The Military Princess Won’t Fall in Love with a Magic Scientist

Chapter 191. Ignoring the Risk, Continuing the Descent

The tips of Sylvia’s ears turned slightly red, and she shot Esmeralda a fierce glare. Her voice regained its usual chill. “Enough nonsense. Come in. Did something happen?”

Seeing that Sylvia was genuinely embarrassed and angry, Esmeralda shrugged and dropped her teasing act.

She closed the door behind her, strode quickly to the desk, and the smile that had been hanging at the corners of her mouth vanished without a trace. In its place was the cold severity unique to a professional assassin.

“Something did happen. And it’s serious.”

She slapped a wax-sealed secret letter down on the desk with a heavy smack, her tone so grave that the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

“It’s news from the Royal Capital. The commotion Ifreles caused that night was too great. We sealed off the information, but energy fluctuations at that level were impossible to hide from those old monsters in the Royal Capital’s monitoring towers.”

“They sent an investigation team?” Logaris picked up the letter and glanced at the crest on the seal, his brows knitting slightly.

“More than that.”

Esmeralda drew a deep breath and dropped a bombshell.

“The one leading them this time is Second Prince Carlisle’s chief mentor, as well as the deputy commander of the Court Mage Corps—a Sixth-Tier Mage, Morton the Ashen.”

She paused, then added, “They were planning to come under the banner of offering condolences to the disaster-stricken people of the Northern Territory. Accompanying them was also a fully organized detachment of the Royal Griffon Knights, and they were expected to arrive in Winter City in two days.”

Sylvia leaned against the edge of the desk, her fingers tapping lightly on the wax-sealed letter.

“Morton. The Ashen mage.” She repeated the name, her tone giving away neither pleasure nor anger. “Second Brother Carlisle’s chief mentor. From what I’ve heard, he’s an old fossil who has ‘rules’ and ‘honor’ carved straight into his forehead. If he’s coming, it can’t be for anything good.”

“He’s either here to steal the credit or to make trouble.”

Logaris sat back down in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and idly played with the steel pen in his hand. “The uproar Ifreles caused was too big. Those people in the Royal Capital couldn’t sit still anymore. They finally found another excuse, so of course they’re going to make a big fuss.”

“Since they’re here to ‘offer condolences,’ then we should give them a proper welcome.” Logaris pushed up his glasses, and a cold gleam flashed across the lenses. “Inform Akash. Tell him to drag out those prototype anti-air magitech cannons that just rolled off the line and let them get some sun.”

...

Two days later.

Dark clouds blanketed the skies above Winter City, and the freezing wind howled with whirling snow, as if foretelling the arrival of a storm.

“SKREEEE—!”

A piercing shriek tore through the sky, sharp enough to overwhelm even the roaring wind.

A massive formation of griffon riders burst through the clouds and appeared above the city.

There were a full fifty royal griffons, every one of them clad in gold-and-crimson enchanted armor. With their wings spread, each boasted a span of nearly ten meters, blotting out the sky and exuding a suffocating pressure.

They were arranged in a neat attack formation, casting enormous shadows beneath the dark clouds like heavenly soldiers descending from legend.

The griffon at the very front was even larger than the rest, its feathers a rare shade of dark gold. On its back sat an old man in a dark crimson mage’s robe.

He held a staff in hand, his hair and beard both white, his chin tilted high. With indifferent eyes, he looked down upon the gray, drab city below as though he were a lord inspecting his own backyard, gazing at a pack of swine rolling in the mud.

A Sixth-Tier Mage—Morton the Ashen.

“Master Morton, the outpost has sent a magitech signal.”

A knight captain guided his griffon closer and reported loudly, “They are demanding that we land outside the city on Platform Three, undergo entry inspection, and disarm.”

“Inspection? Disarm?”

Morton let out a light snort, as though he had just heard the greatest joke in the world. His voice, amplified by magic, echoed through the air.

“I am here on behalf of the royal family to offer condolences. Who dares inspect me? Has that girl Sylvia been in the Northern Territory so long that she’s forgotten what it means to respect her elders?”

He cast a dismissive glance at the seemingly peaceful city below, and contempt flashed through his eyes.

“Ignore them. Head straight for the Duke’s Manor. Fly lower so these country bumpkins can see what true royal majesty looks like!”

“Yes, sir!”

The knight captain did not hesitate. With a sweep of his hand, the entire formation ignored the outpost’s flashing red warning signals, dropped to a lower altitude, and flew straight toward the Duke’s Manor on the high ground.

They were used to this. In the Royal Capital, whenever the Royal Griffon Knights moved out, they always barreled through without restraint. Even the territories of the great nobles had to obediently open their airspace.

But this was Winter City.

The instant the griffon formation descended to five hundred meters and was about to cross the outer security line of the Duke’s Manor—

BZZZZZ—

A low, grating mechanical hum suddenly rang out.

On the towers surrounding the Duke’s Manor, six metal cylinders disguised as decorative sculptures abruptly shed their camouflage and revealed their vicious true forms.

They were six pitch-black cannon barrels as thick as a man’s thigh, each engraved with dense blue runes. As gears turned, the muzzles rose rapidly, like six awakened steel behemoths locking onto the targets in the sky.

In the next moment, there were no warning shots.

After all, there was no such thing as “firing a warning shot” in Logaris’s dictionary.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

With explosive cracks that tore through the air, six dark blue high-energy mana beams burst forth, instantly weaving together into an airtight web of firepower that sealed off every route of advance for the griffon unit.

“Enemy attack?!”

The knight captain’s face changed drastically. Before he even had time to draw his sword, he saw several beams skim past the top of his griffon’s head.

SZZZZT—

The scorching heat instantly singed away a large patch of feathers, and the air filled with the stench of burnt plumage.

That royal griffon, which was usually majestic and rigorously trained, let out a terrified scream. Its wings stiffened, and it immediately stalled and plunged downward.

The rest of the griffons also descended into chaos. The neatly ordered formation exploded apart in an instant, turning into a swarm of panicked flies, darting madly through the sky and colliding with one another.

“Bastards! How dare they?!”

Morton flew into a rage, his face flushing a dark purplish red. He had never imagined that the Northern Territory would dare open fire directly.

As a beam shot straight toward his face, Morton had no choice but to raise his staff and conjure a shield of flame.

BOOM!

The beam exploded against the shield. Although it failed to pierce the defense of a Sixth-Tier Mage, the tremendous impact still left Morton in a disheveled state.

WHOOOSH—

The violent blast of air tore the tall pointed mage hat from his head—the symbol of his status.

Then, a sight that shocked everyone unfolded.

With the hat gone, Morton’s once profound and imposing image collapsed instantly.

The top of his head was smooth and shining like a mirror. Only a sparse ring of white hair around the sides stood stubbornly at its post, whipping wildly in the wind.

It was classic horseshoe baldness.

Under the gloomy sky, that gleaming scalp actually reflected a dazzling ray of light, like a lighthouse in the dead of night.

“Pfft...”

Among the recruits below manning the magitech cannons, someone failed to hold back a laugh.

“Land! Land now!”

With one hand covering his head and the other waving his staff, Morton shouted, his voice trembling with furious humiliation.

Amid total chaos, this force that represented the majesty of the royal family had no choice but to make an extremely miserable forced landing in a plaza before the Duke’s Manor.

Several griffons failed to keep their footing when they touched down and skidded face-first through the muddy snow for more than a dozen meters, chewing up mouthfuls of slush and dirt. Not a trace remained of the former grandeur of the Royal Griffon Knights.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!