Crusch's Monologue
The fervor of the decision ignited within me when I was bestowed with the divine insignia of the dragon.
A profound transformation seized my life, a metamorphosis of my essence, fiercely forging the determination that would guide me. I am not akin to ordinary women; the fragrance of romance never appealed to me.
I steadfastly remained rooted in my authenticity, forging my own path.
"The Lion King," a figure that has left an incandescent imprint in the depths of my heart, an embodied ideal, a voice that roars in the profound recesses of my being. His Highness, chosen to occupy that throne, an unyielding destiny.
Yes, only he wore the crown of my attention. Raised and molded for a singular purpose: to restore the covenant with the dragon.
This is how those around him perceived him.
The fire of determination burns in my hands, emotions roar like an internal whirlwind.
Memories flow, and with them, the shared conversations with him, alongside Felix. Words that have been torches on my path, illuminating my true self. They were the sparks that ignited my resolution, so when I lost him, my heart threatened to break.
But I did not surrender to the abyss of suffering.
I remain true to myself, a flame that consumes all distractions. Objectives, goals, purposes are like guiding stars materializing on my horizon, and I shall not allow the shadows of others to obscure my path.
Even when contradicting the expectations set by him, I will advance tirelessly.
The longing to be a queen, no, the certainty of being one envelops me like an unbridled fire.
Nothing and no one shall wrest this destiny from me; I will continue advancing, scorching obstacles until that crown adorns my brow. Marco's discourse reaches me like a gust of wind, kindling the fire of my memories with Fourier.
His image, his essence, intertwines with every thought, an incendiary reminder of my duty.
The dragon, a thief of power, a jailer who has stifled the growth of our nation. My purpose, my inner flame, demands that I ascend to the throne without hesitation.
The competition, fierce and vibrant like a storm, has revealed two formidable adversaries:
Emilia and Marco.
They have exceeded all expectations and earned my respect. An alliance could be the ideal path, but bureaucratic corridors twist into a tangle of deceit and secrets.
A web of intrigues that I have begun to unravel gradually.
The attack on Emilia's faction, meticulously planned, a sinister secret hidden from everyone's view, even mine. It will not suffice to remain true to myself; it is time to change the game, to rule with a firm hand, to transform this uncertain landscape.
I shall be a queen.
My footsteps will resonate with authority, my decisions will be like a hammer forging an indomitable destiny. The fire of my determination will consume doubt and pave the way for a future that will be inscribed with fiery letters in the book of history.
Prologue
A night full of determination.
The gazes of all converge upon me, laden with an intense emotion pulsating in the air. The shouts, a deafening chorus of courage and determination, reverberate far and wide, shaking its foundations.
Swords, axes, maces, and a diverse arsenal of weapons rise toward the ceiling, dotting it like stars of forged steel. In that gesture, their souls merge their wills, gaining a strength that spills into every corner.
I descend from the platform, and the tables begin to fill with the festivity and anticipation of the future. The meticulous planning from yesterday consumed my entire night, a calculated choreography even to relocate the prodigious magical cannons, the emblem of Crusch's genius.
Every aspect has been meticulously arranged; every detail painstakingly plotted. The list of carriages and their passengers aligns like a map of possibilities, anticipating every eventuality.
Efficiency becomes an imperative, each gear turning with precision.
A glance at Crusch, and her satisfied smile intersects with mine—a silent approval, a tacit understanding. I descend from the platform alongside Beatrice, marking the beginning of the banquet, a brief respite before the confrontation.
It will be a short-lived dream, a prelude to dawn when we will rise, minds as sharp as tempered steel, ready for the assault.
In anticipation, I have secured a supply agreement with Irlam; we will provide provisions, a safeguard against prolonged waiting, and a refuge against the cult's potential attack.
Although the option of resurrection lies before me, it is an absurd choice, a temptation I must not yield to. Every time I die, the miasma thickens within me, a sinister residue that accumulates and corrupts me.
