We reached the gates of the Mage Cathedral in midmorning, sunlight hitting its white walls so brightly that the whole campus looked like it had been carved from polished bone. It was the complete opposite of the Tower where it looms, dark and overwhelming; this place shimmered and demanded reverence.

  I squinted against the glare, wishing I had one more hour in bed. Even with stamina that should have outlasted any mortal, I felt drained after the night we’d had. Allira shuffled beside me like one of the walking dead, hair tied back in the most half-hearted braid I’d ever seen. Marlena wasn’t much better, and even Seraphina had shadows under her eyes. The mighty Robertson clan, conquerors of banquet halls and ballrooms, was brought low by lack of sleep.

  Erica, of course, looked annoyingly fresh as she guided us across the large campus. She led us into the main administrative building, which, much to my amusement, reminded me of a bus terminal back on Earth. People queued, argued over paperwork, and hurried through side doors clutching satchels and scrolls. A few even seemed to be buying tickets. The only thing missing was a vending machine and the smell of burnt coffee.

  Erica led us to a quieter desk at the far end, where a young man sat in neat robes with a ledger open in front of him. “Excuse me,” Erica said politely. “Could you inform Arch Mage Veralt that Earl Robertson and his party are here?”

  The clerk blinked, glanced past her toward me, then nodded. He muttered something too quick to catch before hurrying off.

  “My lord, Robert will inform the Arch Mage of your arrival,” Erica reported dutifully.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Behind me, Marlena and Allira were comparing this place to Vaelthorn’s smaller administrative wing. Seraphina held onto my arm silently, her eyes exploring the grand architecture with quiet curiosity. I almost mentioned Grand Central Station, about how this place was nothing compared to the rivers of people flowing through Manhattan, but I kept it to myself. They’d think I was exaggerating.

  Robert returned sooner than expected, bowing quickly and awkwardly. “My lord, the Arch Mage is currently busy. He asks if you would be willing to wait in the reception lounge.”

  “Yes, of course. Lead the way.”

  We followed him down a vast hall. Allira muttered loud enough for the poor man to hear, “No killing this time, David.”

  Erica gave her a confused look. “What?”

  “Hey, no fair,” I protested. “He was a criminal.”

  Robert glanced back at me, the smile on his face barely masking his second thoughts about guiding us anywhere. When he finally opened a tall oak door, the tension eased. The reception lounge was much more comfortable than I had expected: it had polished floors, a long conference table, and refreshments already set out. It was a place designed to impress and keep troublesome guests contained.

  We hadn’t waited long when the doors opened and Archmage Veralt entered, trailed by a group of mages. He crossed the room with practiced authority, taking the seat nearest me.

  “Wonderful, you arrived, Earl,” he said warmly, motioning to one of his attendants. The young mage hurried forward and spread a bundle of rolled parchment across the table.

  “These are the maps I promised you, David.” Veralt unrolled one, revealing a detailed chart of the kingdom’s mountain ranges, cities, roads, etched in neat lines. “Here is Eldros,” he tapped, “and here is the capital.”

  I leaned in, eyes following the inked markings. “Where do they believe the vaults lie?”

  The attendant pointed to a region north of the city. “Here, my lord. South of the great lake, beyond Certrick Pass.”

  The sketch depicted barren ridges pressed tightly against open water, with only a single fishing village visible. “Interesting, not the north side of the lake?” I murmured.

  “The north side is almost impossible to reach. Possible. So when do you plan to travel?” Veralt asked.

  “Within the week,” I said. “I want to reach it before winter closes any routes.”

  The attendant, Samual, I later learned, looked incredulous. “My lord, by caravan it’s two or three weeks. Winter would already be settled by then.”

  Veralt chuckled. “Samual, David has an airship. He could be there in less than a day.”

  The young mage’s eyes widened at that.

  Marlena spoke before I could. “Archmage, does that mean you’ll be traveling with us?”

  “Mm. It will be cold…” Veralt hedged.

  “Staterooms,” Seraphina added with a smile.

  “Yes,” I said, “plenty of space.”

