'Spatial Distortion'

'Spatial Distortion'

Meanwhile.

High above the distant horizon, a warship hovered among the clouds, rising and falling continuously as if swimming through a sea of clouds.

In the warship's main bridge, the mastermind behind the rebellion sat in the captain's seat at the center, bare-chested as he received bandages.

"Please be sure not to tug at the wound."

As Gretan bandaged Edmund's upper body, he watched the blood continuously seep through the wrappings and warned him gravely.

"His Highness's injuries are worse than they appear. A little rough bandaging won't provide effective treatment, and the army has already been wiped out. There is no one here who can use healing magic. If we aren't careful, his injuries may worsen, so please be cautious."

Gretan advised Edmund thus, while Sheffield stood expressionlessly at his side.

Faced with Gretan's warning, Edmund seemed somewhat unconcerned.

"Consider these injuries a necessary expense before ascending the throne and standing at the pinnacle of the world."

Edmund paid no attention to the wounds on his body. Although blood still seeped through the bandages wrapped around his upper body, he showed no pain whatsoever. Instead, he corrected Gretan.

"Also, I'm not His Highness. I'm His Majesty."

Edmund made the correction as a matter of course.

This meant Edmund already regarded the British throne as his own.

Given the current circumstances, however, it could not be called arrogance.

"Open your eyes, Daedalus."

Edmund issued the order from within the bridge.

"Clang!"

At once, the walls and ceiling of the bridge became transparent, displaying the scene outside the ship.

"Is this magic?" Gretan was startled, but immediately shook his head. "No, this shouldn't be the effect of Daedalus's Magic Circuits. It should be a sensory ability produced by the 'Eve's Heart' inside Daedalus, right?"

Gretan stated this with absolute