The magic flowing in my veins does not respond to my control, causing my strategies to shift.
Hence, I must avoid death whenever possible.
Perhaps I should alter my perspective, cease regarding death as a piece in a game, a card in the deck. But deep within, I know it's a change that won't come—a relentless shadow in my mind.
It is fate, the source of my despair.
Emilia and Crusch approach with pleased smiles on their faces. In the blink of an eye, I find myself surrounded by a squadron of knights, Beatrice by my side, unmoved by the surprise.
The gazes of all converge on me, laden with emotion, gratitude flowing like a torrent in their eyes.
One of them, an elderly man with short hair and a face carved by time, donning sturdy armor and a long sword at his side, places his wrinkled hand on my shoulder.
His voice, deep and filled with history, breaks the silence:
"I heard whispers about your confrontation. Though I didn't have the chance to witness it, your magical prowess is worthy of admiration."
His gaze, in an instant, shifts, adopting a more austere nuance, eyebrows furrowing in a hint of melancholy.
With a soft voice, he adds:
"Thank you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to avenge my wife."
The spark of gratitude spreads like a wildfire, each knight adding their personal echo. Their hands find their hearts, a sincere offering overflowing with appreciation.
Beyond my past, what they truly value is the door I have opened for them.
Knights in the most authentic sense of the word. A warm smile unfolds on my lips, a shared connection, a mutual understanding. My hand rests on the old man's, my eyes locking onto his.
"You are here to pursue your desires, and it is a privilege for me to witness the existence of such remarkable individuals. Be proud to be here, heading towards your goals." I raise my hand with determination. "Return alive; I hope to raise a toast to each of you."
The men watch with surprise; there is no trace of condescension towards their losses in my expression and words.
Showing distress would only undermine morale.
Swapping melancholy for a sprout of hope is essential. Their smiles emerge, accompanied by small tears dancing in their eyes, understanding the words I share.
Beatrice also curves her lips into a smile, a gesture that somehow connects us. Beyond individual objectives, the essence lies in everyone feeling a sense of camaraderie.
In that unity resides the requisite trust to execute any strategy with certainty.
To be a leader entails precisely that: the management of everyone's emotions, the addressing of concerns, and the orchestration of skills to extract maximum efficiency.
Voices scatter, and conversations fill the space as I make my way towards Crusch and Emilia. Both welcome me with pleased expressions, and I advance with assurance in each step.
"Who would have thought they would approach willingly?" I murmur, a smile playing on my lips as I notice Wilhelm's figure behind Crusch.
"They are men who have suffered the loss of their loved ones under the cruel oppression of the whale. Each seeks vengeance," explains Wilhelm, his voice resonating with a hint of disillusionment, coupled with internal fury.
Wilhelm still seems reluctant to fully trust me, carefully guarding his past. Perhaps he is awaiting the opportune moment to share it.
I acknowledge that everything has its time and place, and there is nothing but to accept that reality.
"Undoubtedly, it represents an opportunity for them. The plan must proceed; I only hope that..."
There is an unease gnawing at me, a detail that seems to elude my control.
Emilia and Crusch instantly grasp my concern, a matter we have delved into deeply.
"The Witch's Cult," they both add, their voices tinged with apprehension. It is undoubtedly the most ominous threat, even overshadowing the whale itself.
Gluttony and Pride may emerge, leading us to maintain a route known to all, a facade we will divert upon conclusion.
We will wait a few days in Irlam before setting forth again.
However, the dilemma persists: the uncertainty surrounding the potential attack. Petelgeuse already attacked in the past based on information about Emilia's camp. And I know that information was transmitted to him.
Nevertheless, the novel reveals something crucial.
The emergence of gluttony and avarice follows the defeat of the whale. Besides, it is unconvincing to claim that they are merely following Emilia. Something more lurks behind their appearance.
The information gathered by Petelgeuse, the purpose of gluttony, the manifestation of avarice.
There is an underlying purpose...
