The midday bell rang loud and clear, echoing throughout the academy grounds.
Led by the mayor and the principal, a delegation of high-profile figures from both the City Council and the Academy Council—along with the Student Council members—stood lined up at the entrance of the first school block, forming a formal welcoming party of over twenty people, all in anticipation of Princess Vivian's arrival.
"For Princess Vivian to personally grace Roshar with her presence... just how long has it been since her last visit?"
Dr. Clarisse Kornwell—who had traded in her signature white lab coat for an elegant, seldom-seen formal gown—stood near the front of the group. Despite recently taking on the role of a lecturer, Clarisse remained a nationally treasured researcher, entrusted with rare academic autonomy.
While this assembly of dignitaries might have seemed impressive, it was surprisingly modest for welcoming a royal. Typically, even commoners would be rallied to throw a full-scale ceremony. But Vivian's tastes were known—she abhorred extravagance. Prior notice had even been given to avoid any formalities beyond necessity. The academy continued to operate as usual.
The Student Council stood at the center of the welcoming party—Roderika, Matt, Zack, and Ico.
In a small but notable detail, Vaestro Lainn and Vaestro Mordred were also present. Lainn, Roderika's Par and the academy's strongest Vaestro, gleamed with radiant silver fur. His hulking frame was so massive and majestic that no mounting gear could fit him. His presence drew gasps and stares of awe.
Mordred, on the other hand, was Matt's Par—a noble Vaestro, yet with the aura of a spoiled prince. Still in the early stages of growth, he radiated an innocent charm that invited affectionate doting.
"Hey, Ico… are you really planning to join the welcome party for Princess Vivian?" Zack asked, casting her a dubious look.
"What? Do you have a problem with that?" she snapped back, puffing out her chest with pride.
Ico stood proudly in the lineup, dressed in the same stunning black gown she'd worn at the previous ceremony. Her bare shoulders shimmered under the sunlight, the texture of the dress offering a contrast to her porcelain skin. It was clear she'd grown fond of that outfit—and it was equally clear Zack was trying not to stare too long.
But Ico wasn't the problem today. It was Silva.
"The Princess… is she really not coming?" Zack asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Roderika sighed and shook her head. "Look, if she's that terrified, we can't just drag her out. Whatever happened in her past with Vivian must've left a real scar."
"It's still hard to believe… she's terrified of her own sister?" Zack mused aloud.
"Who's terrified of what?"
The interruption came sharply—and to everyone's surprise, the voice belonged to Silva herself.
"Princess…!"
Instantly, all members of the City and Academy Councils bowed in reverence. With the poise and dignity befitting her title, Silva replied with a calm "Thank you for your service," before striding confidently toward them.
"Are you alright now?" Zack asked gently as she approached.
Silva flashed a radiant, confident smile that took him aback. Her aquamarine hair shimmered in the sun, and even though she wore a standard school uniform, she carried herself like royalty reborn. Her skin glowed with renewed energy, and her body language radiated self-assurance.
"Who do you think I am? I'm Silva Steinert of the House of Steinert! I may have shown a disgraceful side before… but I've collected myself. I'm fine now."
Zack smiled back. "That's… actually a relief."
Still, her recovery seemed almost too miraculous to be natural. Something had shifted—but he couldn't quite tell what.
Beside them, Roderika took a firm tone. "Silva, how could you come without Lancelot? As a Dragonborn, you should be with your Par when greeting a royal guest."
Lancelot, the regal Maestro of Silva, had become a familiar figure to Zack during the recent Necromancia attack.
"…Sorry. There wasn't time to explain, but… my sister, she's not fond of Lancelot."
"Is this because she wasn't chosen as a Breeder?"
"…Maybe. Something like that," Silva replied ambiguously.
Roderika arched a brow and then—unexpectedly softened. "I see. Then I'll let it go."
Zack blinked. What was that about?
Before he could press for more, murmurs spread through the gathered adults.
"I see it!"
"Look! That's Princess Vivian's…!"
"They actually built something like that?"
"It looks like a warship from the Empire…!"
Zack turned his eyes to the horizon.
Something emerged from the clear blue sky—a black dot that quickly grew into a looming silhouette, vast and foreboding. It glided silently above the clouds, its outline gradually sharpening into the form of an enormous airborne vessel, escorted by seven majestic dragons.
"No way…" Zack's jaw dropped.
Compared to the dragons flanking it, the ship was gargantuan. Even the largest of the winged beasts looked like toy figurines in comparison.
"That," Roderika said solemnly beside him, "is Princess Vivian's personal vessel—the magicship Cornellius."