Chapter 752: Chapter 718: Central Islands (Part 2)

Duke remained silent.

Lis quickly glanced up at him. That gaze carried a certain secretive expectation—perhaps anticipating resonance, perhaps hoping for camaraderie.

She lowered her voice, almost whispering:

"I haven’t heard of anyone from Black Sail being invited either... so I thought, perhaps you too—"

"Hmm." Duke replied.

Lis was stunned.

Her amber eyes were fixed on him, as if trying to read a trace of a crack on that calm face—discontent, disappointment, bitterness, or even just mild discomfort.

Nothing at all.

He picked up a napkin to dab his lips, the gesture as composed as if practicing a magic spell a thousand times.

Then he placed the napkin back on the table and took a sip from the wine glass.

The sunlight outside was just right, and the elf brew refracted flowing golden rays in the crystal glass.

Lis bit her fork and, after a moment, softly asked:

"Are you... not angry?"

"Why be angry?"

Lis was speechless.

She furrowed her brow, and the lettuce leaf gradually wilted on the fork’s tip.

She pondered for a long time, long enough for three clouds outside the window to drift by, before she carefully spoke:

"Because this obviously divides into cliques." Lis’s voice gradually gained some strength, as if convincing herself, "Those direct descendants from big families and major powers make acquaintances with each other, exchange communication imprints, so they can take care of each other over at the Central Islands, while people like us—"

She paused.

The fork pierced a piece of lettuce, and juice seeped out, spreading a small wet spot on the white porcelain plate.

Duke put down his wine glass.

"They have the right to choose with whom to associate," his tone was calm, unperturbed, "It’s none of my business."

Lis stared at him, as if looking at someone incomprehensible.

In her gaze, there was confusion, exploration, and a faint, cautious—reverence? She couldn’t even say herself.

"...You’re really different." She finally uttered just this sentence.

Duke didn’t question what made him different.

He just slightly turned his head, his gaze falling outside the window.

The clouds had thinned considerably without notice, through the crystal curtain wall one could see far below, shadows might be seabirds or some island clusters casting shadows on the sea surface.

Lis silently finished eating the last few pieces of lettuce.

The fruit tea was completely cold, and she no longer attempted to drink it.

But she didn’t immediately take her leave.

After a while, she suddenly remembered something, lifting her gaze. This time her look carried a trace of uncontrollable excitement and nervousness, even her voice was lowered further:

"Oh, and there’s one thing—I heard someone say that the Crawford family member..."

She instinctively glanced around, the restaurant had a few scattered wizards sitting far apart.

A middle-aged couple by the window were talking in low voices, another corner had an elder dining alone, studying an unknown parchment with a magnifying glass, no one paid attention to this table in the corner.

Lis took a deep breath and leaned forward, her elbow pressed on the table edge:

"Lord Samuel refused the invitation."

Her voice was extremely low, nearly whispers, but every syllable carried uncontainable glee—that secret, petty schadenfreude born when a minor figure hears that those in power aren’t really that united.

Duke’s fingertip paused for a moment on the glass rim but didn’t feel surprised.

He wasn’t interested in these matters, his heart far from being as sensitive or fragile as Lis’s.

Vera and the others didn’t send him an invitation, which was only natural, after all, Duke seemed just like a simple Level 2 Elemental Mage from humble beginnings, with some talent and luck, nothing remarkable.

Duke didn’t feel offended for not being invited; it’s the sensitive hearts that only weaker individuals possess.

He knew what kind of strength he possessed, and he didn’t care about blending into those small circles, nor what others thought of him.

The afternoon sunlight poured through the crystal curtain wall, reflecting fine speckles on the silver cutlery, dancing and swirling across the white tablecloth.

The elf musician’s harp notes flowed like streams from fingertips, with occasional notes skewed by the airflow outside the window, only to be gently corrected the next moment.

Lis quickly finished her simple lunch.

She neatly arranged the utensils in the plate, folded the napkin into a square shape and placed it aside—a ritual ingrained in her bones, allowing no deviation.

"I wish you a safe journey ahead, Duke."

Duke nodded slightly.

Lis turned around, the gray-blue robe’s hem gently lifting at the corridor’s end, soon disappearing around the corner.

The restaurant returned to silence.

Outside, the sea of clouds continued to surge.

At some point, the thick clouds blocking sunlight had drifted afar, light once again poured in, casting large, fluid, fine spots of illumination on the table.

After finishing his meal, Duke returned to his room out of habit, with an unperturbed heart.

He understood clearly why those like Vera would band together, because this time heading to the Central Islands for learning wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

This study was the Wizard Council’s cultivation of the younger generation. Naturally, there would be teaching akin to normal courses, but there would also be projects full of competition and danger.

After all, the West Coast was just a small place in the whole Wizard Plane. Black Sail, Silver Hand, Thorn Holy Tower, Doomsday Bell—these four Wizard Organizations placed on the stage of the entire Wizard Plane, only counted as medium-small Wizard Organizations.

These young wizards from the West Coast would compete with the young wizards from the entire Wizard Plane, no one wanted to fall behind.

In such times, banding together for warmth was naturally a wiser choice, Vera and others forming their small circle was understandable.

They would naturally invite those wizards with potential, background, and certain strength to join their circle.

Duke, who appeared unremarkable, naturally wouldn’t be invited.

Duke himself also didn’t have the intention of grouping together; he preferred to act alone.

Furthermore, with his current strength, Duke had sufficient confidence to handle things alone.

When collaborating with others, the most crucial issue was trust.

These people were all prodigies from various origins, it was impossible to build real trust and cooperation among them.

Vera and others’ little circle seemed united but was actually extremely fragile, the actual effect they could achieve was very limited.

...

On the fifteenth day of the voyage, finally a strange light appeared at the end of the sea of clouds.

Initially, it was just a faint silver line on the horizon, thin as a spider’s silk, almost indistinguishable under the noon sun.

But soon, that silver line thickened, extending and climbing upward at a speed visible to the naked eye, until it stained the entire sky with a kind of pearly white mixed with pale gold, gentle and not glaring.

Someone let out a suppressed gasp of awe.

The restaurant, hallway, observation deck—those young wizards who had grown used to the monotonous scenery of the sea of clouds over the past half month, instinctively paused what they were doing and gathered around the windows.

Duke stood at his cabin window, gazing calmly into the distance.

It wasn’t a cloud, not a mirage, nor any natural phenomenon.

It was the light cast by Sky City.

The airship began to decelerate, the hum of the alchemy core shifted from deep and steady to a more restrained, more cautious rhythm, as if even this military-grade airship couldn’t help but tread lightly when facing the area ahead.

The clouds finally dispersed entirely.

The Central Islands unfolded before everyone.

Duke had imagined this area’s appearance countless times from books, mission briefs, and Lucas’s occasional mentions, but no text or image could replicate the overwhelming, nearly suffocating sense of order experienced when seeing it firsthand.

Countless islands were scattered like stars over the dark blue and near-black sea surface, each enveloped in a translucent energy shield, connected by extremely fine light bridges.

Those light bridges either vertically ascended into the sky or horizontally spanned several nautical miles, weaving into a three-dimensional network covering the entire sea area.

Above the islands, three massive Floating Cities hovered, not stationary but moving at a slow, almost undetectable speed along fixed trajectories, like three tamed stars.

The highest and most magnificent one was Sky City.

And towering at the center of Sky City, piercing through the clouds to reach the sky, stood the Six-Ring Tower.