"Let's hope we don't have to confront them, but if they were to manifest, we must be prepared to face them," I declare solemnly, my eyes alternating between Emilia and Crusch.
A collective nod seals our mutual understanding. As the event concludes, most of those present retire to their tents to rest.
The logistics are already in motion as those who will not partake in the battle conclude their preparations. In a bid to minimize casualties, I proposed the establishment of a rescue group.
Individuals who will traverse the battlefield astride dragons, extracting the wounded amidst the fray.
The meticulous distribution of roles is essential to ensure that the plans unfold with precision.
Before resting, I make my way to Crusch's office.
Though she urged us to repose, I am certain she will not sleep tonight, not when tomorrow holds such crucial importance. A faint light filters from beneath the door, confirming my suspicions.
I approach cautiously, seeking to detect any relevant sounds that may escape. However, total silence reigns.
I smack twice on the door, and after a brief moment, Crusch invites me in with a gesture. Our eyes meet, and her serene smile welcomes me into her office, which exudes a relaxing aura.
"Does unease keep you from resting?" she inquires, her voice carrying a touch of complicity.
"I need to conclude the agreements with Irlam. The artillery team is ready to act as soon as necessary."
Drawing my seat, I establish contact with Rem and Alsten. Their greetings fill me with familiarity as they bring me up to speed, with Crusch attentively observing from her seat, while I settle on the sofa.
"We have gained the approval from the blacksmiths. We will have four cannons, and one of them will be assembled at dawn,"
Rem details with a slight smile.
"In total, we will have five operational cannons, in addition to our special version that is already prepared. We have recycled projectiles from the battle against the cult to augment our arsenal."
The advantage of repurposing larger projectiles becomes apparent, as they scarcely necessitate maintenance or fortification. With five cannons in play, our prospects are promising.
"Miss Emilia will oversee the protection of the camp. With her in that position, its security is assured," I concede, garnering sincere nods from my comrades.
Over these two days, we have toiled diligently to maximize bullet production. The implementation of steam-powered machinery has heightened efficiency as we foresaw.
"We have expedited the resource transfer process, and everything is proceeding as planned."
My concerns are assuaged, as the initial stage of the bullet factory is on the verge of completion. As gunpowder flows abundantly, Baltazar and I have devised a process for bullet manufacturing.
The plates are swiftly molded, and Baltazar adeptly adjusts the molds. Although our initial quantities are not ample, they are working tirelessly, prioritizing production in small batches.
"Ensure to reward their efforts fairly. Once everything is in order, we will grant them a well-deserved respite," I emphasize with determination, gazing at Crusch with seriousness.
Each individual deserves acknowledgment commensurate with their dedication and relevance.
If they have toiled without respite, they merit an exceptional reward, far beyond the ordinary, as their effort surpasses what is stipulated in their contracts.
While they are aware that their work benefits Irlam, the responsibility to lead with excellence and reward their achievements rests on my shoulders.
"Very well, then. I will contact them tomorrow morning," I say with a smile as Rem and Alsten nod in agreement and bid farewell.
As I begin to close the metía, I notice Otto in the background before shutting it completely.
The gestures of Rem and Alsten are sincere, and I appreciate their departure before turning my attention to Crusch.
She seems pleased with our interaction, and her words reveal her admiration for the versatility of the metía.
"It's true, a device like this could revolutionize communication significantly," Crusch responds, expressing regret at not having the opportunity to duplicate such a device.
Undoubtedly, it would mark the end of letters and short messages, ushering in a new era. I have been attempting to replicate something similar with Beatrice, but it is clear that it will not be an easy task.
"My current focus is on transmitting voice, although I am in the early stages of learning magic, so it will take time to comprehend all its complexities... My skill lies not in magic but in physics."
Crusch shows curiosity in her gaze, interrupts her writing, and approaches.
She sits in front of me in silence, a moment where our gazes intertwine, evaluating each other. This special bond we share is not woven from a place of romance but of mutual understanding.
