—Cornellius.
This marvel of magical engineering was the brainchild of Princess Vivian, constructed with the help of exiled scientists from the Zephyros Empire. The Cornellius, enormous enough to dominate the entire open plaza, descended gracefully before the academy's central block. Its landing was so fluid and soundless that it reminded one of a majestic swan gliding across the surface of a tranquil lake.
The ship's body was sleek, aerodynamic—its silhouette reminiscent of a Vaestro with its wings unfurled. Gleaming white armor interlaced with crimson patterns gave it a regal, almost mythical presence. Various hatches across its hull hinted at built-in magic-powered artillery, quietly promising destruction for any who dared oppose it.
Zack stood frozen, mouth slightly agape as he took in the splendor of the legendary ship.
"I've read about it in military reports, but seeing it in person... this thing's a monster," he muttered.
Beside him, Silva responded, her expression proud.
"This magicship runs on Bright Dragon Crystal fuel. Even though sis wasn't chosen as a Breeder, she utilized Dragon Magic and Imperial mechanical engineering to bring the Cornellius to life."
"So it's powered by an Oracle's blessing… Literally," Zack remarked in awe.
"That's right. But the fuel it uses is a rare variant called Millennium Bright Dragon Crystal. It's not something you can just dig up."
"Millennium…?"
"Dragon fossils that have remained dormant for over a thousand years may crystallize into these incredibly potent gems."
"I had no idea something like that even existed…"
"Of course you didn't. Not many do," Silva said, brushing a lock of her golden hair behind her ear.
"Still, compared to the larger airships of the Empire, the Cornellius is smaller and less armored. That's why her defense relies heavily on Dragonborns. You noticed them, right?"
Zack nodded. Indeed, seven Dragonborn had landed ahead of the vessel. Only one of them wore an Ark, likely the leader of the escort unit.
"Vivian is about to disembark," Roderika warned them sternly. "No talking."
Zack and Silva clammed up immediately. As the Cornellius's main hatch creaked open, gears turning with mechanical grace, a staircase descended. A moment later—
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound of boots echoed as a single woman walked down the ramp, the sharp rhythm of her steps slicing through the air like steel. Zack gasped, his eyes widening. She wasn't simply a princess—she was a warrior incarnate. A Valkyrie in every sense of the word.
Though clearly Silva's sister, the differences between them were stark. Both possessed radiant blonde hair and white skin, but where Silva's beauty leaned toward the elegant and noble, Vivian exuded authority and strength.
Her figure was tall and athletic, her presence heavy and commanding. She wore a long red cloak that billowed behind her like blood-tinted fire, and her eagle-like gaze scanned the crowd with razor-sharp precision.
Zack felt his chest tighten under her gaze—it was as if her eyes could see right through him, piercing straight into his soul.
With a dramatic flourish of her cloak, Vivian addressed the assembly.
"Thank you for gathering here to welcome me. I appreciate the effort."
Her voice was bold and resonant. The moment her cloak lifted, everyone got a clear view of the steel-plated armor around her arms and legs. Her gauntlets and sabatons gleamed under the sunlight, and the massive greatsword strapped to her back was stained with the legends of slain beasts and enemies alike.
She was, unmistakably, the Ironblood Valkyrie.
The mayor and the other leaders moved to kneel in salute, but Vivian waved her hand impatiently.
"Dispense with the ceremony. I loathe such needless formalities. Now—where is Silva?" Her words cracked like a whip. In a blink, her eyes scanned the crowd.
"We haven't met in a long time, my sister," a calm voice rang out. Silva stepped forward with practiced grace.
"It's been four years, two months, and twelve days, dear sister," she continued. "Since the day I left the palace and enrolled in Roshar, we haven't seen each other."
Zack raised an eyebrow. Silva was composed—almost too composed. For someone who had been shaking like a leaf just days prior, her current confidence seemed... suspicious.
And then, it happened.
SLAP!—or rather, it should have. Veronica raised her arm, aiming to strike.
But in a flash of motion—
Silva leapt high into the air, gracefully spinning mid-flight before landing five meters away in a nimble crouch. Her skirt fluttered from the acrobatics, briefly revealing the skin of her inner thighs and the lace trim of her undergarments.
She stood tall, grinning. "Are you angry, sister?"
That mischievous smirk—that wasn't Silva at all. At least, not the one Zack knew.
"You dare toy with me!? You must have grown a pair of wings in that empty little head of yours!"
Then—rip!
A wig of long, golden hair was peeled away, revealing soft, wavy lilac locks underneath.
"What the hell!?" Zack blurted.
Shanon, now fully revealed, flashed a teasing smile.
"I knew she'd see through it," Roderika muttered under her breath.
Even Vivian was momentarily stunned. The crowd around them was dead silent.
"Well, of course I knew," Vivian finally barked. "There was no fear in your eyes! The real Silva always looks like she's staring death in the face!"
"I'll remember that for next time," Shanon said sweetly.
"You insolent little girl. A shame you're not under my command. It's not too late—how about it, Shanon? Join me."
Shanon shook her head, resolute. "I only serve one person. Princess Silva."
Vivian snorted. "That trembling little mouse? What's so special about her?"
"Everything," Shanon replied without blinking. "Every little thing about her is precious."
A murmur of disbelief spread through the group or people.
"Tch. Enough foolishness. Now tell me—where is Silva?"
"I… I'm here!" A trembling voice broke through the crowd. The real Silva stepped forward, wearing her uniform and looking like she might collapse at any moment. Her knees shook as if they couldn't bear her weight.
Zack clenched his fists. "Will she be okay…?"
Roderika's response was cold and flat. "She won't die."
Not exactly reassuring.
"You're dismissed, Shanon," Silva said, voice low.
"I will, Princess."
With a graceful bow, Shanon turned and disappeared into the gathering.