferred hunting monsters and gathering rare materials for mages,” Asalina said, shaking her head. “But whatever the job, those were freer times. Dealing with monsters in the mountains was easier than dealing with those cunning Cecil diplomats.”

Sir Gorosh chuckled. “Anyway, it’s finally settled. We’ve opened the door. The dragonborn will enjoy the fruits of human industry, gain access to new knowledge and technology, and humans will gain a northern market—and more importantly, a powerful ally.”

…

Hetty entered the study, where a blue carpet covered the floor and bright sunlight poured through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. She saw the imposing figure of her ancestor standing by the window, the sunlight casting a radiant glow around his tall silhouette.

“Ancestor,” the Empire’s eldest princess bowed her head respectfully but warmly. “The commercial adjustment plan with the Holy Dragon Principality has been finalized.”

Gawain nodded slightly. “Good. Proceed according to the results of the last meeting. Assign it to Patrick for execution.”

Hetty stepped beside him, both gazing out the window. Against the increasingly bright sky, several dark shapes appeared in the southeast—two conical flying machines and the silhouette of a dragon, flying westward along the edge of the Dark Mountains.

“The flight technology team has a series of tests today—Rebecca is leading her team to collect more data on the Steel Wings, preparing for the mass production version.”

“We’ve finally brought the dragonborn on board…” Gawain murmured.

“Yes, it’s hard to imagine… we will have a dragon army,” Hetty said, still tinged with disbelief. “Honestly, even on the day the Steel Wings’ test flight succeeded, I didn’t dare believe it would really work…”

“Don’t put too much stock in it, Hetty,” Gawain turned his head. “Armed dragonborn may be powerful, but they’re not Cecil natives. No part of the Empire’s military can rely entirely on foreign mercenaries—especially ones that are expensive and few in number. Our own air force is the backbone of the Empire’s skies. The dragonborn are just a force multiplier.”

Hetty immediately lowered her head. “Yes, Ancestor. I will remember your teachings.”

“No need to be so serious,” Gawain shook his head at her usual earnestness. “If you stay so tense, you’ll never get married.”

“An… Ancestor?”

“Don’t be so nervous, just joking to lighten the mood,” Gawain laughed. “Ah… if only you could balance out Rebecca a bit. As a transcendent, you’re still young, but you act too mature. Rebecca has grown a lot over the years, but she’s always a bit reckless.”

Hetty wanted to say that the ancestor’s joke only made her more nervous, but afraid of steering the conversation back to “you’re getting old,” she quickly changed the subject. “You place great importance on relations with the Holy Dragon Principality… is it because of the dragons? Are you making some kind of ‘preparation’?”

“There is that reason,” Gawain said, seeing through Hetty’s careful change of topic but not calling her out. “The dragonborn claim to be exiled abominations. From their outward condition, it seems true, and most of them seem to believe it themselves. But I think… their connection to the dragons is more complicated than it appears.

“From Melita Pernia’s attitude toward the dragonborn, and from the strange state of the dragons themselves, I believe there’s more to this ‘exile’ than meets the eye.

“My guess is that the highest rulers of the dragonborn—the Dragonblood Archduke and the so-called ‘Dragonblood Council’—are aware of this secret, but for some reason, it remains hidden.

“At this stage, we lack the means to investigate, but at least maintaining good relations with the dragonborn can’t hurt—in the future, it might yield unexpected benefits.

“Of course, there are other reasons I must take the Holy Dragon Principality seriously.”

Hetty blinked, quickly catching on. “You mean… they rejected many of your initial proposals, then adjusted much of the commercial cooperation?”

Gawain nodded slightly.

“Things Rosetta Augustus couldn’t see, they could,” he said gravely. “This isn’t because the Emperor of Typhon is foolish—it’s because the dragonborn exceeded my expectations.

“The idea that they’re ‘closed off, isolated in deep mountains and glaciers’ is false.

“The dragonborn live long lives, and the closer their bloodline is to the original dragons, the longer they live. Such a long-lived race may develop slowly, but they are never ignorant or isolated—even if they only glance outside occasionally, the long years are enough to accumulate wisdom and experience.

“Human dynasties rise and fall like plays on a stage to such a race—one act ends, one dynasty passes. And if they hold secret trump cards against the magical tides, the ‘plays’ they’ve witnessed are far more numerous than we imagine.

“Our magi-technology and market plans may be novel to them, but many of our ideas are probably old hat in their eyes.

“Facing such a race, we can’t use the same approach we use with Typhon or the Ogure tribes…”

Listening to Gawain’s measured words, Hetty thought for a moment and nodded knowingly. “Because we can’t just keep taking advantage of them?”

Gawain: “…That’s not your style of speaking. Where did you hear that?”

Hetty quickly looked down. “Amber said she compiled a glossary of terms you created, useful for all sorts of new things…”

Gawain twitched at the corner of his eye. “Don’t learn from her. Sooner or later, I’ll find and burn all the little notebooks she hides.”

Clearing his throat to dispel the awkwardness, he continued, “In short, the dragonborn are a group worth paying attention to—though they call themselves a ‘principality,’ few in this world would underestimate such a state. They would be troublesome enemies, but if we can bring them onto our side, they’d be invaluable allies.

“Allies like that deserve our sincerity and investment.”

“Yes,” Hetty replied earnestly. “I will remember that well.”

Gawain nodded with satisfaction, then glanced at the mechanical clock on the wall and said thoughtfully, “According to the schedule, today we should inspect the computing center…”

“Yes, we still have half an hour before departure,” Hetty replied. “Yuri’s side is already ready.”

Gawain gave a brief nod. Turning his head, his gaze swept over a map spread out on a nearby desk. After a moment, he said casually, “Go make the arrangements. We’ll get ready to leave.”

Gawain and Hetty left the study.

On the large wooden desk lay a detailed map of the entire Cecil Empire, quietly spread out.

The map marked key locations across the southern, northern, eastern, and western regions, as well as the Holy Spirit Plains, each represented by distinctive tower-shaped icons. Smaller symbols clustered around these towering structures, connected by thin red lines that wove like spiderwebs between various nodes.

Southern Hub, Northern Hub… Imperial Capital Control Center… Solin Hub, Saint Suniel Hub…

At the bottom of the map, a line of handwritten letters shimmered faintly in the sunlight:

The Empire’s Magical Network Full-Scale Connection Plan.

(End of chapter)