The next day, in the early morning hours, we were already climbing the spiral stairs of the high pier to board the zeppelin. It was a lively atmosphere, with people chatting excitedly while queuing on the stairs.
Seeing the crowded stairs, I wondered what Lynx would do and if he would manage to come on board. He had refused to be taken inside as a mount, insisting that all mounts were confined to cages, but he had promised to accompany us. In the worst case, he could travel inside Alice's ring. Lynx was agile enough to avoid stepping on any unstable surfaces, but to him, sneaking aboard incognito was a more interesting challenge.
"We shouldn't worry about him, he'll be there," he had said. I did my best to ignore the creeping fear that he might get into trouble.
Once on board, Alice and the group found a good table near a window that would be ours for the journey. There were no assigned seats on the zeppelin, but there was plenty of space to sit and walk around. Individual cabins were available, but they were more expensive, and we didn't think it was worth booking one.
Curious to explore the ship, I left the group and found a spot on the open deck to observe the frenetic activity as people loaded the ship. I expected more use of spatial items, but there wasn't much. Most spatial items were small, intended for personal use, and moving things in and out required mana manipulation rather than a portal like our ring. The more I learned about spatial items, the more I appreciated the ring, even though it was going to fail soon.
As I stood there observing the activity, a couple of young men approached my position. From their conversation, I understood they were students at a major university in Uldaman, returning to school after a short holiday.
I ignored them, fascinated by the panorama. Soon, the ship finished loading, and after exchanging some signals and sounding a loud horn, it began to move. It felt more like a floating cruiser than an airplane. It was surreal to watch the shadow of the giant ship navigate slowly between skyscrapers while gradually gaining altitude.
Guarava's panorama could easily compete with many modern cities and come out ahead, even though it was relatively small compared to our metropolises, with just over a million people.
As I involuntarily listened to the conversation of the two young men, who seemed knowledgeable about zeppelins, I couldn't resist asking them how the ship moved. There was no obvious propeller, so how did it move?
The boys were eager to explain. I learned that the ship had its own magic circuits that interacted with the planet's magic circuit—similar to using Earth's magnetic field to propel ships. The propulsion power wasn't very strong but was sufficient to accelerate the ship slowly to its cruising speed.
Moreover, I learned that there was no danger of explosion, even though the ship used hydrogen for buoyancy. A magical protective sheen covered the zeppelin's surface, ensuring that even if a fire occurred, it would burn outside the protective layer.
I chatted with them for about half an hour, but as it slowly got colder, even with the magic array protecting the area, I bid them farewell and entered the protected area. I intended to return to Alice and the group, but then I remembered that my ticket granted me access to the first-class deck, courtesy of Mike’s insistence on an upgrade. They would certainly ask me about it, so I went down the stairs to inspect the first class.
Interestingly, the first-class deck wasn't above but on the lowermost floor, featuring numerous crystal glass windows on the sides and sometimes on the floor, providing a fascinating view. One needed a good head for heights to truly enjoy the panorama.
There was also a so-called "gentleman's club," though the English translation didn't quite capture the essence. The Guaravian word "thorhave" encompassed qualities of a gentleman, a fighter, a noble warrior—all rolled into one.
Feeling qualified, I decided to enter. The officer at the entry agreed, nodding at me as I stepped inside.
It was a mix between a bar and a club, with numerous cozy corners where you could sit, talk, read a newspaper or a book, or simply watch the panorama.
I heard a glass shatter on the floor, even though the flight was incredibly steady. I thought it was probably a stressed waiter. I turned and saw a young man hurrying out of the room. He looked like that foolish viscount, but I couldn't be sure.
Before I could ponder it further, a man waved to me from a nearby table in one of the private booths near a panorama window.
"Lady Lores!" he called, standing up and walking closer. "Lady Lores! A pleasure to meet you. Would you do us the honor of joining us at our table?"
As he approached, I recognized him.
"Captain Dorstack?"
I approached him hesitantly as he nodded.
"At your service, my lady!" he said, guiding me towards their table. "I was just explaining to my two travel companions why I'm traveling now for an urgent audience with the Minister of War, and then you walk in! What a coincidence! What better way to explain to them what happened!”
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"I'm not sure I understand?" I wondered aloud.
One of the two 'travel companions' at the table stood up.
“What our captain friend means is that the Minister of War has ordered him to the capital to receive a briefing about a certain incident that you were apparently involved in, young lady!”
“Baron Esterghom,” the captain said, gesturing towards the man who had just spoken, and then pointing at the other gentleman dressed in a long robe, almost like a bathrobe if it weren’t made of satin or some other very expensive, light material. “And Arch-wizard Godain.”