  Veralt’s grin widened. “Samual, it looks like you and I are going north.”

  We rolled up the charts. With a flick of my wrist, I stored them away, gone from the table in an instant. Veralt blinked, clearly unsettled, and Samual’s eyes nearly bulged. I only smiled. Some mysteries were best left intact.

  “Now,” I said, changing the subject, “What does this airship of yours look like?”

  We followed Veralt outside across the grounds until the buildings gave way to a wide clearing. In the center sat the vessel. To my eyes, it looked like a box left to rust, with a patched hull and crude repairs, showing no artistry at all. A complete disappointment.

  “What do you think, David?” Veralt said, almost giddy. “A beauty, is she not?”

  “Beauty?” I echoed carefully. “You’re a braver man than I am. You actually traveled to Vaelthorn in that?”

  Samuel snapped defensively, “That’s peak design!”

  Veralt and I laughed. My wives trailed behind, studying the thing with dismay.

  “Allyson?” I asked.

  She stepped closer, her eyes tracing the lines. “It resembles a heavily modified cargo airship. Three hundred years old, at least.”

  “So one of ours?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I whistled low. “Archmage, how many are still flying?”

  “Only three,” Samual admitted.

  "Three flying, but you have others?" I asked.

  "Yes, we have six others that can't fly anymore. Pretty much scrap." Samual added.

  Allyson and I moved toward the bow of the airship, where I looked more closely at the hull. As I ran my hand over the ship’s surface, I could feel the dents and scrapes accumulated over the years.

  "This can be fixed," I muttered to myself. “Hmm. Can we go aboard?” I asked.

  Veralt patted my shoulder with a faint smile and led the way from the bow to the side where the entrance door was located. I followed, eyeing the vessel as we walked along the side. The patched seams along the hull were rough, almost laughable. I’d swear a roll of duct tape from my old world would’ve done a better job than whatever half-baked repairs held these plates together.

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  We entered the main hatchway and shuffled into the seating area. Veralt gestured grandly. “This is the ‘A’ class section. Beyond that is ‘B’ class seating.”

  I stopped and took it in. Cramped benches, the stale smell of sweat, oil, and, well, other things better left unnamed, clung to the air like a permanent curse.

  “Archmage,” I said, raising a brow, “you traveled all the way from here to Vaelthorn in this? How long were you crammed in this sardine tin?”

  He chuckled. “We had two short layovers, but yes, ten days’ travel. Your vessel, the… Enterprise, you called it? That one took only three days. Quite the improvement. High class, indeed.”

  “Enterprise?” Samuel repeated, his tone betraying disbelief.

  “Yes,” Veralt said easily, glancing back at him. “That is the name of his airship. Well, one of them.” He winked at me.

  I didn’t miss the way Samuel’s composure slipped a notch.

  We continued down the narrow corridor, finally arriving at what they called the bridge. Suppose you call it that. The place looked like a scavenger’s nest, controls half-broken, levers jury-rigged, trash literally piled into the corners. I had to bite my tongue. Back on Earth, OSHA inspectors would’ve fainted just stepping through the hatch.

  “This is a mess,” Seraphina gasped, wrinkling her nose.

  “How can anyone fly this thing?” Allira added, her hand brushing across a lever crusted with grime. She pulled it back as if it had bitten her.

  I just stood there, staring at the wreck of a bridge. My engineer’s brain was screaming a dozen red flags at once: controls patched with what looks like wire, gauges frozen or cracked, panels literally tied down with cord. I didn’t want to sit in this thing on the ground, let alone trust it in the sky. How many of these vessels were scavenged to keep these few going?

  “Archmage,” I asked, forcing my voice to stay level, “who owns these airships?”

  Veralt’s expression darkened as he looked around at the trash heaps tucked into every corner. “The cathedral itself. They commission, operate, and maintain them.” He gave a tired shake of his head, as if the words tasted bitter even to him.

  That explained a lot.

