As it always did, the flying giant whale gurgled, sending a wave of vibrations through the vast corridor. It served as a constant reminder that I was aboard a flying fortress rather than just some castle. The hum rippled through the air as I walked toward the deck, which—given the fortress's sheer size—felt more like an expansive front yard.

It was then as I walked around that I spotted who I was looking for. Leaning on the balustrade, her gaze seemed distant, following Veilleuse-19 as it soared alongside the flying whale.

I approached, stealthily.

"Miss traveling with her?" I asked, pouncing on her from behind. My sudden arrival startled her, and her reaction made me shake my head in disappointment. "Tsk, tsk. Here I was thinking I’d taught you to always be aware of your surroundings. Seems all my efforts were in vain."

Aquaflora tried to defend herself but faltered, resorting instead to a counterattack. "You’ve never taught me anything about that! You’ve only ever thrown monsters at me and expected me to defeat them."

I chuckled, conceding her point. "Alright, I suppose that’s true," I admitted, though I still felt it didn’t excuse her lack of awareness. I decided to let it slide. "What were you doing?"

"Me? I suppose I was… watching your Red Wyvern flying."

I arched an eyebrow. "Let me rephrase that: What were you thinking about? Missing the Argyrian capital already?"

It had been over a month since her coronation as Elven Queen Aquaflora, monarch of the Lunor elves of Quel'thalas. It was not just a title in name, either; since her coronation, she had earned the actual title of monarch through the system after manifesting her ancestral tree with the wood elemental sub-affinity, officially making her a bona fide matriarch. Though compared to other elven monarchs she was still considered small fries, her reserves of energy as monarch—stolen from the Argyrian Patriarch—were nothing to scoff at.

"Missing the capital, huh?" she echoed in a tone far from enthusiastic. "No."

"No? That doesn’t sound like something a monarch leaving her people behind would say. That sounds more like the girl who traded her ancestral tree for her freedom speaking."

She chuckled softly. "Well, you’re still talking to that same girl."

"What makes you say that? From my point of view, you’re no longer that same girl. You have no patriarch to trade your ancestral tree for freedom. You’ve become an elven monarch yourself. That’s a big upgrade, I’d say."

"I know," she said hesitantly. "Things have changed… for the better." She glanced at me briefly before continuing. "But I can’t help but feel like not much has changed. It’s as though someone just took over the role that was once his."

I frowned. "Are you insinuating that I’m a tyrant?"

"Are you claiming you’re not?"

"Obviously. I’m a lot of things, but a tyrant—"

Aquaflora grimaced.

"Okay, maybe there was a bit of tyranny, but it was for a good cause."

"You tell me."

"It was. Through that little bit of tyranny, we put you in power. You can do good things that will forever wash away those terrible moments from their memories."

"I’ve thought about that, too," she admitted. "But—"

"But nothing," I interjected firmly. "You took over the Argyrian capital for, what, two months at best? It’s normal that not much has changed. Our goal wasn’t to upend everything—it was to fix a problem and secure something useful for later. And we did both."

Aquaflora fell silent, seemingly mulling over my words. After a moment, she added, "Maybe my nudging—forceful as it can sometimes be—makes it feel like we’re on different sides. But I’d like to remind you why we began this journey together."

"To defeat the Argyrian Patriarch," she said.

I nodded. "Once that’s done, perhaps—no, surely—we’ll think of ways to better the lives of your Argyrian subjects. In fact, we can start now. Tell me, what do you want? What does the Queen want?"

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

She sighed. "Don’t tease me like that, or I’ll start calling you Queen Arianna too."

"I wouldn’t mind that."

"Sigh… why is it always a lost battle against you?"

"What do you want?" I repeated.

Aquaflora pondered the question for a moment before finally saying, "I think I’d like the capital to be more open with nearby villages."

"As in trades?"

"Yes, but not just that. Back when I lived in the villages, children would often ask questions about the capital. But, as their parents requested, I had to describe it as a terrible place. While it has always felt monotonous, it wasn’t a terrible place. It’s just that if they went there—"

"They’d be bound in chains by the Patriarch?"

She nodded.

"Well, then you can do that. Nothing’s stopping you. Certainly not me, even if you somehow think I would."

"Please stop teasing me," she said with an exasperated laugh. "I get it. I’m not insinuating that you’re a terrible person anymore—even though…"

"Even though?"

"Just forget about it."

"Alright," I said, waving at Veilleuse-19 as it flew by. As the wyvern disappeared into the clouds, I added, "I almost forgot why I was looking for you. Wanna come inside? Everyone’s having fun, and you’ve been nowhere to be found."

