The Empire's State of Emergency and the Fashion Spirit
Solaris, the capital of the Solarrium Empire blessed by the sun god. The peaceful evening scene of the city had turned into utter chaos.
Housewives out shopping at the evening market, merchants hawking their wares, even mercenaries chugging cool beers—they all froze in place. It was because of the massive shadow that had appeared in the direction of the academy.
Kroooaaaarrr—!!!!
A colossal pair of jet-black wings, spanning over 150 meters, unfurled and folded in an instant. Even with its wings tucked away, the dragon's 47-meter-tall silhouette was visible from anywhere in the capital.
The roar cut off quickly. But that single cry was enough to paralyze the entire massive city.
Horses pulling carriages collapsed in terror. "W-what in the world is that?!" "It's a dragon! The legendary demon dragon has come to destroy the capital!" "Sun God, please look upon us with mercy!"
Citizens dropped to their knees on the streets, clasping their hands in prayer. Desperate wails, convinced the end times had arrived, erupted from every corner of the city. Even the low-level cultists of the Abyss Church, hiding in the capital's dark alleys, turned pale at the overwhelming sight.
"Gr-Grand Priest! Could that be our outer god descending already?!" "You idiot! How could that be our outer god?!" "Kwaaaak! Forgive me, Grand Priest!"
There were minor incidents, like low-level cultists screaming under the Grand Priest's punishment for blasphemy.
At the same time, the imperial palace was in an uproar. The moment the emergency report arrived that a dragon had descended on the academy, the imperial knight order declared a full wartime alert.
The captain of the imperial knights' face was set in a cold grimace. "All knights, arm yourselves! We're marching to the academy immediately!"
At the captain's command, the palace's elite knights moved with perfect precision. "Captain, the enemy is presumed to be a dragon! Our forces alone might not be enough!" "I know, damn it! But the empire's princess, Ardelia, is there! Even if we all die, we must protect Her Highness's person."
The captain's shout ignited a fierce resolve in the knights' eyes. "We'll rescue the princess even if it costs our lives! All forces, advance!"
Hundreds of massive warhorses and knights clad in silver plate armor thundered out of the palace's main gate. Driven by a single-minded determination to save the princess, they charged at full speed toward death.
They had no idea what state the princess was actually in.
The Mage Tower, towering near the imperial palace—the holiest site in the capital Solaris. While ordinary citizens were gripped by visual terror, the mages who handled mana endured suffering on an entirely different level.
The enormous mass of magical power emanating from the academy felt like a sharp saw ripping through the senses of trained mages—a horrific pressure.
Mages inside the tower rushed into the corridors, clutching their heads in pain. "W-what the hell is that monstrous mana wave?!" "Did a 9-circle archmage unleash some forbidden summoning spell?!" "It's from the academy! It's so huge we can see it from here!"
As chaos peaked, the door to the command room opened, and an elderly man emerged with a stony face. It was Dekaron, the Mage Tower Lord—Asrion's grandfather and one of the pinnacles of imperial magic.
His gray eyes pierced the massive silhouette blotting the sky above the distant academy. "Summon the high mages immediately. Prepare a large-scale teleport to the academy."
The moment the tower lord slammed his staff on the ground to issue the order—
Weeeeng—!
The top-priority direct mana communicator in his pocket let out a shrill ring. The sender was the academy dean.
The tower lord hurriedly infused mana to connect. "Tower Lord brother. Don't bring the army. It's not an enemy attack."
Despite the dire situation, the dean's voice was utterly devoid, laced with profound resignation. The tower lord furrowed his brow and bellowed, "What nonsense is this, you brat?! Look outside! Can't you see that massive dragon silhouette?! If that's not an attack, then what the hell is it?! It looks like a spirit, but you're telling me to relax because some lunatic summoned that thing?! You fool!"
A deep, heavy sigh came through the communicator. Soon, the dean stroked his white beard and replied in a cracked voice. "…It's a spirit summoned just now by a first-year freshman during an extended class. Please don't bring the mages and trust me. My stomach's burning up and I'm about to lose my mind. Don't make more work for me—think of it as saving your juniors."
Click.
The dean cut the connection unilaterally, likely swamped with calls from the palace and noble houses. "……."
The tower lord froze, still holding the communicator. His train of thought ground to a halt.