  We all filed out, grateful for the fresh air. I took a slow walk around the hull with Allyson at my side. Up close, the wear was even more apparent: plating riveted over old cracks, the faint warp of stress lines running along the keel, seams sealed with what looked like pitch. The others stayed clustered by the hatch, watching us with wary expressions, probably wondering why I was bothering to admire this hulk.

  “Allyson, what do you think of this ship?” I asked quietly.

  Her eyes swept along the frame, clinical and precise. “The main structure is sound, Master,” she said. “The frame still holds its shape. The hull plating can be replaced, and the flight surfaces repaired. The concern would be the core.”

  “Hmm.” I folded my arms, studying the vessel as if it were a wounded beast. “If the core’s intact, what then? Could it be rebuilt?”

  “Yes, Master,” she said without hesitation. “If the core is in usable shape, the vessel can be restored. Two to three weeks at the Sixth Tower would be sufficient to strip it down and refit. Provided the cathedral grants release, of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Let’s look at the core, and I’ll explain,” I said, circling the hull. “Where would it be on this ship?”

  Allyson pointed to a broad panel along the lower side of what would be the starboard side. “There, Master.”

  “Veralt,” I called, “is it possible to take a look at the core?”

  The Archmage hesitated, then murmured something to the young mage at his side. Samual bounded over with an eager nod, crouched at the panel, and worked the clasps until the heavy plate dropped open.

  Inside was a nightmare of rags stuffed into cracks, blocks of wood wedged to brace beams, pipes lashed together with cord. But behind the chaos sat a sphere, dull and lifeless, half-swallowed by soot.

  “Allyson, what am I looking at?”

  She leaned in, her gaze sharp. “That, Master, is the core. It appears functional, though highly degraded, remarkably so, considering the condition of the rest of this vessel. It has months, if not weeks, left in it.”

  Something stirred in me. A pull, subtle at first, then undeniable. Without thinking, I reached in.

  “Don’t touch that!” Samuel yelled, lunging to grab my wrist. But I couldn’t be stopped. My fingers brushed the surface of the core… heat, but no pain. A hum, like something waking from a long sleep. I felt a drain on me for a moment.

  For an instant, I thought it was only my imagination. There was a faint voice, then the sphere shuddered under my hand. The dull black faded, bleeding into deep amber, then brightened into a warm golden glow that filled the cavity with light.

  [DING]

  Engineering Core Rejuvenated 20%

  [600 Arcane Integration XP Gained]

  [Level Up - Arcane Integration – Level 2]

  85 XP Until Next Level

  [DING]

  [Level Up - Arcane Integration – Level 3]

  175 XP Until Next Level

  [DING]

  [Level Up - Arcane Integration – Level 4]

  275 XP Until Next Level

  [DING]

  [Level Up - Arcane Integration – Level 5]

  288 XP Until Next Level

  Samual stumbled back, his eyes wide. “Impossible. I’ve seen men die for touching it barehanded. It should have… it should have burned you through.” His voice cracked. “And yet…”

  Allyson’s tone was calm, though I saw her pupils dilate. “Master, it seems you rejuvenated the core. By touch alone.”

  I pulled my hand back, flexing my fingers. “Are you sure? Maybe I just wiped some dirt off it.”

  Samual looked as if I had spat in his face. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Behind him, Veralt and the other mages whispered furiously, glancing between me and the glowing sphere.

  I gave the young mage a friendly nod. “Thank you for opening it up.” Then I straightened, dusted off my hands, and walked back toward my wives as if nothing extraordinary had just happened.

  “I have a business idea,” I began, hands clasped behind my back as we strolled along the battered hull. “It’ll cost a bit to start up, but the return could be enormous.”

  Allira gave me a sidelong look. “You want another airship, don’t you?”

  “Well… sort of.” I grinned. “If Veralt goes with it, it could revolutionize travel. But first, I need to know, can I count on you all?”

  I looked to them in turn. Seraphina raised one brow, already running calculations in her head; Marlena’s lips curled in that sly, intrigued way of hers; Allira just sighed but didn’t object; she gave a hesitant nod, curiosity outweighing caution. None of them looked doubtful.

