High above, the silver fleet and Modesti's army of dragon beasts were locked in a fierce battle. Explosions and flames stretched on without end, licking through the clouds, while roars shook heaven and earth. To Rune below, the scene was no different from the arrival of doomsday.
After hearing the Buga people instructor's question, Zeka paced twice across the deck of the captain's cabin. Firelight pierced the portholes and reflected across the young captain's face. He frowned slightly, hesitated for a moment, and finally gave the order: "Execute the order!"
Silver Robe Mage Wolmi stood to one side with his hands clasped behind his back, carefully studying his Eluin student. His silver eyes flickered faintly beneath his thick brows as he said, "As far as I know, your lord has no experience commanding a fleet in battle. In fact, he is not even from the navy. You have reason to reject his order. You understand better than he does how to use these aerial behemoths to seize victory. Your textbooks tell you that a qualified commander should win glory for his lord, not obey orders blindly—but your eyes tell me that you have not lost your reason. You are still young, not yet old enough to lose your sharpness. I am curious about your choice."
"Because I want to see what he can do." Zeka went to the porthole and gazed through the crystal at the battles raging across the sky. A beautiful silver arc was slowly retreating, leaving a broad gap in the center of the battlefield. Those gaps might give the dragon beasts lethal room to climb, turning the battle into a rout.
Yet the former's expression remained as calm as ever, without the slightest trace of worry—
He came from the local aristocracy of Kolkova, which maintained