Whup-whup-whup!
Surprisingly, the imperial family had a backup dispatch aeroplane—the same kind they used to escort us to Berian—but this time, they clearly weren't taking any chances.
Four other aircraft flanked us on all sides, each one packed not only with power-armored gunmen but also with mages now flying alongside them.
I couldn't help wondering how that conflict was going. Last I knew, Azrael and Corvus were the only forces the Academy or Imperial Family had deployed in response to the elven attack.
"Marcellus really didn't want to come with us?"
From the opposite side, Lillian spoke up, directing the question at Julius.
"No. Apparently, he had more work to do. I even saw him vehemently refuse the imperial guard they sent to escort him."
"Think he'll be okay?"
"Probably. He shouldn't be long. As long as he can make his district self-sustaining for a while, he'll probably catch up to us."
FWOOSH!