Our shoulders bear significant burdens, and our personal ambitions drive us.
As an individual, Crusch pleases me on a personal level, but I don't necessarily deem her someone to trust blindly.
"Physics? I am not familiar with such a concept."
It's not surprising; mathematical understanding in this world is rudimentary, and physics as an independent science is a foreign concept.
Although mathematical notions exist in this world, the idea of physics as a separate discipline is unknown.
Her question aims to explore beyond the concept, seeking to understand my personal perspective.
"Physics is the study that allows us to comprehend the fundamental laws governing the universe and how matter and energy interact in all their manifestations."
"Matter and energy?" she inquire, delving deeper.
I nod at her question. At this moment, there is no issue with answering her.
She, with her cleverness, understands that I won't address certain topics out of respect. She comprehends that I won't reveal those details and will likely seek other ways to obtain the information she seeks.
"Matter, essentially, is everything that occupies physical space, such as you, me, the earth, and the air that surrounds us. On the other hand, energy is like an invisible 'force' that propels the movement of things, the reason behind the changes we experience, like the motion of the light that illuminates us and the warmth we feel," I explain, attempting to simplify complex concepts for her understanding.
I observe her trying to assimilate my explanation while endeavoring to convey the essence concisely.
"Consider energy as a subtle and omnipresent 'force' behind all occurrences in the world. It's that mysterious force that keeps our feet on the ground and breathes life into things," I add, attempting to evoke a clear image in her mind.
To illustrate my point, I perform a practical demonstration.
I use Murak, manipulating the force of gravity on the table until I manage to make it levitate—an exhibition of control over energy.
"Through the mastery of this energy, I can accomplish feats beyond simple magic. My expertise in these areas enables me to use magic seamlessly and efficiently," I comment, emphasizing the importance of my training in the interaction between matter and energy.
I acknowledge that, thanks to my extensive knowledge, magic becomes a vast realm of possibilities that I must fully explore.
Magic and the understanding of these concepts are not isolated entities; rather, they are intertwined in a cosmic symphony.
"In Irlam, these fundamentals are addressed from their roots in the academies. Our goal is to forge a new generation of wizards, scholars, and citizens with the ability to advance without restrictions,"
I dedicate a confident smile, conveying my determination in this endeavor.
"We have already taken steps in that direction, shaping a population that relies on its ingenuity and talent, depending on no one but themselves."
Noticing how her eyes open with intrigue, I know she has grasped my message. However, I have been deliberately cautious in exposing all the details.
I want to sow doubts in her mind, prompting her to question more, to look beyond the words I have shared.
I wish to convey that my magical proficiency reflects my commitment to learning is noted.
I also want to convey that I am not withholding any knowledge exclusively for myself. My knowledge serves as a beacon, illuminating a path for everyone, even though it may vary in depth and scope.
I desire that all should have the opportunity to embark on this journey and explore their own frontiers.
I won't lay all my cards on the table, as revealing every detail could become a double-edged sword.
Hence, to access advanced knowledge, any individual is required to sign a contract, committing to using that wisdom for the benefit of Irlam and its community.
Additionally, we retain the rights to such knowledge.
Soon, I will issue the first patents in Irlam, allowing people to present and secure their projects exclusively within our community.
The idea is for this concept to spread and take root while we maintain total control over the field of patents.
This approach promises to be a substantial source of income, undoubtedly.
"Irlam... It's truly remarkable how you've managed to transform a simple village into something so exceptional, Marco,"
Crusch admits, her tone reflecting genuine astonishment.
"Your vision and ambition are certainly fascinating."
Her eyes examine me with a gaze I had never witnessed before. Unlike the serious and penetrating expressions from earlier, now she seems to have an air of childlike curiosity.
It appears she wants to delve deeper into what I have achieved and what I plan.
Unnoticed by myself, I allow a moment of relaxation.
My countenance clears, yet a persistent smile lingers on my lips. At times, it's easy to forget how my face can betray my feelings, especially when immersed in conversation.
