Morning in Ryugan was rather beautiful. Although it was more of a story of snow. From the corridor of the Grand Archive where he stood, he could see the middle sector of the city—of course, what he was able to see was only a section, but the view was enough. Buildings with wooden frames, warm-toned and heavy-roofed, their curved eaves designed to shed snow. Each structure was anchored on narrow ledges or supported by stilts driven into the mountain, giving the whole place a terraced, vertical look.

Snow blanketed the rooftops and gathered in the creases between homes, while plumes of wind swept fresh powder across the slopes.

The pathways were steep—more stairways and ladders than roads—zigzagging sharply between houses. Blue banners and cloth hung in a few places, adding tiny spots of color against the overwhelming blue-white of winter.

Behind it all rose a brutal, jagged peak, impossibly high, catching the sun and throwing long, cold shadows down over the settlement. The entire city felt hardy and close-knit. A place where people survived by hanging together and mastering the mountain, not fighting it.

He enjoyed the view while taking in a cup of tea.

This time, he was having his own cup—not sharing, not performing some ritual of diplomacy. A palace maid had brought it earlier at dawn and said the princess ordered that he must drink it. Apparently the tea was supposed to work against insomnia, at least that was what the letter accompanying it had addressed, since she knew he wouldn't be sleeping.

'She's taking care of me... quite well.'

Northern took another sip, letting the warmth settle in his chest. The taste was mild, something herbal and faintly sweet.

Indeed, he had been in the library for over a day. His clones were still there, doing their tasks and gathering knowledge. For now, he had filtered his cognitive parallel flows into compartmentalized streams—making sure he didn't absorb everything yet. After he was done with today, he would slowly integrate each of the parallel flows and fully understand what they had learned so far.

But first, he had to take his bath, have a good breakfast, and prepare to be summoned by the King.

With that in mind, Northern walked down the corridor, into the stairs that led to the lower floors of the Grand Archives, and then eventually came out at a vast snow-covered compound. Guards and royal servants walked around in clusters, breath misting in the cold air.

He had actually thought about flying. But Northern didn't want to cause a spectacle, and also—who didn't want to be able to take morning walks, admire the beauty of nature, and remind himself wistfully of the beautiful things about being human?

Not that he was.

Not that he felt anything aside from human, at the same time.

A Daemon... whatever it was, didn't come with a special feeling of difference. He just could think better, rarely got tired, and could see, hear, and smell really well. Exceptionally well.

His sense of smell was as good as his sight...

'...Hell no.'

Maybe half as good as his sight. But he could filter certain smells that he recognized from the mix of other scents they came with.

Like the soldiers that had passed him. While he had just come out of the library, he could still smell them at the entrance of the gate. They carried a unique smell of the sea—salt and brine and something metallic beneath it.

There were maids that smelled smoky, some more flowery. It was truly diverse. And it wasn't just them. There was the smell of the snow itself, clean and sharp. The mountain, ancient stone and frozen earth. Everything was coming together and mixing to create one unified scent that probably perpetually flowed through the whole of Ryugan.

'Every city has its own smell. This one's... not bad, actually.'

He walked amidst the frost forest—a sparse collection of trees clinging to the mountain slope. Royal workers were chopping down timber, and many did not mind him, simply facing their work. The rhythm of axes against wood echoed off the stone.

Through the forest, he reached the back entry of the Port. While there was an indoor connection from the Port to the Palace, this was the way many accessed it.

Well, passing through the front door meant going through the Middle sector of the city and reaching the Palace main gate. He might as well have gone that route, but he was in the Grand Archive, and could see the Air Port more clearly from there.

Hence, here he was.

He walked into the Port amongst air marshals busy with their morning routine. A few rows and columns ran drills, their carved muscles leaking with sweat and tank tops drenched despite the cold morning. Northern passed them without breaking stride.

He walked to the largest dock on the Port that was currently occupied, ascending the four-layered stairs until the magnificent staircase of the ship laid out before him.

People could see the Thunderhead Dreadnought clearly now. Not that they couldn't before—but having to see it through the dark storm had been like viewing it through a thin black nylon, and now that nylon was taken off. They could all see clearly.

Many stopped their activities, unable to take their eyes away from the sheer magnificence as Northern climbed toward the airship.

The massive structure looked like a castle of its own.

"Move it!"

One of the higher ranks yelled, causing the men running their drills to snap back to attention. They immediately shouted:

"Hyaaa!"

"Hyaaa!"

"Hyaaa!"

Like that, with each step they took as they jogged. The sound echoed across the dock, sharp and rhythmic.

Meanwhile, Northern reached the ship and first caught sight of something amusing.

There was a young, blonde-haired girl climbing over the bow rim of the airship, unaware of his presence.

Northern stood and watched her with a plain expression.

She stood on top of the rim, looking down at the other side. He did not know what she was seeing, but it made her shoulders shake.

He stepped closer though, traveling between shadows, and he looked down too.

"Ah... water? Is that why you're happy?" He said casually, then lifted his face to look at Judgment, who froze in place. "You want to run away?"

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