Chapter 665: Wings of Steel
"This air corps actually gives out titles?" Staring at the info on the system panel, Mantou's face immediately lit up with joy.
Titles were personal and non-transferable. The odds of getting one were low, and they could only be obtained through specific large-scale missions—such as [Conqueror of the North] or [Imperial Champion].
Some titles even had extra effects, like golden light, flames, or rainbows hovering overhead, making the player stand out from afar, drawing envious stares from newbies.
For Cassius, crafting these titles was almost cost-free—a trade with no downside.
But players were obsessed with them. Some rich players would even throw hundreds of gold coins at a chance to chase after the flashiest and most badass title.
—After all, for players, flexing was always priority number one!
Singo scoffed playfully, smiling as he said, "You've clearly never seen the world. Just a title? The internal missions I bring you on—do you really think they'd be lacking?"
"Fwoosh——"
Before he even finished, over a dozen flashy, gaudy titles appeared over his head: [Conqueror of the North], [War Hero], [Judicator of Ethel], [Skyhunter Ranger]...
A blinding collage of glowing effects clashed together, nearly blinding Mantou's titanium-alloy dog eyes, leaving him staring, slack-jawed.
"Tch, what a show-off."
Mantou rolled his eyes and turned toward the goblin. "Sir, hurry up and brief us on the mission! I'm itching to fight for the Empire's grand vision—for His Majesty Cassius!"
Old players already had templates for talking to NPCs. When in doubt: loyalty.
"For the Empire. For His Majesty Cassius." The goblin's mouth twitched, but he still placed a hand on his chest and returned the loyal salute.
Then, he turned and led the two of them deeper into the armory.
Mantou noticed Singo still rocking his full array of effects and couldn't help but complain: "Enough, Sing-dog, just push the quest already.
Damn, if showing off was a crime, you'd be doing life. Guys like me who never flex are a dying breed."
Singo replied calmly, "Do you really hate flexing? From what I saw, you seemed pretty high and mighty in front of those newbies."
He patted Mantou on the shoulder with a sigh. "Tsk, face it Mantou—you don't hate show-offs. You just hate that you're not the one showing off."
"..."
Lies don't hurt. Truth is the sharpest blade.
At those words, Mantou recalled the times he got upstaged by Singo and ignored by newbies. He was instantly left speechless and on the verge of tears.
"Click——"
The iron door slowly rose, letting out a crisp clank.
"Whoa..."
Mantou's eyes lit up instantly, all previous frustrations thrown to the wind.
The room was lined with transparent display cases, each containing enormous, futuristic sets of armor painted with dragonfire emblems—oozing with hardcore "Imperial Style."
—One look and it was obvious: these were armors made specifically for wyverns. The helmets fit snugly around their heads, and there were even wingplates designed for mounting on the wings.
Even Singo was intrigued. "Are these... standard-issue for the Empire's airstrike division?"
In recent months, the Empire's bomber corps had made a massive impact in the wars against North Ethel and the Dwarven Kingdom.
These armored wyverns screeched through the skies like grim reapers, snatching lives with every pass.
Even today, many natives in North Ethel still bore psychological scars—just hearing those screeches made them shake and instinctively curl up on the ground.
"You could say that, but what you're seeing here is far more advanced—a crystallization of the Empire's cutting-edge tech."
The goblin gestured at the display cases with a smile. "These are the custom-made kits for the air corps. We call them the 'Skyfire' Set—meant to channel the fury of the mighty dragons from the skies and turn the Empire's enemies into ash."
Mantou gasped in awe. "Even the name sounds badass!"
Even Singo nodded in agreement this time.
The goblin stepped closer and continued: "Military engineers from the Empire's tech division built upon the base bomber equipment and added rocket boosters, gravity-suspension devices, spell targeting...
This armor boasts revolutionary power. It allows a full-grown wyvern to carry over two tons of explosives and strike with pinpoint accuracy from thousands of meters in the air."
"Meanwhile, its speed and agility won't just remain unaffected—they'll improve dramatically. Max flight speed? 700 km/h."
Mantou leaned so close to the glass, he was practically pressing his face against it.
The multi-meter-long wingplates shimmered with a metallic sheen and sleek aerodynamic curves, lined with elongated steel feathers that could be adjusted for optimal flight control.
The goblin puffed up proudly. "This armor does way more than you think."
Snap!
He snapped his fingers.
Instantly, several steel tubes extended from the rear of the wingplates, blasting out dazzling jets of flame.
"These rocket thrusters give the wyvern a terrifying burst of speed—instantly multiplying its acceleration."
Singo and Mantou listened closely, examining the armor inside the display case.
Beneath the wingplates were several complex metal discs—the gravity-suspension units, allowing for heavier payloads and smoother emergency landings.
Even the claws were armored, with wheels on the sides to help the wyvern accelerate along ground runways while burdened with heavy equipment.
Mantou stared, eyes blazing with passion like he'd just met the love of his life. "So damn cool..."
Singo couldn't help clapping. "This is peak Mechanist Church craftsmanship. They've turned a wyvern into a full-blown bomber."
The goblin reminded them, "All thanks to His Majesty Cassius's wise leadership."
Singo immediately followed up, "Naturally. The great Emperor of Ember is everywhere. From economy to politics, from military to tech, the Empire owes everything to His Majesty's brilliance."
"Beautifully said! No wonder you're an Imperial Count. Such admirable devotion!"
The goblin beamed with satisfaction and even clapped his hands in praise.