"Well, there is always someone willing to alter the course of things. My entry into the world was meant to be impactful, to leave a lasting imprint on history,"
I respond confidently, my voice resonating with conviction.
It won't be long before words spread, affirming that Emilia's camp's intervention played a crucial role in the defeat of the formidable whale.
Our conversation hangs in a delicate balance, each of us exploring the corners of the other's words for hidden meanings. In this game of intrigues and ambitions, it becomes clear that Crusch's mind is in constant motion, evaluating every response I offer as I do the same.
It's a cautious dance in which both of us engage, weaving a web of understanding and suspicions.
Neither of us is willing to reveal all our cards, but as the conversation progresses, I can sense that a deeper connection is forming between us.
Despite all uncertainties, I am intrigued to discover where this path will lead us.
We continue talking, each recounting achievements in various fields, one after another, like pieces of a puzzle gradually forming a picture of success.
The title of baron is one of those achievements, but I have chosen not to disclose it to Crusch yet.
I know she will soon find out, but the documents are not in my possession; they have been sent to Irlam, not to the mansion, but to my office in the military building.
Crusch lets out a sigh at my words, shrugging with resignation.
"I always knew you were someone intelligent. That weary expression on your face said it all, revealing the hard work you put in. Your business tactics are impressive; you have significantly improved efficiency, and both of us have reaped benefits from it."
She comments as she rises and settles beside me.
"Still, I have doubts about whether we will fully solidify the alliance. It surprises me that you're not overwhelmed by nervousness ahead of the imminent battle against that colossal monster."
I maintain composure, a quality I have cultivated throughout my experiences. Our plan is meticulously crafted, and in theory, the whale does not pose an insurmountable danger.
The threats of Gluttony and Greed might prove more menacing, but even those elements are uncertain.
"I feel no nervousness, nor can I afford to experience it. If I were to show uncertainty, it would reflect in others," I recline on the sofa, gazing at the ceiling as I reflect. "A leader must be capable of guiding and inspiring their team, and you do the same."
With each step, I feel myself drifting further from my true self. The miasma is causing changes in me, transformations that I neither desire nor entirely control.
"I understand. It's undeniable that you have changed the course of circumstances," responds Crusch, her voice reflecting profound understanding.
Our conversation progresses like a chess game, where each word and move carries hidden meanings and larger strategies.
In this cautious dance, we both explore the boundaries of our relationship and ambitions. On my part, I feel we are intertwined on a path that could lead us to a promising future or an unknown abyss.
"Well, I too have my ambitions," I tell her, holding her gaze as I place my hand on her shoulder. "However, for me, the true essence lies in finding happiness."
Crusch, who had maintained a steadfast focus on her goals until now, seems surprised by my words, and her expression softens with reflection.
"To be happy," she murmurs, as if processing a new idea.
"Yes, the most important thing is to carry out our actions with joy and satisfaction. Otherwise, life lacks meaning. "
It doesn't take much effort for me to express this deeply rooted belief.
"Sometimes, yes, it is necessary to face situations that bring us unhappiness in pursuit of a greater goal, but that doesn't mean we should live immersed in sadness."
The crucial aspect is to find moments of happiness every day, moments that recharge us and allow us to focus on ourselves.
"If you cannot assert that you have experienced happiness at least once a day, then something is amiss," I add, maintaining the premise that guides my approach. Despite not applying it at all times, this idea remains as a beacon within me.
Truly happy individuals are those capable of finding moments of joy even in the midst of their greatest challenges.
"Facing difficulties with a smile," I proclaim confidently, and I see how Crusch seems to find profound meaning in my words. An eloquent silence follows my statements, until finally, she smiles and responds:
"You are an extraordinary man, Marco Luz."
"I do what I can to be better every day," I modestly reply. After this brief but intense conversation, we immerse ourselves in the work that awaits us.
Logistics reports are presented by the team, and Crusch and I dedicate ourselves to reviewing and analyzing every detail meticulously.
