Royal Citadel, Kingdom of Azuria.

  May 8th, 1427.

  Foreign Minister Ruprecht looked to the skies as he heard a peculiar buzzing noise, as if a hundred wyverns were flapping their wings simultaneously. As the sounds grew louder, he squinted, identifying the source of the noises: the ‘helicopters’. Six of them appeared over the horizon, approaching the Citadel with one being significantly larger than the rest flying in the center of the formation. Unlike the long and sleek forms of its escort, the gigantic flying craft’s body was blunt, flat and wide like a flying squirrel.

  “Is tha-that a Heavenly Ship?” An brown haired elvish woman stubbled with her words, finding the sight before her difficult to explain.

  “I don’t think so, Evatyr…” Ruprecht continued to observe as the massive aircraft approached the Royal Citadel. The aircraft eventually touched down on the large open yard, kicking up fallen leaves and grass everywhere with its mighty gust of wind generated by the quadruple set of dual coaxial rotors.

  The aircraft’s front ramp dropped down, revealing several men in similar outfits to those that had arrived here the day before. A man in his mid 50s in the same camouflage uniform as the others stepped out of the massive aircraft, his greying hair yet muscular form barely able to hide the sense of authority radiating from the man. He was flanked by several other guards holding their weapons which they called an ‘assault rifle’, confirming Ruprecht’s theory that he is the man that he has been waiting for.

  “Foreign Minister Ruprecht?” The man onboard called out, stepping off the massive aircraft.

  Quickly regaining his composure, Ruprecht offered a handshake, having quickly picked up the gesture from the newcomers. “Yes, I take it you’re General Stanford? Mister Ambassador spoke highly of you, and that you are in charge of escorting my delegation to your homeland.”

  “That is correct, Mister Ruprecht.” Stanford replied, accepting Ruprecht’s handshake. “Please follow me inside.”

  The Azurian delegation steps inside the CH-48 Rorqual, finding themselves marveling at the engineering of the rotorcraft.

  The inside was comparatively fancy even to the luxurious wagons he was used to being transported in. Such wonders, bereft of the arcane! He examined the aircraft. The interior contained several rooms, divided by wooden doors and wood-plated walls, giving him the impression of a luxurious yet cozy rural shack instead of the cold, hard metal exterior of the flying machine.

  "Oh the heavens!" Evatyr, the female assistant accidentally let her emotions slip out at the beautifully decorated interior.

  “I must say, your flying craft is truly impressive to behold!” Ruprecht’s eyes lit up, taking in the luxurious view of the machine that he now finds himself inside which looked more like a fancy guest house than a flying machine.

  “It’s a bit rushed since the guesthouse module hasn’t been fitted into one of these aircraft for a long time, but I assure you that with myself being here, your travel shall be safe and comfortable until we reach Arden, our capital city.”

  – –

  Ruprecht stretched his legs, letting his body sink into the soft, comfortable chair in one of the bedrooms on the aircraft. Looking outside the window, he saw the rotor blades spin up slowly as the turbine engines pick up speed, finally ceasing to accelerate once they've spun fast enough.

  “Oh!” He exclaimed as the aircraft turbines and rotors sped up, lifting into the air. The sensation was quite unlike the feeling of being pulled into the sky upon the back of a wyvern. Helicopter flight had much less buckling than wyvern flight and the seats were much more elegant and comfortable. In addition, the aircraft had a pressurized cabin, so Ruprecht felt more like he was on a boat rather than something that could fly.

  After the initial takeoff, the rumbling subsided as the aircraft rotors tilted to move forward. The Rorqual picks up speed, only encountering a few patches of turbulence here and there.

  Indulging into a cut of steak and a cup of wine onboard the aircraft, Ruprecht felt like a king. He pondered the wealth and power these Elysians had; how much money and resources could they possibly have in order to build such an elegant flying machine? Only the Holy Celestial Empire, the most powerful country in Sorval, was rumored to possess flying ships which they referred to as Heavenly Ships.

  Caught on the topic of aircrafts, he set his gaze at the escorts flying outside. “Say, Ambassador Anderson, those flying machines that are currently escorting us, is it possible for us to purchase them? Such sophisticated crafts may cost us a fortune should we choose to purchase them, but surely your country may offer the opportunity?” He asked Anderson who was sitting on the opposite table.