Watching the duo shamelessly bootlick their emperor, even thick-skinned Mantou cursed in his heart, "Shameless bastards... Why didn't you bring me in on this?!"
"Indeed. Thinking of how much His Majesty has sacrificed for the Empire, I feel a surge of loyalty rise from deep within. I want to burst into a stirring rendition of the "Cassius Anthem": How can I ever repay such grace?..."
Mantou dabbed his eyes with sincere tears and joined this little cultural ritual unique to the Ember Empire. Only after a healthy round of ass-kissing did they return to business.
Staring at the 'Skyfire' armor, Singo pondered for a moment and asked, "Once we're equipped with this armor, our old wyvern riding techniques are probably gonna need a serious overhaul, huh?"
The goblin gave a small nod and replied seriously, "Yes, this armor represents a revolutionary change. The piloting techniques derived from it are vastly different from traditional riding methods. However..."
He chuckled, looked down, then continued, "With your talent, mastering this new gear will be a piece of cake. Sure, the equipment's changed—but from a technical standpoint, controlling a wyvern is actually easier now than it was before."
"Back then, it took me half a year just to barely control a wyvern and become a proper Wyvern Rider. You? You did it in half a day."
"Naturally, this time will be the same."
Singo was full of confidence.
"In that case, please begin training immediately! His Majesty's orders must be fulfilled—those orcs must be utterly wiped out!"
The goblin snapped his fingers again, and with a deep mechanical rumble, two massive iron doors slowly swung open.
What lay ahead was a wide, smooth runway stretching under a clear blue sky—custom-built for wyverns.
The glass display cases along the walls swung open too, and two brand-new sets of 'Skyfire' armor were extracted and laid out in front of them.
And it wasn't just the wyverns getting flashy new gear. Their riders also had matching outfits: a windproof jacket made from dragonbeast hide, and a helmet that looked just like a motorbike helmet.
Mantou eagerly put on the helmet. A translucent HUD screen popped up in front of him, pinpointing his current location, with red dots marked clearly on the map, along with detailed data in the bottom right—distance, altitude, wind speed...
The goblin explained, "This helmet works just like the Empire's previous tactical maps. You can use it to track yourself and your targets, execute precision strikes, communicate with Imperial ground crew, gather info, and receive live commands..."
Out on the runway, Mantou raised his hand with excitement. The contract on his wrist activated.
"Come out, Noodles!"
"Rooaaar——"
With a thunderous roar, the wyvern materialized in midair, then swooped down, kicking up clouds of dust as it landed in grand, majestic fashion.
Mantou pointed to the nearby armor, eyes sparkling. "Noodles, try that on."
"Rawr?" The wyvern tilted its head at the strange pile of metal, growling in confusion. What Mantou thought was badass armor, Noodles saw as a giant metal prison.
Thanks to its size and weight, the wyvern species already had a tough time flying.
Slap some massive hunk of steel on it, and it'd be a miracle if it could move at all—let alone flap its wings and soar through the sky.
Mantou got the message. He patted Noodles' head, gently stroking down its neck, whispering, "Don't worry, Noodles. I won't let this stop you from flying…
Just give it a shot. You might actually end up loving it."
"Rooaaar."
The wyvern let out a reluctant growl, rubbing its massive head against Mantou's shoulder. Finally, it gave a half-hearted nod.
"Heave, ho!"
"Little more to the left—yup, lock that wingplate into the socket!"
"Rawr?"
Equipping the 'Skyfire' armor was a meticulous process. Every component had to fit perfectly—like assembling an airplane with a living skeleton.
With heavy breaths, several burly ogre workers hoisted the parts, piecing them together and locking them into place.
At last, a fully-armored wyvern stood before Mantou—like a mechanical monster from the future.
"Holy shit, that's so badass!"
Mantou ran up and hugged the wyvern's claw, lovingly stroking the thick, finely-patterned armor with stars in his eyes.
But the wyvern still looked uncomfortable. It shook its body, trying to flap its wings, but the wingplates restricted movement so much it could barely budge them.
Mantou leapt onto its back. His suit clicked perfectly into place with the wyvern's armor, making them feel like a single unit.
"This one's the emergency brake, this one's the jet boost... and this one is..."
He fumbled with the "Skyfire User Manual" in hand, looking over the endless buttons and levers behind the saddle, totally overwhelmed.
After ten-plus minutes of trial and error, Mantou finally felt a bit more confident. He gripped the joystick—it felt nothing like flying a wyvern the old way.
Heart racing, he spoke into the intercom: "Requesting takeoff. Runway A01. Wind speed is..."
"Takeoff approved."
Holland's voice came through the other end.
Clutching the wyvern's neck, Mantou gritted his teeth. "Noodles, I'm still new to this, but... screw it. Let's go!"
"BOOM——"
The steel pipes behind the wingplates blasted out fire and gas, generating a huge thrust. Wheels on the wyvern's feet spun wildly, gaining speed, sparking from friction.
"ROOOAAAR——"
Noodles roared in alarm. He'd never dashed across the ground at this speed before.
"Holy crap, this... this is fast."
The brutal acceleration threw Mantou back, panic and exhilaration mixing in equal measure. He'd reached this speed before—but never this quickly.
It was like getting hit by a runaway tornado.
Wind roared around them. The lift beneath the wyvern's wings grew stronger.
With a howl of wind and a deafening boom, man and wyvern broke free from the earth, soaring up the ramp into the endless blue sky.
"Takeoff!"