Three days later, at the temporary Floating Ship Port of the Ninth Legion's main camp east of Darrow City, Ninth Legion Deputy Marshal Leonas waited with several generals for the Negotiation Team's arrival.
Standing to the right, Pragorn watched the usually rigid and solemn Leonas occasionally reveal a faint smile, and he could not help recalling a "story" circulating among the upper ranks of the church.
"It is said that Seraphina, the daughter of Archbishop Cyrus, is very close to the Left Canon's only son. If Archbishop Cyrus had not used the excuse that his daughter had not truly grown up yet, the Left Canon would already have three grandchildren."
Recalling the renowned name of the Negotiation Team's leader, Pragorn was basically certain that this was not a "story," but the truth.
The waters run deep indeed!
After sighing inwardly, Pragorn stopped letting his imagination run wild and calmly waited for the Negotiation Team's arrival.
Some things were fine to know, and fine to speculate about in private, but they absolutely could not let others find out. Otherwise, they would truly be in for it.
He only had a hundred years left until retirement. He did not want any unexpected twists along the way that would see him banished to build the New World.
In the sky, the clouds parted as three Kilometer-class Floating Battleships slowly descended.
At the Floating Ship Port, more than three thousand warriors wore silver armor. The silver emblems on their chests glimmered in the light, every face taut, their gazes fixed straight ahead.
As soldiers of the Ninth Legion, they could not bring shame upon their marshal.
Under the watchful eyes of the many generals, the three Floating Ships slowly landed.
At the bow, a young woman in a white formal dress swept her gaze