At dusk, the fading glow from the horizon painted the white walls of Leyndell in a magnificent rose-red. The Erdtree at the city's center appeared even more dazzling; its grand golden light not only illuminated a vast stretch of the night sky but also reflected off the glazed tiles of thousands of rooftops, bathing the entire Royal Capital in an atmosphere of divine sanctity.
Even at this hour, long lines of carriages and horses flowed through the twelve side gates. rchant caravans from across the Lands Between moved in ceaseless streams, loaded with rare minerals from the Far North, precision magical artifacts from the Academy's gate-towns, and spices harvested from the Weeping Peninsula.
If Leyndell were the heart of the Golden Dynasty, these caravans were the arterial vessels branching out from it, pumping life and nutrients through the veins of the empire. In the decade since the War of Unification, the world had effectively beco a single entity. The transportation barriers of the past were gone, and in their place, a new class of Golden Nobles had risen—wealthy, powerful, and utterly dominant over the "old money" elites of the Storm or Uld dynasties.
"Sister Lansseax," Lucia said, looking down at the boundless giant city while trying to steady his wavering heart, "how many people live in Leyndell?"
From this height, the city reminded him of a modern tropolis from his previous life—though its architectural grandeur was far more spectacular. It was a world of incredible contradiction: dieval aesthetics powered by the creativity of a world that used giant puppets and space portals like common tools.
"When I first ca here to preach ten years ago, there were about two million," Lansseax recalled. "But it has surged. I don't have the exact figures, but it is at least eight million."
"Eight million?" Despite his ntal preparation, Lucia felt a chill.
The records in Farum Azula's Great Library were decades out of date. His entire nation—including the Dragon Race, humans, beastn, and Misbegottens—did not exceed one million. The population of this single city was eight tis his entire kingdom.
"The gap is staggering," he said, his voice tightening with the weight of the realization. "Sister Lansseax, once we settle in, I need a full report. I want the count of Hero-rank figures, the deploynt of the military over the last three years, and the latest political and financial intelligence. The records back ho are useless now."
Lansseax watched him recover from his shock with such cold, rational focus. She felt a surge of pride and nodded without hesitation. "No problem. The Ancient Dragon Temple has its own archives. I'll have them organized for you within three days."
Outside the main western gate, the Golden Royal Family had finished their preparations. Lines of soldiers in gold armor and robes stood in neat squares on either side of the royal road.
On the left, ceremonial swords glead at every waist beneath flags emblazoned with the Erdtree. On the right, soldiers held silver Dragon Spears modeled after the weapons of the Wyvern Warriors, flying the banners of Farum Azula.
As Lucia and Lansseax approached, a cold autumn wind swept across the wilderness. The court orchestra struck up a solemn symphony. Between the forest of spears and halberds, the deep thrum of drums and the call of horns rose like a tide.
Boom.
A dull thud, like the shaking of a mountain, rang out as thousands of soldiers simultaneously struck their breastplates in a military salute to the two dragon shadows.
Imdiately after, the steady rhythm of footsteps echoed from the gate. Over a hundred Leyndell Knights in heavy gold armor erged to et them. On their chests, they wore the dragon-claw emblem—the symbol of the Ancient Dragon Faith.
At their head walked a burly man in gold and red armor. His left hand rested on his sword, and his right arm tucked a heavy knight's helt against his side. His face was a map of weathered experience, yet his eyes were as sharp as a well-maintained blade.
A step behind him, a youth followed—looking perhaps two or three years younger than Lucia. He watched Lansseax with reverence, but when his eyes shifted to Lucia, they darkened with a complex mix of awe, curiosity, and a faint, distinct hostility.
Lucia didn't have ti to dwell on it. The old man arrived before them and bowed solemnly.
"Respected Prince Luciassax—I am Forge Knight Ordovis. On behalf of Her Majesty Marika, His Majesty Radagon, and all subjects beneath the Erdtree, I sincerely welco your arrival."
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