After the meal, Grace bid farewell to Ata and Bak, then headed straight for the airship terminal with Mushiyu. She’d wrapped the sword tightly in white cloth, hiding all its distinctive features. Wearing a mask and plain linen clothes, she guided Mushiyu through the bustling streets like any ordinary pair of sisters—if one ignored Mushiyu’s lotus-fresh beauty that drew lingering stares.
Truth was, Mushiyu’s face did attract attention. From what little she’d gathered these past days, this world leaned closer to ancient Europe on Earth—just like *Heavenly Wonder Continent*’s tagline promised: "Epic Western Fantasy." Even with her post-reincarnation features altered, Mushiyu still had distinctly Asian features. Walking openly like this? Naturally, eyes followed.
—Or so Mushiyu thought.
In reality, this world was far more diverse than she imagined. Earlier, a minotaur had brushed past them without causing a stir. Mushiyu had glanced twice at the towering figure—nearly two meters tall, covered in white fur, beard braided into thick strands down his chest. His hunched upper body, non-human joint structure, and bulging muscles framed the massive axe strapped to his back.
The minotaur caught her staring. He turned, glared. Mushiyu flinched away. He snorted and lumbered off.
She shrank back, quickening her steps to match Grace’s pace. The architecture, clothing, and strange vehicles felt familiar—just like the game. But the lingering scents of passersby, the subtle shifts in facial expressions, every visible strand of hair whispered one truth: this was real. Not a game.
Or was it? Who could say what was real? Maybe she hadn’t crossed worlds at all—just slipped into this game, becoming an NPC. If she couldn’t return... living here forever wouldn’t be so bad. Swords and sorcery held their charm, after all.
Lost in daydreams of casting dazzling spells, she bumped into Grace’s back. She opened her mouth to ask why they’d stopped—then snapped it shut.
Soldiers. Rows of them patrolling. Ahead, a queue snaked toward a window marked "Airship Tickets." Beyond it, the landscape ended abruptly—as if cleaved by a giant axe—leaving only a narrow boarding bridge stretching into emptiness. Then, from the horizon, a vast "curtain" rose. Slowly, it resolved into a white ellipsoid. When it fully cleared the horizon, Mushiyu realized: it was a balloon. Beneath it hung a cabin. Judging by the bridge’s scale, its floor spanned roughly a football field. Three tiers of windows dotted its sides.
"Incredible..." Mushiyu breathed as the airship hovered steadily beside the bridge.
This was their destination. But boarding wouldn’t be simple.
Every passenger in line carried luggage. At the checkpoint, soldiers forcibly inspected belongings and compared faces against a list—as if hunting someone. Only after thorough checks did they step aside.
*Is Grace afraid they’ll stop her?*
Mushiyu glanced up. Grace’s brow was furrowed, eyes grave. Remembering how she’d hidden her identity since meeting Ata, Mushiyu wondered: *What is she hiding from?*
The forest battle must be connected. Grace clearly opposed Melissara—or the dragon-slaying squad. But who were the attackers? What ties did they have to these soldiers? Mushiyu had no answers.
Since this was Suxi City, heart of the Central Empire, these soldiers represented imperial authority. Had the empire learned of last night’s ambush? Unlikely—it’d only been hours. Unless they used spirit-stone communicators... but would attackers neglect anti-scrying wards?
Before Mushiyu could untangle her thoughts, Grace spun on her heel, pulling her away.
"What’s wrong?" Mushiyu whispered.
"Blocked. We take another route." No explanation.
Mushiyu stole a last look at the soldiers. She held her questions—but filed the moment away. Later, she’d demand answers.
Grace didn’t retrace their steps. She strode down a side street without hesitation, gaze fixed ahead—already certain of her next move. Mushiyu studied her profile.
"What is it?" Grace asked, sensing her stare.
"Did you plan two routes in advance? Or improvise?" Mushiyu’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Always have a backup."
Though masked, Grace’s crinkled eyes betrayed a smile—warm, assured, like a steady elder. Mushiyu’s faint anxiety dissolved like mist in sunlight. A small smile touched her own lips. "You’re really reliable."
A blush bloomed beneath Grace’s mask. "Your praise honors me."
Fate rarely cooperated. Ahead loomed a different city gate—and another cluster of soldiers gripping spears and halberds. Grace halted, her expression darkening.
Mushiyu stretched on tiptoes. Through the crowd, she spotted a towering white figure.
—the minotaur who’d glared at her earlier.