Goblin, thrilled to finally leave behind the stagnant monotony, had organized a sort of party as soon as we set sail for our next destination.

"I think I prefer it sober," Aquaflora said.

"I do too," I admitted. "But now’s the time to let go. We’ve all earned it, especially you. Let’s see this as a proper party for your coronation."

She still looked hesitant, so I linked arms with her and literally dragged her along. "Much more terrible times is waiting for us; we’d better enjoy things while we still can."

Aquaflora tried to free herself but quickly gave up. Matriarch or not, she was no match for my strength. I dragged her into the ongoing festivities, where the scene before us was… lively, to say the least. Honey was on top of a table, singing with a bottle in hand as though it were a microphone. Goblin, in his male form, was on the same table, performing what I could only describe as "twerking". Meanwhile, Bortz and Blondie, equally deep into their cups, were cuddling and applauding the spectacle.

"Honey! Look who’s finally joining us—our Queens!" the deeply inebriated Honey called out.

"Erm... I think you got the name wrong. I’m Goblin, and you’re Honey," Goblin corrected, ending the show. "But yes, you’re right, Honey." He turned to an attendant and motioned for drinks. "Someone bring something for the true One and Only Empress of the land of men—Arianna—and her weird-haired friend, Aquaflora!"

***

Just like that, a few days went by. During those days, we left the Argyrian corner of Quel’thalas and arrived at a place very familiar to us—the vicinity of Mistwood Arbor village.

“Goddess, my head,” Licht moaned beside me on the deck.

“Is it that terrible?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, gagging as if repressing something from coming up. “It’s unfair how you, Goblin, and Bortz are completely fine after what happened yesterday.”

Don’t wish your misery upon me, buddy. I chuckled internally at his plight. Seeing how miserable he looked with his hangover, I couldn’t help but feel a little pity. “You should go ask Aquaflora to detoxify you. She has healing skills. But really, you need to level up your poison and ailment resistance skills,” I teased.

Being as high level as he was, it would normally be a conventionally difficult task for someone like Licht to get drunk. With or without those resistance skills, the system naturally raises a person’s resistance silently. But here’s the thing—it’s not impossible. Proof of that was Licht, who had done what was necessary to make it happen and was now facing the consequences.

“Huh? You were saying something? Ah... yeah, yeah.”

Catching movement in the corner of my vision, I added, “You’re in luck. Medication is coming your way.”

At my words, Licht turned to see Aquaflora approaching. She didn’t look entirely fine herself, but she was far less green than Licht.

“If it isn’t our Oriental Diva honoring us with her presence,” Licht remarked.

“Oriental... Diva?” Aquaflora asked, genuinely confused.

“Come on, don’t tell me you forgot what you did yesterday?”

“What did I do?”

Smiling, I answered, “Never mind. More urgently, could you detoxify my friend over here?”

“You too?” she asked, to which Licht immediately nodded, bringing about an even more miserable reaction.

Seeing this, Aquaflora wasted no time. She approached, placed her hand on his shoulder, and activated her skill.

A vital greenish surge emanated from her palm pressed against his back, flowing through his entire body. It pulsed again and again, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.

After a long minute, the green pallor on Licht’s face slowly faded, replaced by healthier tones.

“That’s the maximum I can heal someone your level. It’s been the same with Blondie. How are you feeling?” Aquaflora asked.

“I still feel it, but I’m much better now. Thanks,” Licht said, his gratitude genuine.

“That’s good,” I replied before Aquaflora could. “Because I’m going to need you all in full cognitive capacity,” I added, pointing ahead.

Considering the distance, it took a few minutes for the sight to become visible to the others. Ahead of us, three distinct giant masses loomed. The first was a massive verdant shape that could easily be mistaken for a mountain, covered in lush greenery. On closer inspection, it was clear it wasn’t just green moss but an actual forest of trees. Staring harder, it became obvious that it wasn’t a mountain at all but a living, mythical beast. It reminded me of the drake I once slew along with the stampede of monsters that came for the Umbryan capital. Except this one was in a league of its own, both in size and, clearly, in strength. It lay prone, as if waiting, but upon hearing the screech of Veilleuse-19 and the horn-like noise from the giant white whale we rode, it turned toward us.

The second mass was a flying fortress. Unlike the one we were riding, which rested on the back of a whale, this fortress hovered high in the sky, defying gravity itself.

The third mass ahead was an all-too-familiar sight. It was none other than the Umbryan Patriarch’s personal familiar. Like the floating fortress and the giant tree-covered drake, they all belonged to the other elven monarch we were meant to meet.