Felix and Wilhelm, on their part, make their contribution by compiling the essential information we need.
The night faded away without us sleeping, leaving in its wake the glow of dawn. Every detail has been meticulously planned, and the morning progresses smoothly.
Alongside Crusch, I advance as she guides me to choose a dragon, a crucial decision to move with the utmost speed possible. Although I have ridden horses in the past, the prospect of riding a dragon is a completely new experience for me.
I mentally prepare for what lies ahead, though deep down, I hope the experience is somewhat akin to riding a horse. But, of course, on a much more epic and majestic level.
"Choose one; consider this a gesture of friendship," Crusch tells me, her tone confident and her gaze challenging.
With her suggestion in mind, I begin to explore the various options around me.
I disregard the stories and prejudices surrounding certain dragons and focus on finding one that captures my attention. Patrashe, the dragon I've encountered before, crosses my path, but she seems uncomfortable with my proximity and subtly moves away.
Finally, I reach a dragon of intense crimson red, with thick and sharp scales that exude a sense of intimidation. Its gaze carries a murderous intent that adds to its threatening aura.
Despite its imposing appearance, I approach with determination.
"I keep this dragon for my own pleasure but be aware that it is extremely hostile to newcomers. Don't set too many expectations." Crusch's words caution about the nature of the dragon as I observe its muscular legs and feel it is close warmth.
"What is its name?" I inquire, approaching with confidence, though the dragon attempts to bite me, and I retract my hand in time.
"Grímnir. That's what its former owner named it, who passed away some years ago. Since then, it has maintained this attitude." Crusch's response gives me a brief insight into the history behind this dragon, but I choose not to delve or question further about it.
The name Grímnir reverberates in my mind, evoking a sense of antiquity and mystery. As I hold the dragon's challenging gaze, a connection seems to be established—a kind of mutual recognition between two beings destined to unite in this mission.
The choice becomes clear in my mind as I prepare for what comes next.
"That name..."
The story of Grímnir takes on a mythological tone, although I lack precise memories of a similar tale in my knowledge. Its indomitability suggests that no one has managed to subdue it so far.
However, I know that violence is not the right answer, and I am uncertain if love can prevail in this situation.
The fury in Grímnir's eyes is evident as I approach its side.
I observe its attempt to charge at me with its head, but I stop it using my magical abilities. By touching its body, I channel mana and increase its mass, exerting pressure that begins to dominate it.
Despite its resistance, I do not yield and maintain my determination.
"You are a dragoness with pride and courage. I don't know who your previous owner was, but I too have my pride," I speak with a smile, while Grímnir growls more intensely.
"I will be your owner, but I will respect your pride. From now on, we will be allies."
I continue channeling mana, causing Grímnir to kneel on its hind legs. I feel the warmth of its scales as it maintains its defiant stance.
"Observe my struggle and fight alongside me. I have no intention of meeting an untimely end; I will fortify myself each day," I declare with determination.
I release the accumulated mana, generating a palpable pressure in the environment. Though not as adept as Beatrice, I manage to unsettle the nearby creatures, including Grímnir.
"Roar!" Grímnir responds with a growl, rising with a mixture of nervousness and anger.
"Exactly, we shall be invincible."
I feel a connection with Grímnir similar to what the protagonist might have experienced. It's as if both of us are destined to unite.
His acceptance of my magical influence surprises me, yet I also sense that Grímnir understood that inherent connection between us.
"It's amazing that he accepted you. It's as if he knew you were the right choice," remarks Crusch, seemingly grasping part of the situation, although there are details shared only between Grímnir and me.
After this brief episode, we head towards the Flugel Tree.
For the journey, we decide to transport all the dragons in separate carriages, considering possible fatigue during the trip.
Our goal is to be in the best possible condition, as every detail can be crucial.
Once everything is prepared, we start boarding the carriages. My soldiers, Emilia, and I travel in a separate carriage, while Crusch and her group occupy another. The march begins, and the path to our destination unfolds before us, full of uncertainty and anticipation.
