The night was beautiful.

Ellis, along with the other students, came stumbling onto the airship where Knight Chryslar and Oland waited to look after them. Laughter spilled across the deck, punctuated by the occasional wobble and catch.

Perhaps it was for his sins, or perhaps some lingering attachment to the academy—even though nothing remained of it now but ruins—Oland hung around the students and watched over them like he was their butler. He steadied them when they swayed, directed them toward railings when they wandered too close to edges, all with the patient resignation of someone who'd long since stopped expecting dignity from the young.

All of them were drunk, both on wine and happiness, and Northern just leaned against the rim and watched them make fools of themselves.

Watching them did grace his lips with a smile.

Here, in this moment, he found the gentility of life in a manner he never used to. It was strange how something so simple—watching people stumble and laugh and be utterly careless—could feel like a gift.

Then he spotted Judgment, who seemed locked in an intensely serious discussion with Nyssira, face flushed and eyes burning with passion.

'Should I be worried for Nyssa…'

He decided not to think about it too hard.

After all of them had swooped in like a bunch of drunkards, gracing the deck with a little bit of drama before the adults managed to usher them into their rooms, silence fell on the airship once again.

And in that silence, Sael came to Northern.

He stood beside him without saying anything, just looking into the night sky—coated with a dark-blue hue and a million white dots. The wind carried the faint smell of altitude, thin and cold.

Sael did glance at Northern a lot, thinking he was rather smooth with it. He wasn't.

Only for Northern to say moments later:

"I can do a lot of things, for sure. But reading minds isn't one of them."

Sael belatedly looked at him, chuckling with the subtle shame of someone caught trying to be clever.

"Ahah… indeed, indeed Lord Northern. If you had been capable of such… I don't know, you might as well have been an Origin."

Northern smiled. To Sael, that smile was hollow and distant. Sad, even—though he couldn't quite make sense of it.

Sael sighed.

"Lord Northern, do you perhaps bear too much?"

Northern sighed as well.

'I guess I'm just going to have to get used to this Lord thing…'

He peered at Sael and took his eyes away a moment later.

"There is too much to bear. I want to believe everyone has their own weights. As I do, so do you, so does the King of Ryugan."

Sael looked at Northern, admiration peeking at the edges of his eyes.

He looked away, smiled, and nodded.

"You're indeed right. Very right."

Northern hesitated for a moment, but eventually turned to face him fully. His eyes carried so much seriousness that the atmosphere shifted, and Sael seemed to stiffen.

"Lord Northern… is there…"

"I was thinking…" Northern started, his gaze fixed on the Arrow Sage. "What do you know about the art of war?"

Sael froze in place.

He was most certainly taken aback by the question—so much so that he stuttered the first two seconds.

"Uhm, t–the, a–art of war?"

He asked, looking at Northern. Not that he was expecting a reply.

"There are certain things I could say I've come to master about that. All from experience, nonetheless." He paused, letting his words drift through the cold air. "I've been a footsoldier. I've been led to battle, and I've led people to battle. I've also worked as a mercenary for hire during certain national conflicts… I'm not entirely estranged from it, but I would still consider myself lacking in experience compared to in-bred veterans."

Northern nodded after the man's words, assessing them. Sael had more depth than he'd initially given him credit for. That was useful.

Sael carefully looked at him.

"Why do you ask… is there…" He hesitated. "Do you need a War General? I have a few I respect…"

Northern shook his head.

"Not so urgently…"

He entered another moment of silence. Each silence was spent processing the knowledge he was receiving from his original self, still stuck in the library. Threads of information wove together in the back of his mind—histories, patterns, names. The picture was becoming clearer, and he didn't like what he was seeing.

"But… I have a few people I can already depend on. I just don't know the scope of our enemies. I'm trying not to limit my thoughts." He met Sael's eyes. "Perhaps to war against such a mighty nation as Reimgard, we will need all the help we can get."

Sael trembled. His eyes widened.

Northern had simply broken that news like he was talking about how unfortunate it would be to bake a cookie without getting it burnt. It was so unfair of him.

Sael was suddenly feeling feverish, looking like he was losing a lot of body water.

"I'm s–so–sorry, Re–reim–gard? T–the E–empire?" He stuttered. Literally.

Northern gripped his shoulders with a smile.

"Geez, why do you look so shaken? It's just the Empire, really. They should be the ones trembling and stuttering so much."

Sael's face was still struggling to accept what he was hearing. He was torn between shock and disbelief.

"But why? Why would we want to probe that area at all?"

Northern replied, smiling.

'I love this part.'

"Because they probed us first."

Sael looked at him, still miles behind the realm of understanding. But Northern gently patted his shoulders and patiently explained nonetheless.

"You see, I've been studying for a while, and I've been discovering some really shady things that the Empire has done. Their rule of intimidation and avoidance of conflict… apparently, beneath the noses of all twenty-five nations of the continent, the Empire has been spreading."

Sael frowned.

Northern looked at him and warned:

"By the way, I'm not a man of politics, so my delivery may not be the best."

He sighed.

"The Empire was the one… apparently sponsoring Dante Gafare's revolutionary dream. In fact, they were the ones that sponsored the first revolutionary war that brought about the creation of the government. It's safe to say that the Empire owned the government… and some nations had suspicions, which was the main reason why the government's wings were limited so much."

All this news shocked Sael over and over again. Each revelation seemed to hit him like a physical blow, his expression cycling through disbelief, dawning horror, and something approaching outrage.

Northern's lips curled. There was a crooked, suspicious smile on his face.

"But all of this… imagine, was just one of the many ways that the Empire was constantly trying to take over the continent. There was Luinngard too, and others… Now, what concerns me more is the greed of the Emperor that's being passed down to generations after him."

He paused thoughtfully. The wind picked up for a moment, carrying with it the chill of higher altitudes.

"Is it really a dream of greed? Or something else… There's something they understand that's making them move in this manner. There has to be something."

'Empires don't persist across generations on greed alone. Greed burns itself out. This is something else. Something with roots.'

Northern looked at Sael seriously.

"I think the Emperor of Reimgard is trying to become an Origin."

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