'A first-year… freshman summoned it? No, what nonsense is that guy spouting… Wait, he wouldn't lie in this situation.'
The tower lord was a rational mage. He knew better than anyone that summoning a spirit of that size and power required at least 8-circle mana, plus affinity and innate summoning talent.
So which first-year freshman this year could perform such a miracle?
One face flashed through the tower lord's mind like lightning. An irrational conclusion followed.
His pride and joy. The continent's greatest genius, who had reached 3-circle at age 13.
"Could it be… our Asrion did it?!"
A cry of shock and ecstasy burst from the tower lord's lips. A moment's calm reflection would have revealed that a mere 3-circle Asrion could never pull it off. But for this severe grandson-obsessed grandfather, rational mage thinking had long flown off to the outer cosmos.
The original work's depiction of the grandfather's extreme grandson love played out here too. Latching onto "first-year freshman," his happy-circuit elimination method concluded it had to be his grandson—a miraculous blind faith.
"Hahaha! My bloodline has finally done it! Summoning such a legendary spirit at 13 years old!"
The tower lord trembled with excitement. He waved frantically at the high mages behind him. "You lot, stand by! I'm going alone! I have to witness my proud grandson's historic moment with my own eyes! While I'm at it, I'll teleport to the academy to see my grandson!"
And so, Mage Tower Lord Dekaron activated a spatial transfer spell to the academy, clutching his colossal delusion.
The outside world was in pandemonium, convinced the apocalypse had come. But the academy's massive training grounds—the epicenter of it all—were astonishingly peaceful and serene.
"Whoa! Rian, this guy's seriously cooler the more I look at him!"
Vesperia von Edelgart clung to Guams's enormous snout, grinning ear to ear. The massive dragon held its breath, grunting nervously, knowing it'd get scolded by Rian if she got hurt.
Ardelia de Solarrium tried to maintain her elegant poise but kept fiddling with the giant jet-black scales. Brightum at her feet and Kakmang in Vesperia's arms watched Guams cautiously.
Then Vesperia turned her sparkling purple eyes to Rian. "Hey, Rian. Could we maybe ride him and fly in the sky once? Flying on a dragon sounds like the ultimate awesome adventure!"
An innocent suggestion. But Ardelia gazed at Rian with eyes thick with hidden anticipation too.
Riding a dragon's back through the skies! It was a heart-pounding dream even imperial royalty couldn't imagine.
But Rian scratched his chin and looked up at Guams. "Flight capability is standard-equipped, so physically flying is no issue."
He spoke in a lazy drawl. "But riding right now? No way. Well, you could, but you wouldn't survive it."
"Huh? Why? He's huge, so there should be plenty of room on his back, right?"
Vesperia tilted her head, and Rian continued. "No safety features. Factoring in his flight speed and altitude, air resistance would be insane. Hanging on bareback, you'd get friction burns from the heat or get blasted off by wind pressure. At high altitude, oxygen deprivation and plummeting temps kick in. It's not romance—it's straight-up survival."
A brutally realistic take: high-altitude flight without safeguards was suicide. Modern folks could grasp it by imagining an airplane door opening mid-flight.
The two girls fell silent at Rian's pragmatic analysis. Professor Emilia Rockhart nodded quietly in agreement.
"That's a shame…."
Vesperia pouted, her dream crushed. Rian scratched the back of his head and added, "Well, doesn't mean riding's impossible altogether. Just build a comfy passenger setup."
"Huh? For real?"
"Yeah. Calculate aerodynamics for an air-dynamic shield magic circle to deflect wind pressure on his back, design a separate magic saddle for oxygen supply and temp control. Actually kinda intriguing. Give me a few days. I'll research it."
To Rian, making a dragon rideable was just an extension of his hobby tinkering for efficiency. Even he got the appeal of something cool.
"Whoa, really?! Promise, Rian! I'm super excited!"
Vesperia beamed, grabbing Rian's arm and bouncing. Ardelia felt her heart race at the prospect of such a wondrous experience. The survival-focused princess was slowly awakening to romance.
"I look forward to it as well, Rian. Please let me ride along."
"Yeah, yeah, got it."
"Rian, if you need any help, just say so. Your research sounds fascinating to me too."
Professor Emilia was ready to assist Rian's project outright.
And so, oblivious to the chaos outside, they dove headfirst into dragon-riding research.