The Northern Sky Fortress loomed against the horizon, a monolithic testament to the duchy’s cutting-edge magitech. Measuring a staggering one thousand feet from bow to stern, the flying dreadnought was a singular airborne miracle designed for long-distance warfare and mass transport. While a handful of wealthy noble families possessed smaller airships, those private vessels were mere sailing toys compared to this leviathan. Constructed entirely from pristine World Tree timber—secured through hard-fought treaties and heavy concessions with the Elven Kingdom—the fortress-class ship gleamed in brilliant shades of cerulean blue and polished gold, its white flags bearing the crest of the Northern Sky duchy snapping proudly in the wind.
Inside its massive hull, the airship was divided into five distinct decks:
The Command Deck occupied the open-air summit, providing space for passengers to walk or soldiers to engage in aerial combat. It housed the central Control Room, the First Officer’s quarters, and the Captain’s personal residence—a sprawling three-bedroom suite complete with a massive bathing area and a dedicated cultivation chamber. At the stern lay a manicured garden, meticulously tended by a Life Healer who doubled as the ship’s chief medic.
The Second Deck offered luxury accommodations for high-ranking dignitaries, featuring ten spacious suites that rivaled two-bedroom city apartments, each outfitted with private bathrooms.
The Third Deck served as the heart of the ship's community, containing one hundred double-occupancy bunk rooms for the crew and standard travelers, alongside communal baths and massive kitchens capable of feeding the entire manifest and livestock alike.
The Fourth Deck pulsed with raw energy. Here, the engineering crew constantly monitored the primary magic formations and sustained the glowing magical cores. The rest of the floor was dedicated to food storage, supplies, and secured cargo holds.
The Well Deck formed the bottom fifth floor, acting as a massive staging area for heavy cargo, livestock, and entire military battalions. A reinforced mechanical gate served as a direct ramp for rapid deployment whenever the behemoth touched down.
Shielded by automated magical barriers that could passively shrug off any spell below the 8th Circle, the fortress only needed to actively defend itself against catastrophic 8th and 9th Circle threats. Yet, such absolute power came with an exorbitant cost. The upkeep of its magical cores was so staggeringly expensive that the duchy only permitted the ship to fly four or five times a year. At its standard cruising speed of two hundred miles per hour, it could cross the continent from the Western Kingdom's coast to the Eastern Wastelands in roughly a month of nonstop flight. It was a masterpiece of design, shared only by the Southern Cross Dukedom, the King's three royal warships, and a single, uniquely decorated elven vessel.
Loki recalled these details from the strict, private tour his wife, Captain Shade Winter, had given him the previous week. Now, he stood on the boarding platform watching the crew load his legendary stallion, Sleipnir, alongside Thorin's warhorse, Brown Sugar, into the lower well deck for their two-day journey south.
Beside him, Thorin leaned against the railing, casting a mischievous glance back at Yin Meng, who quickly looked away with a deep, crimson blush creeping up her neck.
"Luckily that horse of yours didn't knock up my warhorse or I'd be pissed," Thorin chuckled, before his expression turned reflective. "Hey, brother, serious question. Why do you keep finding Eastern women to serve as your maids? Do you just have a specific preference for Chinese and Japanese girls from Earth?"
Thorin wasn’t acting out of malice or prejudice; he was simply a product of his upbringing. Having grown up during the World War II era on Earth, he still carried the historical biases and conditioned skepticism of the Allied Forces.
"Back when I was growing up, television, movies, and media made Asian women incredibly desirable to a lot of American men," Loki replied smoothly, leaning beside his brother. "But in this world, it’s simpler than that. If a woman shows genuine care and loyalty to me, I’ll bring her into my circle.
Besides, she’s not just a maid—she’s my bodyguard if things get dicey."
Thorin, who had previously only paid attention to her sweeping black-and-white maid outfit, blinked in surprise as his eyes traveled down to the sleek Cultivator Longsword sheathed at her hip. A perverted grin stretched across his face. "Have you slept with her yet?"
"Technically, we've shared a bed, but we haven't actually had sex yet because I've been occupied with my wives," Loki answered with a grin, raising his voice just enough to carry. "And you might want to watch your mouth, bro. She’s a 5th Circle cultivator and understands Western Common. She can hear every word you're saying."