  Anderson looked puzzled by the question at first, but he eventually understood what Ruprecht was coming from. “I apologize, Mister Ruprecht, but that’s not up to me. Although I do expect us to sell some of these off to raise funds for government expenditures, since our economic situation is… not going well as you may have figured. Being suddenly transported to another world caused a lot of disruption in our economy.”

  “I see…” Ruprecht calculates his chance, a million simulations running through his head. The opportunity to have the Royal Army equipped with flying crafts comparable to the Holy Celestial Empire, expeditions to areas inaccessible even to wyverns, etc. Now those dreams seem closer to reality.

  Anderson set his can of soda down. “We used to sell and trade weapons with our few allies back in our world due to competition with rivaling powers. I can imagine you flying one of these yourself one day, if you work hard enough on your training.” He chuckles, adding in some flattery to not put down the technologically inferior Azurians. “They’re very hard to fly, but then again, we don’t know how to ride wyverns unlike your people.”

  “If you have time, I’ll have someone teach you how to ride a wyvern.” Ruprecht replied. “I’ll work out a deal with your leader, for both my Lord and your country as well.”

  Anderson took another sip. “I’m happy to hear that. You can bring this topic up with the President once you and your assistant meet him, Mister Ruprecht.”

  Evatyr peeked out of the aircraft’s window before retreating back into her seat, her hand holding Ruprecht’s tightly. “H-how are you two so calm this high up!? We’re flying near the clouds, you know?!”

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  Ruprecht gave Anderson a friendly smile, trying to explain the situation. “My apologies, Ambassador. It appears that I have forgotten about my assistant’s fear of height.”

  “It’s understandable, Mister Ruprecht, even I am afraid of falling from great heights.” Anderson answered, slowly closing the sliding window on his side of the chair.

  The two men exchanged casual chatter, finding commonality in both culture and personal preferences. Both Ruprecht and Anderson felt relief, finding people from both worlds are not so different after all.

  7th Carrier Task Force.

  Ruprecht and Evatyr looked out the windows, gawking at the small fleet of large metal ships down below them. Ruprecht stared at the massive flat top ship in particular, its deck filled with more than a dozen metal birds laying rest above, their wings folded up neatly. These vessels dwarfed the quadriremes and quinqueremes of the Elvish Navy by a significant margin, perhaps even strong and armored enough to destroy them just by ramming.

  “Holy Miritta… how large is that ship?” Ruprecht mumbles to himself.

  The massive quadrotor touched down on the flight deck, sailors running about as they folded the aircraft’s ducted rotors in preparation for storage in the upper deck, as the elevators weren't large enough to lift the aircraft down into the hangar.

  Ruprecht walked out of the helicopter, stepping on the steel flight deck. As he breathed in the salty air of the sea, he took in the scenery around him. A dozen metal ships moved along in formation with the flat top vessel, making sure nothing can reach the massive floating construct that he now stood atop. The sight was certainly most impressive to him, but not Evatyr, who only smiles instead of gawking like he did before they disembarked.

  From her resume, Ruprecht knew that Evatyr had been in the Holy Celestial Empire before as a student of the Imperial Magical Academy before returning to Azuria upon completion of her study. The Celestials are proud about their magical and military might, so he assumed that even a fleet like this is nothing surprising to her, but still worth being excited to observe.

  “Enjoying the scenery, sir and ma’am?” A roughen voice behind him said.

  Ruprecht turned around, noticing a man in a sharp white suit with golden lines running along his outfit’s arm. “Greetings there good sir, who might you be?”

  “Admiral Chester Isaac.” The man introduces himself. “I’m in charge of the naval task force here.” He responded, offering another familiar handshake. The gesture had pretty much been imprinted inside Ruprecht’s head at this point, since it appears that this is how these newcomers greet people.

  It was strange at first, but he eventually understood why they preferred to do it this way as a formality. Shaking someone’s hand meant that you entered a contract with them to show off your civility and friendliness.

