The Wind Heron naturally generated a protective barrier during flight, so the passengers felt no wind at all.
As time passed, Kent watched the mountains below gradually shrink until they gave way to vast, flat plains.
The plains were still lush and green, dotted with busy farmers and occasional cities passing beneath them.
Before leaving, Kent had wanted to find Niu Niu—but it turned out she had already retreated to the pet space.
She had instructed Kent to tell Tori to bring Little Qing to the Mage Guild headquarters later.
Kent relayed the message to Tori, who was absolutely ecstatic at the prospect.
Kent could well imagine why: having a five-rank wind wolf out in front of you when you traveled was enough to make even the boldest bandit think twice about blocking your path.
The city lord of Harri City was in an excellent mood that day.
He had finally won over his wife’s handmaiden the night before, which meant he’d stayed up quite late and only risen around noon.
While sipping his milk, he ordered the kitchen to prepare something nourishing—he was planning another round with the handmaiden tonight.
Just thinking about her soft cries made him impatient for sunset.
“My lord!
My lord!
Terrible news!” The butler, completely devoid of his usual gentlemanly composure, burst into the study with a face as pale as death.
The city lord frowned in displeasure, his expression darkening.
“What is it that can’t wait for you to knock?”
“My lord, it’s over!
A gold-rank mage just came from the Grand Mage Guild to pick up some mage here!” the butler gasped out.
The city lord jumped to his feet, excitement flashing across his face.
“Where is he?
Hurry—prepare a lavish gift.
I must pay my respects!”
“My lord, it’s too late.
They’ve already left.
Apparently, one of their mages was attacked by bandits here, so they came personally,” the butler finally managed to finish.
The city lord froze on the spot, his face cycling through shades of red and white.
After a long silence, he roared, “Prepare five thousand gold coins at once!
Go ask Master Toya what’s going on!
And mobilize every soldier in the city—I want those cursed bandits found!”
“My lord, I’ve already inquired.
It seems the Grand Mage Guild has already pressured the Thieves’ Guild.
Word is, two Sky Knights from Resh City are already on their way to the scene of the incident, along with two mages and their entourages,” the butler reported.
“Sky Knights?
Those are seventh-rank knights!
And mages with their followers!
My God—what kind of bandit band could trigger this?
They could annihilate an entire city!” the city lord muttered to himself in utter disbelief.
The butler hesitated, then asked meekly, “My lord, shall we prepare supplies for these esteemed guests?”
“Yes!
Don’t just stand there—go!
Bring out everything good from the storeroom!
And send some to the capital as well!” the city lord bellowed.
Then he collapsed into his chair, utterly drained.
Thanks to the guard captain’s failure to report the mage’s arrival, the city lord was about to be bled dry.
“Lord Toris, aren’t we going to Resh City?” Kent felt his arm being nudged and saw Alice signaling him with her eyes.
He stepped forward and asked the old man timidly.
The old man’s name was Toris—no one dared ask his full name.
Toris looked at Kent and his two companions, then shook his head.
“No need.
Too much trouble—everyone wanting to meet you, everyone wanting to see you.
Besides, Resh City to Alliance City is only two hours longer anyway.”
Kent was staggered.
This world was truly vast.
He estimated they’d already been flying for over an hour, at speeds rivaling an airplane.
The Resh Duchy bordered the imperial capital’s direct territory—meaning once they crossed the duchy’s border, they’d be in Alliance City’s jurisdiction.
The whole trip would take roughly three hours, putting the straight-line distance from Harri City to Alliance City at nearly two thousand kilometers.
Kent felt the Wind Heron was faster than an airplane, definitely faster than any flight he’d ever taken back on Earth.
Meanwhile, the scar-faced bandit leader stared at the sky in despair.
Two flying figures soared above, and on the ground, warriors and archers were closing in—any one of them could wipe out his entire band of twenty-odd men.
The ground forces all possessed battle aura, and the ones in the air were the legendary Sky Knights.
The moment the rat-faced leader discovered Kent’s group had escaped, he knew they were doomed.
He led his men rushing back to the town, but the scene there made everyone’s blood run cold.