Thorin’s salacious grin instantly froze solid. He looked back at Yin Meng, who was meticulously pretending to study the floorboards, acting as if she hadn't heard a thing. Though she could speak the local tongue, her speech carried a thick Eastern accent, and she occasionally misheard nuanced Western phrases. More importantly, she was bound by a conceptual restriction: because exposing Loki's secrets could inadvertently harm Shehuang, she protected her master's vulnerabilities with absolute devotion, even without a formal summons bond. Meanwhile, both Shehuang and Taki Tsuki remained resting within their respective summon worlds—Taki utilizing the quiet space to cultivate toward her absolute ceiling as a 9th Circle Water Mage.
Desperate to break the awkward silence, Thorin offered a stiff, apologetic wave. Yin Meng kept her head lowered, deliberately ignoring him as she maintained her post behind Loki.
Before Thorin could dig himself into a deeper hole, Sylvia and Shade approached, flanked by the face-changing master of disguise himself, Marquess Steven Sky. The moment Thorin spotted the old Duke, his posture instantly corrected. He stood tall, shoulders back, eyes bright with profound respect.
To Thorin, Steven Sky was the pinnacle of an Air Knight—a legendary warrior who had single-handedly defended the northern borders from Cloud Giants and brutal Orc Warbands, while simultaneously repelling Demonic Beast riots from the east.
Knowing exactly how cunning the old fox could be, Loki preempted the conversation with a polite bow. "Father, good morning. I hope you slept well?"
The Marquess's sharp, calculating eyes swept over Loki before softening into a warm, paternal smile. "Son, you look well-rested and ready for your first true adventure." He turned his gaze toward Thorin, booming with laughter as he slammed a heavy hand onto Loki’s shoulder with enough force to crack stone. "And this must be your famous Full Knight brother I've been hearing so much about this past year! It is the ultimate pride of the Northern Sky Duchy to have sired you both."
The aggressive compliment made the vain Thorin puff out his chest like a proud peacock—a metaphor Loki kept to himself, considering the world of Myst lacked peacocks, turkeys, and ostriches entirely.
"Marquess Sky, you flatter me," Thorin said, his voice thick with genuine pride. "I am deeply honored to call myself a Northman." He meant it, too; the harsh, beautiful northern landscape reminded Thorin of his old earthly home, sparing him from the crushing homesickness that frequently plagued Loki's dreams.
Stepping forward with military precision, Shade handed Loki a heavy, metallic key. "Here are your cabin keys, Sir Loki Sky," she said, her voice formal and clipped for the benefit of the surrounding onlookers. "I must return to the bridge to oversee our departure. Safe travels, Sir Thorin Sky."
Marquess Sky watched her walk away, shaking his head with a knowing smirk. "That little girl is absolutely head over heels for you, kid," he whispered to Loki.
Loki offered a quiet nod of agreement, but before he could respond, Sylvia slid her arm through his, leaning her weight against him. "Come with me, Husband," she murmured, casting a meaningful look toward the upper decks. "The airship is lifting off. I want to spend a couple of hours with you before I have to return home."
Loki and Thorin exchanged a bewildered glance. They had both assumed she was staying behind in North Sky City.
Seeing their confusion, the Marquess chuckled. "Don't look so baffled. As long as this floating fortress stays within a one-thousand-mile radius of the city, she can use her spatial magic to teleport back to her room in a single blink."
Loki shook his head in silent awe. Even though they lived in a world fueled by the arcane, the sheer utility of high-level magic never ceased to amaze him. With Sylvia leading the way, they climbed the grand, sweeping walkway toward the open-air top deck, leaving the spires of North Sky City behind.
They weren't alone on the broad deck. A dozen other noble teenagers, ranging from eighteen to nineteen years old, had boarded alongside them to attend the Royal Academy. Most were novice 1st Circle Knights, accompanied by a handful of fresh-faced Mages. Unsurprisingly, Loki and Thorin quickly became the center of attention as the massive engines thrummed to life. The landscape began to blur beneath them, transforming into a sweeping canvas of green and brown as the ship accelerated to its two-hundred-mile-per-hour cruising speed.
