Raven City Adventurer Guild
And the rewards?
Katja stood in front of the reception desk, staring at what the receptionist had just placed in her hands. Shiny things. Beautiful shiny things. Things that had never rested in her hands before.
Gold coins.
Seventeen of them.
Her eyes sparkled.
It was…
Life-changing.
From that moment on, Katja's life transformed at breakneck speed.
The hay bed she once slept on? Replaced with a luxurious memory-foam mattress.
Stale bread and dried meat? Now steak and wine.
Rough hemp clothes that scratched her skin? Now elegant silk outfits that looked like something a noble might wear.
Her worn-out boots? Replaced by stylish Murican shoes that were somehow both comfortable and suspiciously expensive.
Everything in Raven City cost money. A lot of money.
But now… She could afford it.
I finally got the life I always dreamed of.
And I wasn't even an A-rank adventurer.
If I kept this up, Meja and I could travel the world anytime soon.
Naturally…
She also visited the city's beloved casino.
"Just a little," Katja told herself the first time she walked in.
She sat down at a blackjack table.
Lost the first game.
She bought more chips.
Then she tried roulette.
Lost again.
She bought more chips.
Then she tried the slot machines.
Lost again.
She bought more chips.
"I'll earn it back tomorrow," Katja told herself confidently.
It was fine.
I still had quests.
And she did. Over and over again.
Until one day…
---
Raven City Adventurer Guild
"I'm sorry, miss," the receptionist said with a very sweet smile. "But there are no quests available for wyvern riders at the moment."
Katja froze.
"W-W-What do you mean!?"
The receptionist only maintained the same sweet smile.
A day passed.
Then a week.
Then two.
Still no wyvern-rider quests.
And then—
"Excuse me, miss."
Katja slowly turned around.
A casino manager stood behind her.
Then she noticed the hotel manager standing beside him. Then the restaurant manager. Then the pawn shop manager.
They all smiled at her. The same identical smile.
Soulless.
"It's time to pay your bills."
Katja dropped to her knees and slammed her forehead against the floor with a loud thud.
"I'M SO SORRY! I CAN'T PAY!"
---
Raven City Courthouse
"Military service for ten years," the judge declared.
KNOCK.
The gavel struck the table.
Katja stood there silently.
Then she sighed.
And just like that…
My adventurer life ended.
And my military life began.
---
Tri-Border Ocean — Present
Katja blinked as the memory faded.
The frigate beneath her feet shook slightly as the ship continued sailing into the towering smoke wall.
She glanced over her shoulder toward the other ships.
Later on, I learned that I wasn't the only wyvern rider who suffered this fate…
Massive hatches on the frigate's deck slowly opened. From the darkness below, wyverns began emerging one by one. Five in total. Each guided carefully by their riders as they climbed onto the deck.
Katja guided Meja up from the lower deck. Once her wyvern stood firmly on the planks, Katja placed her half-helmet on her head.
She adjusted the goggles, tightened the straps, Meja stretched her wings wide.
And then—
FWOOOSH.
They launched into the sky.
Apparently…
This was how Ravendawn filled their air force quickly.
And cheaply.
The wyverns climbed through the thick white fog.
Higher.
Higher.
Until suddenly—
They burst through the smoke.
And into absolute chaos.
BOOM.
BOOM BOOM BOOOOM.
SCREEEECH.
The sky was filled with fire and explosions.
Smoke and burning metal filled the air.
Dozens of Dwargonian airships hovered across the battlefield, their cannons firing nonstop as swarms of Ravendawn wyverns attacked from every direction, blasting firebreath and fireballs toward the massive flying vessels.
Katja stared at the battlefield with a pale face.
Back in Bremen, the most dangerous part of my job was being yelled at by impatient mages.
Now…
Now I'm fighting the giant air fleet of a major dwarven nation in Talvaris.
Katja and Meja dove into the battle. They swerved between cannon blasts.
She hurled a fireball.
Direct hit.
One of the airship balloons erupted into flames.
A cannonball roared past her head.
She screamed.
Another cannonball followed.
She screamed louder.
She fired another fireball.
God…
I really wish I never came to Ravendawn…
---
Inside a Dwargonian Airship
"WHERE DID THESE WYVERNS COME FROM!?" the captain screamed.