“Lady!” The arch-wizard bowed in my direction.
“Please, have a seat,” the captain said.
As I made myself comfortable, I turned towards him. “I'm really sorry, do I understand correctly that you’re facing consequences because of that blasted incident?”
“Not because of the incident itself, but because of my actions. I alone am responsible for those, so there’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” the captain explained.
“The minister is going to give him a good talking-to. Our friend here is a fan of it and a serial repeater,” the baron laughed.
“So, you’re the hero who faced his whole company?” the arch-wizard said, eyeing me curiously.
“He told us he wasn’t sure he was going to win the fight,” the baron chimed in.
“Ah... well...” I started, but before I could answer, the captain interjected with a tsk.
“We were facing a beast of at least wyvern level, an archer who could shoot supersonic arrows, both backed by a healer at the level of an archbishop and several other unknown entities, like our lady here. So yes, the situation was indeed not pleasant. And it was all caused by a drunk idiot!”
The archwizard huffed. “A beast of wyvern level! An archer comparable to the royal guard’s archers and a healer of archbishop level? Are you sure you’re not exaggerating, captain? Can you confirm this, young lady? What do you say?”
I wasn’t in the mood to confirm or continue the conversation about the incident, but I was surprised at how accurately the captain had assessed our potential.
“I am impressed by how quickly and correctly Captain Dorstack assessed the situation and how swiftly it was resolved. I would have been in a very uncomfortable position if it had come to a fight.”
The baron chuckled. “You call a potential fight with a royal company an uncomfortable situation! That’s one way of putting it, young lady!” He laughed silently for a moment, then continued, “Well, it would have been an unexpected way to start the bloodletting for the Great Culling!”
“The Great Culling?” I asked, looking at the captain. He sighed.
“Please ignore our baron here; he is a pacifist,” he explained, leaving me even more confused. Then, changing the subject, he added, “And what are your plans now in the capital? Are you here to see the festivities for the summer solstice?”
“Well, actually not. I was thinking of presenting the token to the royal court,” I explained.
“Hear, hear!” the archwizard said. “So you want to retire, young lady, just when the drums of war are growing louder?”
I hadn't heard of any incidents suggesting a coming war. Were we making an error trying to settle in the kingdom? I turned to the baron.
“Pardon me, I did not understand. What did you mean by the Great Culling?” Then, turning to the archwizard, “And why do you say that the drums of war are growing louder?”
The captain shook his head. “Young people!” he sighed. “War. They mean war. Have you not seen all the troop movements happening lately? War is brewing!”
“War? Why? Did anyone attack or is someone preparing to attack the kingdom?” I wondered. None of us had heard anything about this in the city yesterday.
The baron rolled his eyes. “Young people indeed! You do know that the long winter is coming, don't you?”
I nodded. “Yes, but?”
“Let me explain,” the baron said. “My barony has five thousand three hundred forty-six souls. We have food stored for six thousand souls for ten years, but not everyone is as fortunate. We’ve had good harvests for several years and excellent storage facilities, but what if this year’s harvest is bad? Then we might be short on food for a year. This should be manageable—over the next eleven years, we could cover the shortfall, or the population might stabilize. But what if there were food only for five hundred people? What would you do then? You’d need to cull your population or face a revolt. And that’s just a small barony. Think of the big cities, the large domains, the dukes, the counts, the marquises. Everyone has their problems. Food can be stolen, lost, or spoiled. And what about our neighbors? Other kingdoms, orc tribes, the empire? Do you think Constancius the vampire has food for all his citizens? He’ll trim the population so that only the necessary resources survive. How? Through war.
“They’ll claim their kingdom was invaded and they need to fight back. He’s not alone. Some count will say orcs attacked his village, others will claim elves want to restore their kingdom, and so on. But the reality is, they have too many people and not enough food. The weak die so the strong can survive. War is coming! That’s what the Great Culling is. It happens every cycle, every forty years, but young people are always surprised when it comes!”
The captain summarized at his turn. “With the long winter, resources will become scarce. The Great Culling refers to the inevitable conflicts that arise as kingdoms and territories vie for what little remains. It’s an age-old cycle—when the cold comes, so does the fighting.”
“Constancius is a vampire?” I wondered aloud.
The archwizard laughed. “That’s what bothers you? It’s a well-known secret. No one in his kingdom is allowed to speak about it, but everyone knows.”
At that moment, I vaguely heard a yell penetrate the room's isolation and saw a body falling past the window. I caught a clear glimpse of the falling figure, and our eyes met for a brief moment. It was Mike. Was it really Mike? Had he just fallen? My magic confirmed it was him, and I reacted instantly, transforming into a shadow and flying outside the ship.