Miaomiao, seated with a paw planted elegantly, gave a graceful bow.
[Greetings, humans. I hear you've pledged yourselves to Michael. May that vow never waver. Because if it does—]
Her eyes flashed, and with a hiss, she extended her claws and raked them through the air with a shriek that sounded like tearing fabric.
The duchess instinctively stepped back, trembling. She was overwhelmed by the primal fear exuded by Miaomiao, who now bared her fangs and growled softly.
Seeing his mother recoil, Pavel stepped forward and bowed with a hand over his heart.
"I would never break that vow. Lady Nephertari, I swear it—by every god in this world, by my own life, and by the lives of my family here."
Miaomiao finally relaxed, though the alert gleam in her eyes remained. In a world where divine oaths still held power, such a vow carried real weight—but madmen existed even in such a world.
Miaomiao then lowered herself fully to the ground.
[You may ride upon me.]
The duchess hesitated. She looked at the enormous, divine beast and once again felt fear rise within her. But there was no other option.
Gripping her daughters' hands tightly, she took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Michael turned to Pavel.
"For now, we'll head to a nearby vacant castle. From there, you'll switch to another mount and proceed to Crassus territory. Sancho will guide you."
Eyes misty with emotion, Sancho pounded a fist against his chest.
"I swear to protect Lord Pavel, my lady, and the young misses—no matter what!"
Pavel placed a grateful hand on Sancho's shoulder.
"Thank you, Sancho. With your talent, you'd have flourished even without our help… I truly appreciate you."
But Sancho shook his head with conviction.
"That's not true. Without your support, I would've lived and died a nameless commoner. I carry your kindness deep in my bones."
Pavel said nothing—he only patted Sancho's shoulder again.
Even the duchess, who once disapproved of her son associating with lowborns, lifted the hem of her dress and offered her thanks.
"To think you'd come to our aid, remembering such a small kindness… I'm deeply grateful."
The two young girls, following their mother's example, offered polite bows. Sancho smiled gently at them.
Watching this sentimental display, Miaomiao sighed dramatically.
[Enough chit-chat! Get on already! Michael and I are very busy people.]
"Yes, girls—go on. Climb aboard," the duchess said with a shaky voice.
One by one, she helped her daughters onto Miaomiao's back, then mounted herself. Though nervous at first, the sensation of Miaomiao's warm, soft, yet powerful fur under her hands brought a surprising sense of comfort. The saddle had already been set up, making it easier to sit securely.
From atop the Sphinx, Pavel looked back at the territory he once called home. The familiar castle, the forest, and the river—all slowly receded from view.
Will my descendants one day reclaim this land? No… better not to cling to such things. It's enough to live happily somewhere new.
Michael, unaware of Pavel's thoughts, was already absorbed in his own.
The rebellion of House Rochester and the Northwestern lords was no longer on his mind. He was far more preoccupied with what lay ahead—the continental power shift that would follow the absence of Charles V.
If only this had happened after the Pamir Empire had further destabilized… that would've been ideal. What a missed opportunity…
After suppressing the commotion on the Northwestern planet, Michael set out on a journey with Marcus and Miaomiao. His goal was to give the Drake Pirates more freedom to operate and increase their activity.
"Why on earth are we here, Michael? The air feels strangely heavy and sticky. It smells salty too. Are you low on cows and sheep, so we have to catch fish to eat now?"
Marcus stretched his neck forward and questioned Michael, his large eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Michael replied with a slightly hesitant tone.
"Hmm… it might be a bit complicated for you to understand. Do you remember the Glorious Holy Kingdom?"
Marcus gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes, pretending to unsheathe his claws.
"Of course I remember! Those bastards lured me out of the mountains and did unspeakable things to my wings. Wait, don't tell me—they're here too?"
As Marcus whipped his head around and swung his tail nervously, Michael tried to calm him down. A Grade 1 Magical Beast was still a Grade 1 Magical Beast. Even if Marcus had fallen short of becoming a true dragon due to a lack of lineage, his grudges were as long-lasting as ever.
"Calm down, Marcus. There's no need to get worked up just yet. Do you remember the pirate crew we picked up before?"
Marcus furrowed his brow in deep thought. The memory was vague—he felt like he should remember something, but nothing clear surfaced.
Miaomiao, watching him with disappointment, smacked Marcus on the head.
"Ugh, you idiot hatchling. If it's not about food or revenge, you just forget everything, huh?"
Marcus whimpered defensively.
"That's not true, sis. I'm just big—it's hard to tell those tiny humans apart."
"Lies! Don't think I don't know how sharp a dragon's eyesight is!"
Enraged by his excuses, Miaomiao began scratching at his scales with her claws. Marcus, who was flying through the sky and couldn't retaliate, burst into tears.
"Ow, ow! It hurts! Please, sis, have mercy!"
Michael gently lifted Miaomiao off Marcus and held her close. It was always puzzling how she looked out for Marcus when facing a common enemy, yet was relentless in pestering him during normal times.
After a long bout of sobbing, Marcus suddenly opened the thin membrane over his face wide in realization.
"Ah! I remember now, sis! You mean that raggedy-looking pirate crew, right? The ones we dug out from the Argo Mountains?"
"Yes, those are the ones. They've got a deep grudge against the Glorious Holy Kingdom, just like you. That's why they're currently raiding all of the Kingdom's trade and cargo ships."