"SIR! THEY WERE HIDING INSIDE THE FOG!" an officer yelled back.
"BUT WITH WHAT!? THERE'S NOTHING BUT OCEAN BELOW—"
A massive shadow suddenly filled the bridge window. A wyvern right outside.
Everyone on the bridge froze.
The bridge crew stared at the wyvern.
The wyvern stared back.
With an open jaw.
FWOOOM—
A torrent of fire blasted through the window and swallowed the bridge.
Flames surged across the command deck as the crew's screams were drowned by the roar of burning fuel and collapsing machinery.
The airship shuddered violently. Metal plates warped and shrieked under the heat as control of the vessel was lost.
The massive craft tilted, then began spiraling downward out of control.
SPLAAAAASH.
The burning airship plunged toward the ocean below. The wreck vanished beneath the waves.
---
Dwargonia Main Fleet, Super Dreadnought Wavecrusher
The bridge was silent.
Dwargonian officers stood frozen in place, staring at the unfolding disaster above their vanguard fleet. The sky was filled with smoke, explosions, and burning wreckage.
Wyverns shouldn't have been a threat.
Airships were designed specifically to counter them. Their cannons could shoot a wyvern out of the sky long before it ever reached attack range.
And more importantly—
No wyvern should have been able to reach this location in the first place. They were hundreds of kilometers from land.
Yet the creatures were here.
Yet they were tearing the fleet apart.
One airship after another.
Admiral Durnick stood at the center of the bridge, watching the battle with a darkening expression.
For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he gave the order.
"…Send the fighters."
The command spread quickly across the fleet. Signal flags rose. Engines roared to life in distant hangars. Pilots rushed toward their machines.
War had changed.
And the skies above the Tri-Border Ocean were about to become a new kind of battlefield.
---
Dwargonia Main Fleet
The Dwargonia main fleet held its formation above the open ocean, an iron continent floating in the sky. Massive airships hovered in layered ranks, their stone-reinforced hulls etched with runes and national sigils, enhanced steam engines humming in a steady, reassuring rhythm.
Then the formation changed.
A dozen airships eased forward from the main line, drifting several ship-lengths ahead of their brethren. At first, the maneuver looked routine—until the underside of those vessels came into view.
These were not ordinary airships.
Something hung beneath them.
Metallic clamps disengaged with a thunderous clack. Heavy shapes dropped free, plunging toward the sea in silence.
For a heartbeat, gravity claimed them.
Then wings snapped open.
Engines ignited, and the falling objects surged forward instead of down.
Airplanes.
Bronze-colored aircraft roared to life, streaking forward in tight formations. At first glance, they looked eerily similar to WWII-era fighter planes from Earth—sleek fuselages, narrow wings, and aggressive silhouettes. But instead of propellers, these aircraft ran on dwarven steam-engine marvels: reinforced engines with iron chimneys that spewed thick black smoke behind the cockpit.
A marvel of dwarven engineering.
WHIIIIIRRRRR—
The sound rolled outward, a shrill mechanical scream that cut cleanly through cannon fire and wind alike.
---
Murica First Fleet, HMS Bahamut
Admiral Rusalka leaned forward, eyes narrowed at the live feed projected from the Murican reconnaissance aircraft. The image showed the Dwargonian fighters accelerating into tight formation, smoke trails slicing across the sky.
Admiral Rusalka stared at the live feed in silence for a long second.
"…How the hell did we miss "that"?" she asked.
Captain Cetus folded his arms, brow furrowed as he analyzed the data.
Captain Cetus exhaled slowly. "Well, Admiral… Dwargonia doesn't exactly publish military exposés. No open runways, no surface factories. Everything they build is underground."
"Hmph," Rusalka muttered. "They really are paranoid mole people."
She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. "Question is—do those things fight like our P-51s?"
Cetus tilted his head, watching a fighter peel off and accelerate.
"Hard to say. They're pretty fast, but maneuverability remains unknown."
She straightened. "How long until our birds arrive?"
An officer checked his console. "ETA fifteen minutes until our aircraft reach the battlefield, ma'am."
She exhaled slowly. "Relay that to Ravendawn."
"Aye."