Emilia shows a slight nervousness, though she tries to remain strong. It's something I perceive due to my proximity to her.
The soldiers, on the other hand, look resolute but somewhat weary.
It's evident that battles and training have left their mark on them.
In this battle, their role is one of external protection, while the artillery will be tasked with confronting the threat head-on. Beatrice, on the other hand, appears to be relishing the moment.
Her joy is palpable, and I contemplate the possibility of spending time with her in the capital, perhaps going shopping, maybe in the future, just the two of us, or even with Emilia.
Both remain silent, and I respect their space as my thoughts focus on what lies ahead. The priority is to avoid death.
My life is crucial in facing the whale's threat and capitalizing on the information I have acquired. Without the ability to use magic correctly, confronting the whale will be an even greater challenge.
My goal is to achieve a victory as flawless as possible.
Although the return by death grants me the ability to plan, I feel that I rely too much on luck in that process.
The idea of abusing this ability does not appeal to me.
Additionally, I have limited trust in the miasma as an energy source. I fear that by using it, I will lose something irreplaceable in my mind and being.
I prefer not to overly depend on the return by death resource.
While I have not frequently experienced death, each time I do, I feel my connection to reality fading. The only thing left is my purpose, and that deeply concerns me. The prospect of dying and reviving unsettles me.
I will always be alive, as in a game where you can return from the saved point. However, I do not want to die, not for death itself but for the strange sensation that lingers afterward.
I feel that I could teeter on the brink of insanity amid that recurring and disorienting experience.
As we approach the confrontation with the whale, my thoughts focus on preserving my life and the challenge that awaits us.
The future is uncertain, but my determination is unwavering.
I won't allow death and the cycle of rebirth to define my existence; I will fight to keep my sanity and identity intact.
My last resort, should all other plans fail, is to resort to the strategy employed by the protagonist in similar situations. However, I am confident that my theory will work, and it won't be necessary to resort to such extremes.
"We will prevail," I assert, capturing the attention of all present, who look at me with some surprise.
After a few brief seconds of astonishment, smiles begin to appear on the faces of my companions, and everyone joins me with enthusiasm.
"Yes!" they exclaim in a united chorus, reinforcing confidence in our victory. After an hour of travel, I finally spot the imposing grand tree that stands majestically, reaching the heights of the clouds.
Its dimensions are so colossal that it is awe-inspiring, no matter how much I see it, I am carried away by the wonder it represents.
It is evident that this tree has been nurtured and sustained with mana exceptionally, enabling its astonishing growth.
The wise Flugel, an intriguing enigma in history... It was hinted that he was the very protagonist, though it leads me to ponder:
Am I truly that protagonist?
There exists a means to verify this, as the novel mentioned that a message was left in the tree. If I can confirm the existence of that message, it could clarify the mystery of whether I was the one who left those words.
I would never consider carving a tree to inscribe meaningless nonsense.
Furthermore, if the sage himself planted this tree and managed to make it grow in such a short time, enough to leave a message, which would be a memorable feat not easily forgotten.
Our carriages finally come to a halt, breaking my chain of thoughts. We disembark swiftly, and the fresh air fills my lungs. The imposing sight of the tree before my eyes compels me to tilt my head until my neck protests the effort.
"Majestic," comments Lucas, impressed by the magnificence of the tree. "I always saw it from afar until recently, but I never imagined it would be so imposing... I'd like to bring my wife and daughter to see it."
The height of the tree likely surpasses three kilometers or more, making it truly monumental.
"When all of this concludes, you'll have a well-deserved vacation to fulfill that wish. Don't worry about money; you know it's not lacking," I affirm, and a proud smile forms on his face.
Crusch initiates the orchestration of the magical cannon assembly, while the dragons are meticulously disembarked from their improvised carriages. Each of us engages in diverse tasks, from organizing provisions to establishing the infirmary camp.
The significance of order is undeniable in moments such as these.