NEC Chapter 18: The Airship Journey South  

The fierce monsoon roared over the Gloomy Forest, tossing the treetops like waves in a stormy sea. A few falcons soared from the mountains, glancing at the massive black shape in the sky before instinctively veering away with a deft flap of their wings. 

All creatures have an instinct to seek fortune and avoid calamity. 

The enormous airship stretched twenty meters long, with two spindle-shaped balloons, one fore and one aft, suspending a double-deck cabin below. 

The upper deck was compact and refined, resembling a ship’s bridge, housing the control cabin and three exclusive VIP cabins. The lower deck featured a spacious open platform, with a few enclosed standard cabins along the edges and the rest designed as a communal bunk area. 

During the journey, Chen Mo stayed dutifully near his assigned rear cabin, leaning against the airship’s railing, gazing at the vast mountains and forests below. 

According to a burly mercenary in the next cabin, the depths of this forest hid isolated communities of "pointy-ears," sparking Chen Mo’s curiosity and wanderlust. 

As for the core figure of the group, the young lady who seemed to be the center of attention, she was likely in the upper VIP cabins. Chen Mo hadn’t seen her once, which left him slightly disappointed. 

Who doesn’t enjoy seeing a beauty? 

Unbeknownst to Chen Mo, Lady Frost, weighed down by tedious studies, had been sneaking plenty of peeks at his skeleton, Little White. 

Though the two groups had little interaction, Linda, the chief attendant, and Master Locke had reached a near-unanimous conclusion: Chen Mo was undoubtedly a wayward scion of a noble family’s lesser branch, fallen on hard times for some unique reason. 

“Why do you say that? I don’t see it at all, Aunt Linda. Tell me!” Lady Frost pressed. 

Linda had always taught the young lady to discern the ways of the world, so such mysteries naturally fell into the realm of social savvy in Lady Frost’s mind. 

It was also a perfect excuse to slack off from her studies. 

Seeing Lady Frost sneak to the cabin window, peering through the curtains, Linda suppressed her irritation and said gently, “Your Highness, please mind your posture!” 

“Alright, alright. But Aunt Linda, why do you think he’s a noble?” Lady Frost persisted.  With a sigh, Linda approached, lightly tapping the young lady’s back to straighten her posture, then offered an explanation. 

“He shows clear signs of refined upbringing. His speech is clear, he’s polite, and he sincerely thanks others for even minor help.” 

“But our manor servants do that too!” Lady Frost countered. 

“That’s only part of it,” Linda said, shaking her head. She carefully smoothed the young lady’s slightly mussed hair and re-pinned it. “Notice his habits. Some details can’t be faked. For instance, he washes his hands before every meal, a habit that requires years of training.” 

“Even you, Your Highness, need my reminders at times. But this young man? Not once has he faltered.” 

Lady Frost fiddled with her collar, embarrassed, and tried to change the subject. “So why say he’s from a lesser branch?” 

“I wasn’t finished,” Linda said, seizing the chance to gently chide her charge. “Another clue is that he’s clearly taken by Your Highness’s charm, as anyone would be, yet his gaze is one of admiration and restraint, not the crude, suppressed desire of a lowlife. Both Master Locke and I believe he’s seen enough of the world to carry himself with composure.” 

“As for why a lesser branch? His demeanor doesn’t meet the standards of a noble heir.”  “As I’ve repeatedly taught you, Your Highness, a mainline noble heir must adhere to strict protocols in every action, exuding authority at all times. This young man slouches, look, sitting on the floor like some coarse villager.” 

“Clearly, he’s from a noble family’s lesser branch, raised without inheritance rights, taught basic etiquette but shaped only by what he’s absorbed from his surroundings.” 

“He’s polite but lacks refinement.” 

Lady Frost’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh, that makes sense!” 

She glanced out the curtain again at Chen Mo, lounging with his legs dangling over the railing, taking in the scenery. A hint of envy crossed her face. 

“But noble etiquette is so annoying...” 

She didn’t dare say it aloud in front of Linda. 

With a reluctant last look at Chen Mo and the view beyond, Lady Frost returned to her desk, resuming her obedient facade. She picked up Noble Etiquette, her face nearly buried in its pages. 

Behind her, Linda watched the girl’s slight frame and the heavy tome, letting out a barely audible sigh. Sunlight streamed through the curtain gaps, casting dappled patterns on the polished floor. 

Commoners had their struggles, nobles their burdens. Each knew their own joys and sorrows.

Unlike the glum Lady Frost, Chen Mo was in high spirits. 

The Cloudmist guards kept their distance from him, the stranger, but in the neighboring cabin was a guide hired by the Cloudmist Domain, well-versed in the local terrain. 

This middle-aged mercenary, Luke, was clearly a seasoned veteran the moment Chen Mo laid eyes on him. 

Graying hair and a face etched with weathered lines made him look older than Master Locke, despite being only in his forties. 

Luke, however, was jovial. “In our line of work, living to my age with bones still intact, running errands for lords to earn a living? Ha, that’s the gods smiling on me!” 

With practiced ease, Luke loosened his tattered leather armor, its original color lost beneath clumsy patches, and carefully set his short dagger aside to signal he was unarmed. He sidled closer, took a swig from the bottle Chen Mo offered, and launched into tales of the continent’s unspoken survival rules. 

“Getting an identity? Easiest way is registering as a mercenary. But if you can avoid it, don’t become one.” “When I was young, I got suckered by those broke bards, thinking adventuring was glamorous. Traveling the continent, seeing grand sights, charming ladies, fulfilling kingdom quests, basking in cheers.” 

“Only when I started did I learn it’s tougher than farming, more grueling than mining, more dangerous than herding. Every copper earned is paid in blood.” 

“Don’t believe me?” 

Chen Mo waved his hands quickly. “No, no, I believe you! I’m just green. Tell me more!” 

He signaled a dwarven attendant. “Another bottle of wine, the one for forty coppers.” 

Luke’s cloudy eyes lit up, his Adam’s apple bobbing as a grin spread across his weathered face. 

Rubbing his hands excitedly, he said, “Oh, you’re too kind, little brother! Didn’t you already treat me to a bottle today? This is too much! Heh, heh...” 

His words protested, but his body eagerly inched toward the new bottle. 

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