  “Let’s see if I can land the deal first.” I squared my shoulders and walked toward Veralt. My wives followed, their footsteps soft but sure behind me.

  “Veralt,” I said, stopping before the Archmage, “I have a business proposal, if I could entertain you.”

  “A business proposal?” His eyes flicked from me to the airship hulking behind.

  “Yes. I want to purchase all the airships owned by the cathedral.”

  The air around us froze. Even the wind seemed to pause. Gasps rippled through the mages. Everyone stared except Allyson, who only inclined her head as though she’d expected this all along.

  “That would shut down most of the travel between nations,” Samual cut in sharply. His voice cracked under the weight of the thought.

  “Well, sort of,” I admitted. “I aim to rebuild them, restore them to what they were meant to be. Then put them back into service. Not to end travel, but to make it safe, reliable, and… comfortable again. And once they’re flying, we’d be partners.”

  “Partners?” Veralt repeated, tasting the word like it was wine he couldn’t decide to spit or swallow.

  “Yes. I’d crew and maintain the airships. The cathedral would oversee ticketing, schedules, and landing facilities. Revenues split fifty-fifty.”

  “And what would you do to them?” His gaze slid back to the wreck behind me, suspicion etched deep in his lined face.

  “First, remove what shouldn’t be there.” I spread my hands, inviting everyone to imagine it with me. “Scrub every inch, eliminate the dirt, and make everything safe again. Then restore the seating and quarters to their original purpose, luxury, not coffins with wings. We need to check the ones that aren’t flying right now to see what can be done with them. What I want to create are ships people will want to travel on, not just tolerate. If the other two still in service are like this one, you’ll have only a few months, maybe a year, before all of them are grounded forever.”

  Veralt’s eyes narrowed. “And how much would you offer?”

  “One hundred thousand gold each for the ones that still work, and you throw in the others as is.”

  The silence was heavy. Shock registered on every face except Allyson’s.

  “Have the proposal drafted,” Veralt said at last. “We’ll put it to the council.” We shook hands, Veralt’s grip firm, the deal hovering between us like the start of something far larger. Marlena slipped her hand into mine as we turned toward the administrative buildings.

  That was when a dark-cloaked figure stepped into our path. His cloak flared behind him, and his eyes glowed with the heat of his anger. He jabbed a finger at me, spittle flying as he bellowed, “Earl Robertson, I challenge you to a duel! Here, now before all!” It was Halden Sinthurk. I haven’t seen him since he traveled here from Vaelthorn.

  Marlena stiffened beside me, but I only raised a brow, calm as ever. “A duel? Again? I thought you’d had enough embarrassment the last time.”

  Halden’s face flushed scarlet. “My honor was not satisfied! You should be ash on the wind for daring to take what was mine!” His hands trembled, not with fear but with fury, as if fire itself wanted to crawl from his veins. He stared at Marlena. I can see that he thought that she was his.

  I folded my arms, tilted my head. “What was yours? A grudge? A failed plan? You’ll have to be more specific.” A ripple of laughter passed through the onlookers. Halden’s jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.

  “I will end you,” he snarled, voice raw. “By the flames of my bloodline, I swear it! The same terms as before. Everything. My family honors. Your life and your fortune. No escape this time.”

  I let the silence stretch, then smiled faintly. “So dramatic. Way over the top. All right, Halden. One hour.” I glanced toward the bleachers where a practice arena loomed. “We’ll settle it there.”

  He blinked, taken aback by how easily I agreed. “You mock me? You don’t understand the power I wield!”

  “Oh, I understand plenty,” I said, my tone light, conversational. “You’ll bring fire. I’ll bring a sword. It’ll be fun.”

  Marlena hissed at me under her breath, “David, he’s a high mage with fire attributes, don’t do this.”

  I squeezed her hand gently, eyes never leaving Halden’s. “Relax, love. It’ll be fine.”

  Halden, sputtering with rage, spun on his heel and stormed toward the arena, every step radiating hatred. The crowd parted for him, whispering in awe and dread.

  I only chuckled, turning back to my wives. “Well, I suppose we have an hour to kill. Anyone hungry?”