Chapter 491: The Rolls-Royce Airship

Gavinrad glanced at his iron war boots, then at the footprint that wasn't much smaller but was shallower. Indeed, it seemed so. He whistled, "Well, good news. It looks like that black lizard once greeted our Lord Markus with noble etiquette. Or should I say, he futilely attempted to learn the manners of nobility from our Duke?"

This slightly playful joke caused a burst of laughter among the group, easing the tension in their hearts.

"And there's Dragon magic." Mariam carefully examined the terrifying scorch marks surrounding the spot where Duke had once sat.

No spreading flames, only the purest control of fire. Deathwing's mastery of destructive power was unparalleled.

This discovery sent a chill down the spines of everyone present.

"What does he want Lord Markus to do?" Ronin grumbled.

Mariam stroked the place where Duke had sat, pointing to a mark, "There were clearly words here, written in magic, but the power of the flames erased them."

Vereesa's  pupils suddenly narrowed, "Perhaps it was these words left by Duke that slightly angered Deathwing, prompting him to demonstrate his power with Dragon magic."

However, Vereesa quickly found more critical clues. It was a white mark, seemingly made by a fingernail. She didn't know how Duke had done it, but when she focused on the mark, it enlarged at least three times, revealing two crystal-clear lines:

'I'm safe. Deathwing wants me to save Alexstrasza, at least we agree on that. I need your strength, but please stay at least an hour away from me, Deathwing might be nearby.'

It seemed like the end, but Vereesa suddenly discovered another line, even fainter and smaller, inscribed by the power of the wind.

No one else could see it except her, one who had been strengthened at the Storm Altar.

The first sentence was clearly, 'Have Ronin inform his guide privately; the key to breaking the situation lies with that one.'

After reading the second sentence, Vereesa was even more surprised.

She took a deep breath, finally controlling her emotions, "Everyone, come see this; I'm not sure if your eyesight can detect it."

After Ronin provided a magnifying glass, everyone saw Duke's message.

"What do we do?"

"Of course... follow him."

Back to Duke.

Duke was quite frustrated.

Only those who have dealt with him know that Deathwing is both an excellent and a clumsy director.

Excellent in his normal-minded schemes. Without the system, Duke would have been brainwashed just by carrying the amulet Deathwing had given him. What terrified Duke the most was that he had to continue playing this role; otherwise, he couldn't withstand Deathwing's wrath.

Clumsy in his choices when his madness took over—Deathwing, apparently impatient with Duke's slow pace, provided him a vehicle.

First, a massive oval object, like a rugby ball, made of various terrible leathers, came into view. Its craftsmanship made Duke skeptical; it might leak at any moment.

Next was the oval's tail, a smoking steam engine, clearly a propellant.

Yes, what appeared before Duke was a downgraded Zeppelin—a Goblin suicidal airship.

Azeroth is a magical world with both mainstream sword-and-magic and non-mainstream mechanical civilization. At this time, a crude steam engine was considered high-tech.

Even though the airship bore the clear emblem of the Horde, Duke knew it was Deathwing's gift.

Goblins—their integrity was equivalent to money.

As long as you could pay or offer what they wanted, integrity was absolutely for sale.

So these Goblins, who ostensibly served the Horde, were actually minions of Deathwing.

Just as Duke, the shadow actor, was pretending to consider whether to hide, a familiar voice rang in his head, "Don't be afraid; they are loyal to me. The Goblin airship will save you a lot of time, and both you and I are eager for the Red Dragon Queen's early rescue, aren't we?"

"Why doesn't the great Deathwing simply transport me there? Or tell me the spatial coordinates," Duke retorted.

"I am avoiding unnecessary battles. Besides, powerful mystical forces beneath Grim Batol resist all spatial transportation."

Duke muttered, acting as if the two red dragons slain by Deathwing the night before were mere wild bulls on a hillside.

"Fine, I'd rather exhaust my mana using [Blink] to travel than ride a Goblin's airship," Duke stated definitively.

"Get on; the Goblin airship is very safe."

Duke suddenly realized that Deathwing's words were in command format. The system prompt clearly read: "Deathwing is using a compulsory mental command, forcing you to obey."

Duke was frustrated; if he wanted to continue his actor's path, he must obey, or he would be exposed.

Duke's face softened, his eyes briefly vacant, his voice almost a murmur, "Alright, the airship will indeed be much faster."

In the end, Duke still boarded the treacherous ship.

He held the mage's special [Slow Fall] casting reagent—a [Light Feather]—in his left hand and silently repeated the casting spell for [Ice Barrier] over and over.

Although Goblins were unreliable, Duke was somewhat grateful. Looking down at the forest that had already turned into rugged mountains, Duke realized that if he had walked this path alone, avoiding the hundred-thousand Horde fortifications to the west, it might have taken not two days, but a full week.

Taking shortcuts wasn't always a good thing.

For example, the performance of the Goblin suicidal airship kept Duke's nerves on edge.

Various accidents occurred during the flight.

Often, after one mid-air repair, they had to deal with another emergency that had just arisen.

"Bang!" A loud noise startled Duke.

This time it was the main steam box leaking. The airship was driven by both water and oil, and if one part was working normally, the other was inevitably paralyzed.

Without exception, every moment.

Of course, whether it was a problem with the world's similarity or that 21%, Duke only realized now that the name of this airship was—Rolls-Royce's Screw Number.