Chapter 11
When the examination was finished, Yuki and the others offered to show him around the palace grounds.
They stepped out of the main residence and followed a covered walkway. Their first stop was the library.
Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, rising high enough that even the Dracoserpens had to crane their necks to see the upper rows. The stacks reached nearly two stories, with ladders set against them. Leather-wrapped scrolls and thick, metal-bound volumes were arranged with meticulous care.
Beyond it lay a connected study hall. Celestial charts covered the walls, and several Dracoserpens sat on cushions on the floor, gathered around star maps in discussion.
What drew Ando’s eye, however, was the great map spread across one corner of the room.
It showed the entire continent in striking detail.
Mountain ranges were shaded to capture the rise and fall of each peak. Rivers traced their paths with remarkable accuracy, widening and narrowing as they ran, their branches and confluences carefully marked. The coastline was rendered down to the shape of every inlet, with arrows stretching out to sea to show the currents.
Imresia was there as well.
The capital. The crater of Mount Agnia. Trade routes stretching in all directions. Even the bend of a valley he had passed through during drills was marked with exacting precision.
Ando forgot to breathe as he stared.
In Imresia, maps were used as well—essential for both war and defense.
Even the Royal Guard, whose foremost duty was the protection of the capital, relied on them. But those maps focused mainly on roads, towns, and the forts held by the various knightly companies. Mountains and forests were little more than symbols—rough sketches drawn from what could be gathered on foot.
“…I’ve never seen a map this precise.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Ko gave a faint smile.
“We fly.”
That was all he said, smoothing the slightly curled edge of the map.
—Of course.
This was a map drawn from the sky.
From above, the land revealed itself as a single, unbroken whole. The sweep of the ridgelines, the deep folds of the valleys, even the vast wetlands where few ever set foot—nothing was left uncertain.
Passes through the mountains. The true course and depth of rivers. The direction of ocean currents.
Ando felt his pulse quicken.
Strategy. Trade. Defense—
If this knowledge could be brought back to Imresia, how much might change?
Kiba let out a small, amused breath as he noticed Ando’s fixation.
“You can study it all you like later. Come on.”
“This way,” Yuki called, already heading down the corridor.
They were led to a structure stretched far beyond the main residence—the Mews, a vast enclosure for the Steedraptors, thick with the scent of feathers and dry timber.
There was no true roof. Massive pillars had been driven deep into the earth, supporting a heavy mesh spread high overhead.
Towering trees rose from the ground untouched, left in their natural state. Several Raptors moved freely among the branches, spreading their wings as they leapt from tree to tree with effortless grace, and still the enclosure felt enormous.
Between the pillars, heavy logs had been set like beams, left rough and unshaped, each varying in thickness and texture.
Perches were arranged at different heights in layered tiers, spaced to allow short glides between them. Fold, leap, spread—the motion flowed naturally, without strain.
Sunlit areas and shaded spaces were clearly defined, allowing the Raptors to choose where to rest.
In one corner sat a shallow basin of water.
What caught Ando’s attention most, however, was how they were fed.
Large cuts of meat were laid out whole. One of the birds pinned its meal beneath its talons and tore into it with its beak.
Strips of leather and pieces of wood hung from above—simple fixtures meant to let them work off their instincts.
As he walked, Ando took it all in with a practiced eye.
The height of the perches. The spacing. The slope of the drainage.
Imresia’s own Steedraptors needed this.
The beams would have to be raised higher. The perches layered. Airflow carefully planned—yet designed to retain enough warmth to endure Imresia’s winters.
He would have to design something suited to them.
Yuki leaned in, peering at his face.
“You’ve got that look again—like a craftsman sizing things up.”
Ando blinked, coming back to himself, and cleared his throat.
“…My apologies. I was merely struck by how much there is to learn.”
Despite his composed tone, his pulse had yet to settle.
Beyond the enclosure lay the beach.
It stretched wide and open, nothing to obstruct it. Wind from the sea stirred the mesh, setting it trembling faintly.
High above, figures in draconic form wheeled through the sky, their long bodies bending like whips.
On the sand below, a Dracoserpens in upright form had just mounted a Steedraptor.
The creature spread its wings.
With a surge of sand, it skimmed out over the sea, caught an updraft, and climbed sharply into the air.
It almost looked like play. Laughter carried on the wind.
Yet every movement was precise, without waste.
As one of the Dracoserpens overhead began its descent, several mounted riders moved at once, circling into its blind spots.
At the last moment, the dragon twisted sharply, nearly stalling before reversing course and slipping free.
Cheers rose from the riders. The steedraptors cried out as well, their voices bright with energy.
When they returned from the beach to the main residence, Yuki led them along a different corridor this time, heading deeper inside with a light, eager stride.
A rich smell drifted toward them.
Sweet-simmered sauce, the smoky char of grilled fish, and the rising steam of broth blended in the air, setting the stomach on edge with hunger.
“This is the kitchen. We usually eat out in the garden. If it rains, we move to the great hall over there. Oh—let me grab a taste of lunch.”
Inside, a broad earthen floor stretched before them, lined with large hearths where copper pots boiled and steamed.
Long tables were laid out with chopped vegetables, filleted fish, and bundles of fresh herbs. Shelves built into the walls were packed with jars of seasonings.
Several Dracoserpens worked with practiced ease.
Then one of them spotted Yuki.
“Yuki’s back!”
At that single cry, the atmosphere snapped.
Ando braced himself for another round of enthusiastic greetings—
—but instead, the kitchen moved.
Lids clapped onto pots. Dishes vanished. Skewers were whisked away out of sight.
In moments, the entire room locked into a tight defensive line, moving with the speed and precision of a drilled unit.
Yuki’s eyes flew wide. Throwing her arms out, she protested to the head cook.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is how you welcome your Empress home?”
“Quiet, you glutton. Pull that ‘just a taste’ stunt again and empty a pot, and you’ll be going three days without meals.”
So she really had done that before.
The memory of their camp at Mount Agnia flashed through Ando’s mind, and he quickly covered his mouth, turning away.
In the end, Kiba all but dragged Yuki out of the kitchen.
“Fine, fine—just make mine extra big!”
Still grumbling, she led them on.
Their next stop was the bathhouse.
It made even Hokurin’s communal baths feel modest. The pool was large enough to pass for a pond—resting a hand on the edge, the far side seemed a long way off. Hot water poured steadily in from one side, sending gentle ripples across the surface as light shimmered over it.
A wide opening faced the sea, with steps leading straight down to the shore. The ocean breeze flowed in freely, carrying the steam upward into the open air.
“…One could truly swim in this.”
The words slipped from Ando before he could stop them.
Yuki straightened, visibly pleased.
“Told you. Our baths are open all day, every day—so use them whenever you like.”
Ando stood there, taking it all in.
The abundance of this land was almost staggering.
The sea and the sun gave without measure.
If even a part of that could be brought to Imresia, how much easier life might be for its people.
The thought took hold and would not fade.