  Ruprecht and his female assistant shook the Admiral’s hands. “Pleasure to meet you, Admiral. I must say, your ships are most impressive! No doubt they could go toe-to-toe with even legendary sea monsters out here!”

  The three walked together to the inner decks of the carriers, passing through busy sailors who momentarily stopped their activity to give the Admiral a salute before continuing their work, but some sailors momentarily looked back at Ruprecht's female assistant who has peculiar pointy ears unlike those of a human. It was strange and a bit awkward for her to be looked at weirdly by so many people, but she knew that they were just curious. In their old homeworld, they have no other intelligent races other than humans, so even an elf, or more specifically a half-elf like her, was almost alien in appearance.

  Upon reaching the second floor, Admiral Chester ordered the security personnel to open the metal door, revealing a modest but luxurious room in comparison to the stale metallic environment and drab paint decorating the rest of the ship’s interior.

  Soft sofas, chairs and a work desk decorated the place, while a bunk bed is tucked neatly in the corner of the room. Artificial lighting integrated into the ceiling brightens up the interior as well, providing a strange but certainly very cozy atmosphere to rest for the night. While it isn't as luxurious as the aircraft he arrived here on, Ruprecht couldn’t ask for much more as living space is definitely a luxury on warships such as this one, even if it's incredibly huge in comparison to those of Azuria’s.

  “This will be where you will be staying for the night.” Admiral Chester introduces the guest room. “We still have problems with cleaning up the airport after the storm, but there will be another aircraft from Arden to pick you up by tomorrow morning. It’s still a mess right now, so I apologize for any inconvenience.”

  The Azurians nod. “We understand, Admiral.”

  “Then, I’ll leave you be. If there’s anything you’d need, you can call one of our guards outside the room.” He assures the delegation. “Remember, if you’re looking for something to eat then I’ll have my men deliver them to you. And please,” He warned the two. “Stay clear of the sailor’s work, we are very busy.”

  “I understand, Admiral.” Ruprecht answered him.

  As Admiral Chester finished closing the door, allowing silence to set it, The Azurians let out a sigh of relief. “That was so stressful!” Evatyr let out an exhale, catching her breath. “By the way, what’s an ‘airport’ that he mentioned earlier?” she asked.

  “I do not know… it’s probably like one of the many skyports in the Holy Celestial Empire.” Ruprecht answers, terrifying thoughts running through his mind. If these Elysians have metal ships, metal wagons and infrastructure on par with the two distant superpowers in the Central Continent: the Holy Celestial Empire - the land of the ultimate magic, then nothing could stop them from conquering his country and even the Eastern Continent. But he stopped that thought. If they’re conquerors, they wouldn’t have sent such a polite diplomat despite having powers and strength unknown to him and his people.

  Ruprecht was certain that they understood the importance of diplomacy, and as a technologically superior nation, they would’ve taken notice of Azuria’s lack of technological prowess. However, they are approaching Azuria not as a superior being, but as an equal right from the get go.

  The Holy Celestial Empire only has very limited contact as well as relations with countries in the Eastern Continent thanks to the extremely vast distance involved between the Western and Eastern Continent, limited only to trading miscellaneous goods through travelling merchants. The Celestials, while friendly, often look down on the people of the Eastern Continent as inferior societies unworthy of attention, paying little attention to the affairs of what is happening here.

  “Let’s compose ourselves, Evatyr. You must be tired from the ride on that…-” Ruprecht stuttered, trying to remember the term. “-helicopter.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll try to document everything.” Evatyr reassures her superior, taking advantage of the small work desk in the room as she takes notes and sketches up scenes of what had happened during the trip thus far.

  Ruprecht laid rest on the lower bunk, eyes staring at the ceiling as he drowns himself in thought. He hasn’t even arrived at the United Federation yet, and these outworlders have already surprised him with constructs and technology beyond his understanding. Even Evatyr sensed no mana nor any other magical signature from any of these outlanders, meaning that their technology is entirely mechanical in nature without any use of magical gems, much like those of the Florence Republic in the distant west that he’d heard of.

  He eventually closed his eyes as drowsiness set in, overwhelmed just by the events of what transpired today, choosing sleep to prepare himself for the next day.