"The royal capital is roughly ten thousand miles south," Thorin noted, looking over the side. "At nonstop cruising speed, we’ll be there in just over two days."
Cruising speed was the absolute limit for sustained travel without burning through the ship's reservoir of magical cores. In a true wartime emergency, however, the captain could push the vessel into "Overdrive"—an intensive state that consumed ten times the normal magical energy to propel the massive wooden hull to Mach One, tearing through the sky at over seven hundred and sixty miles per hour. Currently, the invisible atmospheric barrier hummed softly around the deck, neutralizing the devastating oncoming gale and blocking out the shifting weather, leaving the passengers completely undisturbed by the wind or rain.
Sylvia, who had witnessed the grand departure too many times to count, paid no attention to the scenery. Instead, she quietly watched Loki, a soft smile playing on her lips as she admired the raw spark of excitement and freedom dancing in his green eyes.
Standing a respectful distance away, Yin Meng looked out over the passing clouds. "In the Eastern Wastelands, every major sect possesses a grand flying boat identical to this airship," she remarked softly. "Including the Purple Cloud Sword Sect, where I once resided."
Loki’s focus shifted instantly. He knew that specific sect was the very same entity responsible for slaughtering Shehuang’s family. "I didn't realize you were a part of that place," he said, turning to face her. "Are you not a formal Body Cultivator?"
The surrounding noble students, completely ignorant of eastern geography, hushed their chatter and leaned in closer, eager for firsthand lore about the mysterious Eastern Wastelands.
Yin Meng let out a heavy, melancholic sigh. "Master, I am the older sister to their revered Jade Maiden. In truth, I possessed little talent—I could only wield basic aura. My sister, however, was a prodigy, a powerful Metal Mage and an Immortal Cultivator. The Sect Leader claimed her as his Holy Maiden, and she brought me along into the sect purely as a servant disciple."
She paused, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. "The Purple Cloud Sect refused to grant me proper instruction in the Path of the Body Cultivator. Instead, I was subjected to constant cruelty and bullying by the other disciples—all for my sister's twisted amusement. Back then, I was too naive to realize how deeply she hated me. Eventually, Shehuang found me, and I seized the opportunity to desert the sect forever. Tragically... my escape was the catalyst. The sect traced me to Shehuang’s clan and eradicated them entirely to erase the stain on their honor. Politically and indirectly, I am the reason her family died."
Thorin’s jaw clenched tightly, his fists balling up at his sides, while a hot streak of irritation flared in Loki's chest.
"If I ever cross paths with those Purple Cloud bastards in the future," Loki said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low register, "I’ll make sure to settle your grievances alongside Shehuang's. You have my word."
Thorin stepped forward, clapping a heavy hand onto Loki’s shoulder as he saw tears welling in the corners of Yin Meng's eyes. "Haha! Loki and I specialize in breaking the teeth of arrogant bullies," he declared with a boisterous grin. "One day, we’ll take a little brotherhood road trip across the eastern border and tear that sect down brick by brick, right Loki?"
Loki couldn't help but smile at his brother's theatricality. Thorin had always suffered from a bit of a chuunibyou hero complex, and playing the chivalrous savior was his ultimate dream.
Sensing the heavy mood and growing weary of the crowd, Sylvia leaned heavily into Loki’s side, letting out a delicate, fabricated yawn. "Husband, the movement of the ship is making me tired, and I need to rest for the sake of the baby. Let us retire to your private room. I only have a few hours left before I must return to Sky City."
Loki readily agreed, offering a parting nod to his brother. As they turned toward the companionway, the crowd of eager noble students immediately swarmed Thorin, desperate to curry favor with the accomplished Full Knight. Yin Meng fell into step directly behind the couple, standing guard outside the luxury cabin as the heavy wooden door clicked shut.
Once inside, however, Loki quickly realized that Sylvia had absolutely no intention of resting. By the time the thousand-mile threshold arrived and she vanished back to the duchy in a flash of spatial mana, Loki had officially earned his membership in the Mile High Club.
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