Looking at the frozen, severed body parts, the bandit leader felt true fear for the first time.
He fled without looking back, riding his horse until it dropped dead—but they still caught up to him.
“We surrender!
I’ll tell you who hired me!” The scar-faced leader threw down his weapon and shouted at the top of his lungs.
But his answer was a barrage of arrows and the sound of his men collapsing behind him.
A moment later, to his shock and relief, he discovered he was still alive.
Alliance City sat at the heart of the world-famous Harvest Plains, a region blessed with a pleasant climate and abundant rainfall—the continent’s greatest breadbasket.
The plains were staggeringly vast, encompassing the Imperial Direct Province, most of the Resh Duchy, most of the Lulia Duchy, most of the Lia Duchy, the Dam Duchy, the Jinyuan Duchy, most of the Daxi Duchy, and most of the Jersey Duchy—together constituting a full half of the Alliance Empire’s territory.
When Kent’s party had passed through the Resh Duchy, they had set off alarm bells in several small cities.
But here in the Imperial Direct Province—a single province, though its area was more than twice that of the Resh Duchy—the response was different.
As they flew high overhead, Kent could clearly see pedestrians on the roads below doffing their hats in salute, and the closer they drew to Alliance City, the more frequent the gestures became.
From a distance, Kent spotted a dark line on the horizon and assumed it was a mountain range.
Yet as they drew closer, he realized with astonishment that it was a colossal city.
From above, the city walls bristled with blades and spears, resembling a massive military camp.
A vast moat surrounded the fortifications, and entering the city required crossing two successive drawbridges.
The walls stood roughly fifty meters high, punctuated at regular intervals by massive towers that rose even higher.
Along the top of the walls, Kent could see wagons and carriages moving to and fro.
In the far distance, he glimpsed an inner city with walls even taller and grander, its streets broad and lined with towering buildings.
Kent could see numerous structures seven or eight stories tall.
The Grand Mage Guild was situated at the edge of the inner city, housed in a colossal nine-story edifice that occupied no less than a thousand acres.
Behind it stood several famous mage towers, where mages of the seventh rank and above—those qualified to establish their own schools and lineages—made their homes.
The Wind Heron landed on the rooftop of the nine-story building.
The space was enormous, nearly half a football field in size, surrounded by numerous metal pillars emanating a terrifying magical fluctuation that Kent could sense clearly—clearly magical weapons of some kind.
What stunned him most, though, was the building material itself: obsidian.
It was an alchemical material, both incredibly hard and magically receptive, found only in the Magical Beast Forest.
“You two, take Kent’s companions to rest.
Kent, you come with me,” Toris said after they stepped through a legendary magical teleportation array.
Kent felt only a brief blur before the world reshaped into a room guarded by four armored knights.
They showed no reaction to Kent’s arrival, and he wisely kept his eyes lowered.
Walking a short distance further, Toris turned and issued orders to the two silver mages behind them.
They bowed and led Delis and Alice away.
As Delis departed, she glanced back at Kent, who offered her a reassuring smile.
Toris brought Kent to an ancient, austere door adorned with intricate silver patterns—clearly a magical formation of some kind.
Toris pushed it open with practiced ease, and Kent followed him inside.
Within was a circular hall, ringed with tables and chairs.
A dozen or so men sat scattered among them, with dozens more seats empty.
All eyes turned to Kent—some curious, some indifferent, and some who merely glanced at him before murmuring among themselves.
“Where’s Askara?” Toris scanned the hall, raised his voice, and demanded loudly.
Kent noticed that Toris had removed his magic badge before entering the hall, and that everyone else here wore simple robes without any visible badges.
This meant everyone present was a ninth-rank gold mage.
Kent swallowed hard.
These seats weren’t placed here for decoration—that meant the Grand Mage Guild alone boasted several dozen gold-rank mages.
Kent finally understood why the Mage Guild was called the continent’s foremost power.
And it made him doubt Niu Niu’s claim that there were only 1,500 mages across the entire continent.
The way this looked, that number might be the annual birth rate instead.