Admiral Yan and Northern walked side by side. As they made their way out of Thunderhead, the Admiral couldn't stop glancing at the corners of the ship—the reinforced walls that seemed to absorb light, the joints and seams that shouldn't have fit together but did, perfectly, impossibly.

'I expected to see something mighty. Something impossible.' He swallowed. 'But my pitiful mind, even with that, still thought within a certain scope of expectation. But this… this… this ship is insanity. It's what happens when a craftsman goes mad.'

The delicate interwovenness of the engine hummed through the floor, a soft vibration that traveled up through his boots and into his bones. Admiral Yan could feel the power of the airship in the soles of his feet—a constant, patient pressure, like standing on the chest of something breathing. Each step required effort. His legs didn't want to lift. The ship itself seemed to resist his leaving, as if gravity worked differently here.

And to add to this burden, he had to walk right next to the master of such a vessel.

Northern was just a normal guy walking beside him. That was the thing. He moved like anyone would—unhurried, relaxed, utterly at ease. But Admiral Yan found himself watching his own feet, adjusting his stride, terrified he might accidentally brush against Northern's sleeve. He was hyperaware of every function of his body. The swing of his arms. The rhythm of his breathing. The space between them that felt both too close and not close enough to be safe.

The boy didn't threaten him in any manner. Hadn't so much as raised his voice. But Admiral Yan felt his own body warning him—a tightness in his chest, a prickling at the back of his neck. Instinct, maybe. The same instinct that made prey animals freeze when predators passed nearby.

"Are you okay, Admiral Yan?"

Northern asked the question as they finally reached the deck of the airship. There was a white-haired lady standing toward the bow. She glanced back and shot a glare at them—at Admiral Yan specifically—before turning away.

The Admiral quickly tried to ignore it, focusing instead on Northern's question.

"Ahem…" He chuckled, and even to his own ears it sounded thin. "It's… it's just a lot. Your airship…"

"Ah, right. Thunderhead can be suffocating at times—the perpetual darkness, the oppressive air, the constant low vibration of the engines." Northern nodded as if this were perfectly normal, perfectly reasonable. "I'm sorry. I can't really put it to a stop without reverting it to its original form."

The Admiral paused mid-step as they descended the ship's stairs. He turned, looking at Northern with an expression he couldn't quite control.

"Original form…?" His voice came out strange. Thin. His eyes darted between the massive airship behind them and the young man beside him.

"Yes." Northern smiled. "It's a good one when you see it. Very intimidating tower, aha…"

Northern simply laughed—cluelessly, with all the kindness and shyness gathered in the world pressed into that single sound.

It didn't make sense.

Something about Northern, about the ship, felt fundamentally wrong. Not dangerous, exactly. Just… wrong. Like looking at something that shouldn't exist and having your mind refuse to fully accept what your eyes were showing you.

Aside from having seen Northern deconstruct—not defeat, deconstruct—Prince Rieran without even trying, the Admiral respected the young Paragon. And even with the way things were going, even with the likely conflict with the Empire looming on the horizon, he was more than happy to have Northern on his side.

But even standing in Northern's overwhelming presence, even knowing what he'd witnessed, Admiral Yan couldn't silence the questions that fear kept breeding in the back of his mind.

'Will he be enough?'

Indeed, Northern was strong enough to destroy Tyrants and Origins. He'd seen proof of that with his own eyes.

But at the end of the day, he was only a man.

'Just one… man.'

The thought settled in Admiral Yan's chest like a stone, and he felt himself grow somber despite everything.

Northern stood before the carriage, glancing back as the Admiral's steps lagged behind.

"Admiral Yan?"

The man looked up quickly. "Ah, Lord Northern, forgive my tardiness." He hurried forward, gestured for Northern to climb into the carriage first, then followed after him.

The bearers lifted the little pagoda with practiced ease and carried them out of port, their footsteps falling into a hypnotic rhythm against the stone.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the main palace. The Admiral led Northern through the outer grounds toward the war room where the King and several other nobles were waiting. The compound stretched wide around them—courtyards and covered walkways, servants who bowed low and then stared after they passed.

Northern glanced at the Admiral as they walked, a cool smile playing on his face.

"Admiral Yan. Would it be alright if you gave me a rundown of whom to expect? Perhaps who to be wary of…"

The Admiral chuckled at Northern's choice of words. "Aha, wary?"

'You mean people like you get wary? Wary of what, exactly?'

He swallowed the thought and forced himself to focus on what Northern had actually asked.

'I have to think about this carefully. Who knows—he could be testing me. He's a strong man. There's no way he needs to be wary of anything, and it's not as though he doesn't know that himself.' The Admiral kept his pace steady, his expression pleasant. 'Hmm. A test. This must be a test. He wants to know if I still perceive him as weak after everything I've witnessed. Yan. Be wise.'

He smiled at Northern, projecting a perfectly sane expression—in stark contrast to the state of his head.

"Ryugan does not have many nobles. Fewer than fifty, in fact, and most of those are commanders of traders rather than blades." He clasped his hands behind his back as they walked. "Today, only the powerhouses will be gathering. The Dukes, the Marquises, the Earls. Among them, there are only two truly worthy of your attention—the two Dukes of Ryugan."

Admiral Yan allowed himself a breath before continuing.

"The first is General Sethran Yuen. They call him the Victorious Son of the Dragon Flame. He hails from the Duchy family that fought alongside the pioneers of Ryugan, and he's been the King's dueling partner since they were boys." The Admiral's voice carried a note of genuine respect. "He's also the one who trained all four princes—and the princess—in combat. Everything they know about fighting, they learned from him."

Northern nodded, cataloging the information.

'No wonder Roma's combat was so polished…'

The Admiral continued without prompting.

"The second is Duke Amene Kaien—though he's better known as Jiro the Grey. Or the Gentleman of Ash and Flame." Admiral Yan stole a glance at Northern's face as they reached the hallway leading to the war room. His voice dropped slightly, as if the name itself demanded caution. "He's a blind swordsman. A Sage with an EX class talent. The strongest person in Ryugan. And he only recently became a Duke—entirely on merit."

Something shifted in Northern's expression. Subtle. A flicker of interest that hadn't been there before.

'EX classes are incredibly rare. I look forward to meeting this one.'

Admiral Yan exhaled and added, "Aside from them, there are three Marquises and five Earls. Those are all the major parties attending this meeting."

He came to a stop before the heavy doors and glanced back at Northern, seeking permission in his eyes.

Northern's expression had settled back into something straight and even.

"Alright. Let's get into it."

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