Inside the command cabin, the atmosphere was heavy.
Several important figures were already seated around a large round table, the polished wood reflecting the faint, cold light from the enchanted crystals lining the ceiling.
When Mage Lian entered the room with Michael in tow, heads turned as everyone swss about to stand and greet before they were stopped by the Grand Mage.
An audible murmur passed among the seated figures, some glancing at Michael with open skepticism, others hiding their thoughts behind neutral expressions.
Mage Lian didn’t react.
He simply walked to the head of the table, motioning for Michael to sit on the open seat by his side, and opened the meeting.
“This,” he began, voice calm and resonant, “is Sir Mic. He will be a valuable ally during this operation.”
He left it at that.
No grand introduction. No explanation of credentials or abilities.
Just a simple statement.
And then silence.
The kind of silence that grew heavier with every passing second.
Several figures exchanged looks. The silence wasn’t innocent — it was thick with doubt.
Michael could feel their gazes, the unspoken words floating through the room.
He’s too young.
An unfamiliar face.
What help could he possibly provide?
No one voiced these thoughts aloud, but the distrust was clear.
However, out of respect for Mage Lian’s position—and perhaps also because of the looming threat they were soon to face—none of them dared to speak against it.
Still, the air remained tense.
Mage Lian didn’t seem surprised. In fact, he almost looked amused as he continued, “As for the absent member of our meeting, my fellow colleague… he will be joining us separately.”
No one asked who.
They all knew.
It could only be the Grand Knight.
A figure of legendary status, one who rarely attended meetings unless the king himself demanded it. That he wasn’t here wasn’t a slight—it was expected.
Mage Lian then unfurled a large map onto the table, pressing the edges down with small stones that stuck to the surface.
“In a few hours,” he continued, tracing a spot on the map with his finger, “we’ll arrive at the Everlong Forest.”
He tapped the center of the massive green expanse.
“A space has already been cleared for us to establish a forward camp. The kingdom’s mages and scouts worked over the past week to prepare it.”
Someone, a grizzled Commander of one of the knight squads, leaned forward and asked, “Why not launch a direct assault once we land?”
Before Mage Lian could answer, another figure—a younger strategist in dark robes—interjected, “That would be reckless. We know little about the monster. We need caution.”
Mage Lian gave a thin smile. “The young man is correct.”
He straightened, his voice gaining a sharper edge.
“We don’t even know the creature’s exact location yet. If we launch an immediate assault and it detects us, it could flee—or worse, set up a trap.”
Several heads nodded reluctantly.
Caution would be their ally more than raw power in these unknown circumstances.
“And most importantly,” Mage Lian added, his gaze sweeping the room, “this monster can control minds. We have safeguards in place, but if we move rashly and expose ourselves, we may hand it more weapons to use against us.”
The room fell into a heavier silence.
Discussions followed, tactical points thrown back and forth.
Scouting parties would be sent first—small groups led by Knights enhanced with mental defense magic.
Once the location was verified, the full assault would begin.
No one argued with this plan.
After nearly an hour of discussing assignments, contingencies, and fallback plans, the meeting finally wound down.
Soon, only Mage Lian and Michael remained in the command cabin, the map still spread out between them.
For a while, neither spoke. The quiet hum of the ship’s engines and the soft rattle of distant footsteps filled the space.
Finally, Mage Lian broke the silence, glancing at Michael with a smile.
“What did you think of the meeting?” he asked, voice casual.
Michael thought for a moment, then shrugged. “It was fine.”
It was an honest answer. He hadn’t sensed anything particularly wrong—tense, maybe, but no different from what he expected when dozens of powerful figures gathered to discuss a mission.
To his surprise, Mage Lian laughed. A short, hearty sound that echoed lightly off the wooden walls.
“Fine, he says,” Lian chuckled, stroking his beard. “You’re not wrong. But you should know, Sir Mic—meetings like this are mostly formalities.”
Michael tilted his head slightly, curious.
Lian’s smile turned a bit more serious.
“The real operation? It doesn’t rest on the army. Not truly. You might have guessed already.”
Michael slowly nodded.
Lian leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “The five hundred knights, the mobilization… they’re important, yes. But at the heart of it, this operation depends on powers like ours.”
He tapped the map lightly.
“Two Grand Mages. One Grand Knight. And ‘Him’.”
“You’ve done well already, Sir Mic,” Mage Lian said, his tone warm. ” The kingdom recognizes efforts. Your rewards, if we succeed, will not be light.”
Michael and Mage Lian then spoke for a little longer.
Interestingly, Mage Lian made no mention of the Duke of Evermoon competition.
Michael noticed the omission, but didn’t press. If Mage Lian didn’t bring it up, then it wasn’t something he needed to concern himself with—at least for now.
As they stood, preparing to leave the cabin, Mage Lian fell into step beside Michael, hands clasped behind his back.
Outside, the sky was bright.
The massive flying ships hovered in loose formation, their banners fluttering with the rush of magical wind.
Michael took a long breath, the cool air filling his lungs.
All he wanted now was to meet a familiar foe.
He was ready.
Michael returned to his assigned room with the assistance of a knight, the halls buzzing quietly with the tension of what was to come.
Inside, he waited, sharpening his mind.
All of a sudden a thought came to him.
“I wonder if I can turn it to an undead.”