Naturally, Greg had considered asking Morpheus for help in finding their target. The thought, however, disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. Greg had once sought the deity's help when his teacher was on the edge of being completely crippled simply because Greg wasn't powerful enough to keep dissolving her mana pathways. Morpheus couldn't have been any less bothered by the prospect. Knowing that to his teacher, magic was just as important as breathing, ending up crippled would have been worse than dying for her. He hated to think about it but, had he failed and she found herself unable to walk the path of magic, Greg couldn't at all be certain that she wouldn't have taken her own life. Morpheus, however, was completely unmoved by all this. "Mortals die, Roka," that had literally been his answer to the plea before telling him that he'd have to get used to the fact. If the deity wasn't moved by the plight of someone so close to him, Greg wasn't under any delusion that Morpheus woul

When they arrived on the navigation floor, Greg had genuinely only been interested in the captain. His plan had been simple. Rather than let the captain do any investigations he'd have the man sequestered away and guarded by Olivia. He even had a few items from the magic shop that would act like a signal scrambler making any attempt to read one's mind that much harder, if not impossible. Of course, the items wouldn't be able to completely stop someone in the fourth-tier or higher, but it might just buy them enough time to make a difference. Greg would then find out from the man what his tests were for who was a genuine member of the crew and who wasn't. With the secret partition in his mind, not even a seventh-tier mind mage would be able to get the information out of him. He, however, never even managed to get that far. The stairs down didn't immediately lead to the floor where the captain and his crew worked. Instead, there was a short hall leading to a door through which one woul

These are zones that are under the control of some alliance that has no problem allowing air travel by airships that aren't under them, or beasts that don't bother with airships flying overhead. After white zones come golden zones. These zones are also safe to traverse, but you'll have to pay whatever power is in control of them if you don't wish to suffer their wrath, be they an alliance, individual, or beast," the captain continued to explain. Greg was once again reminded that, just because beasts weren't all that intelligent back on Earth, didn't mean that the same was true in this world. Hell, he had the equivalent of a talking lion on his airship, what would stop a powerful high-tier beast from controlling a given region and charging a toll on any who wished passage through it? "Unless one is in a rush, most airships tend to fly around golden zones," the captain added offhandedly. His expression then darkened slightly as he moved on. "We then have the grey zones. These are zone

After Ethavel and all the longevity treasures Greg took from Mage Hira and Grenad along with the governor of the city, Greg had used half of them to extend his expected life span by a little under four centuries. The only reason Greg didn't use everything in one go was simply that the other half was far too powerful for him to use at his present tier. Trying to force the issue would have led to him suffering more damage than he got gain. But even with only half for the longevity treasures, and the eighty or so years Greg had left to him when he took them, he would have lived to around four hundred on the low end, and four-fifty on the upper end. Killing Lord Faron, had only taken about two decades from Greg, and in his case, it was because they had two things going for them. The first was how quick the whole affair was. Theirs wasn't a long protracted fight. Instead, from Morpheus taking him over to the seventh-tier mage dying only about fifteen seconds had passed, if that. The seco

Greg had gone from room to room speaking with the ship's crew and asking random questions both about other members of the crew and different stretches of their journey. Greg had surprisingly come to learn that, for most of the crew, coming up to the deck was something they did once a week if they were lucky. They either operated, in the kitchens, or in cleaning the lower floors. Even guards that were assigned to floors below deck seldom came up to the deck. Only the wait staff and cleaners assigned to the deck got to come topside frequently. Like submarines back on earth, those who served on airships only came out every three to four months when they landed in a new town. Most of his questions about the trip thus only got him vague answers or blank stares from the crew. Questions about other members of the crew gave Greg a glimpse of the relationships among them. Like any place where people congregated, some liked each other, some disliked each other, some secretly pined for others,