A Journey That Changed The World.

Chapter 1672: Company Ships

Archer and Mira continued drinking while talking about the empire and everything about it. He learned the mouse woman was passionate about helping Draconia and its people thrive, but halfway through their chat, she turned to him. ʼʼI hope you know that I donʼt plan on sleeping with you?ʼʼ she revealed.

ʼʼIʼm not bothered,ʼʼ he replied honestly, downing the last bit of ale. ʼʼI have enough women and am not looking for any more. It would be too much, even for me.ʼʼ

When the young woman heard this, she giggled and nodded in agreement. ʼʼYes, over forty wives is too much for one man.ʼʼ

ʼʼDragon,ʼʼ he corrected.

They started laughing and continued drinking as the sun started to set. Hours later, Mira was tipsy as she turned to him, a stupid smile crossing her face. ʼʼDo you mind taking me back to the government section, please?ʼʼ

Archer nodded, grabbing her hand. The mouse womanʼs body went rigid at the touch, but in a blink, they vanished, reappearing on Draconia. He guided her to the staff quarters, murmured a grateful ʼʼThanks for the night,ʼʼ

He watched her stumble through the door. The Homeguard on duty froze mid-step, jaw slack; Archerʼs chuckle at the manʼs reaction rumbled low before he vanished. Back in his office, the glow of mana screens greeted him. Ella and Aisha were still hunched over the plans.

The sight tugged a tired smile across his face as he dropped into his chair. ʼʼLike everything, ladies?ʼʼ he asked, smirking.

ʼʼYes, weʼve gone through every plan. The only suggestion is expanding the hotels on Brightreef and Emberhaven. Have one legion guarding each island, 100,000 soldiers should be enough to keep order, and lastly, I suggest we add more dorms to Serenemire,ʼʼ Ella laid out.

Archer was surprised but looked at Aisha, who began talking next. ʼʼOn Verdantreach, we could build an underground farm using Earth Mana to test out Leiraʼs growing method, keeping it safe from outside eyes.ʼʼ

ʼʼInteresting,ʼʼ he muttered and then revealed his plans for the farming island. ʼʼI want to add all kinds of things to it; the amount of space left over after food production gives us just under half the land for other purposes.ʼʼ

When Archer finished speaking, Ella interrupted his thoughts before he could think of more things. ʼʼThere are many other ideas we could add, but what youʼve designed is a good start.ʼʼ

ʼʼYes, it is,ʼʼ he agreed, smiling. ʼʼItʼs a way to gather soft power from the other nations on Thrylos, and if my scans are correct, there are many other continents out there. So the five main continents need to be reunited before the outside world finally realizes how strong we are.ʼʼ

The two women nodded as Archer continued. ʼʼIʼm going to see Lioren, I just sensed him entering the palace bar, and will go talk.ʼʼ

ʼʼOkay, weʼre going to bed, itʼs late,ʼʼ Aisha commented.

Afterward, they each kissed him goodnight before retiring to their rooms, as they had been working all day. Archer, now alone with his thoughts, resumed sketching the islandʼs plans. When they left, his pen scratched across the parchment, creating more plans that he had just thought of.

He had already drawn the main footpath that would wind through the park, a ribbon of crushed basalt and moon-white gravel, wide enough for two carriages yet intimate enough to feel like a secret. Tonight, he refined the details: gentle switchbacks to tame the slope, hidden channels to swallow monsoon runoff.

Low ironwood rails carved with playful dragon silhouettes so children could trace the scales. At the pathʼs core, he sketched the first exhibit pen, a sunken amphitheater of mossy stone where a young thunderdrake could spread its wings. He added a service gate for staff behind the boulders; handlers would slip in unseen by guests.

Satisfied, Archer flipped to a fresh sheet and began drawing the staff quarters. No barracks around the park apart from the edges, he decided; these people would live among the monsters they tended. He drew small cottages hugging the inner cliff, each topped using a slate roof pitched steep against rain and a private porch facing the sea.

Between the cottages: a garden. He created the largest cottage as the Head Keeper, gave it an extra room for maps and journals, then paused. Wind slipped through the open window, carrying salt and the distant cry. He smiled and added a final touch: a covered walkway linking every porch, roofed in copper.

Let the staff move unseen between cottages during storms or simply walk at midnight. Following that, he decided to visit the Northeast and materialized above it, noticing a few fortresses built for the legions to train, but heʼd move them to another one to make room for the park.

He scanned the surroundings and spotted a perfect place for the harbor so the transport ships can land. Archer flew toward it, swooping down and landing with a thud as the waves lapped up against the beach. He rolled his shoulders and used Mana Manipulation to start creating the docks needed for the park.

White basalt blocks rose like obedient leviathans, water streaming off their faces. They locked together without mortar, edges touching. In minutes, the first pier thrust out to sea eighty feet long, twenty wide, its surface etched with runes that drank the salt and kept the wood beneath forever dry.

Archer walked the growing dock, boots ringing. At the end of the pier, he raised a second, this one hollow ribbed inside with ironwood beams. A crane arm unfolded from it, gears glinting, ready to swing crates from ship to shore. Along the landward side, he set bollards carved as coiled kraken, thick as a manʼs thigh.

Behind the main pier, he lay a grid of smaller docks, each angled to catch a different wind. Between them: shaded slips for the parkʼs vessels. A ramp curved into the shallows, wide enough for a wagon, gentle enough for a drake to descend without stumbling. On the beach itself, he created a warehouse to store stuff for the park.

Finally, he stepped back. The tide had turned. Beyond the breakwater, he set a line of floating buoys, each crowned with a crystal that pulsed soft amber, guiding ships safely through the reef at night. Once that was done, Archer smiled and let out a breath of relief before sending Ella a message using the dragon tattoo.

ʼEl, the docks are ready for the Company ships,ʼ he revealed.

ʼOh, how? We havenʼt sent anyone out there yet?ʼ she replied, sounding groggy thanks to waking up.

ʼI just built them,ʼʼ Archer answered, smirking as he could picture her shocked expression.

Following that, he teleported back to the palace and materialized outside the bar, where he sensed dozens of staff members were inside. He stepped inside and spotted Lioren sitting in the corner, staring into a glass. Without waiting, he walked across the place, catching everyoneʼs attention.

When he got close, the lion man looked up only to smile as he came out of his daydream, prompting Archer to speak. ʼʼEverything alright, Lio?ʼʼ

ʼʼYes, brother,ʼʼ his old friend answered. ʼʼYour Freya is special, not like other children Iʼve met.ʼʼ

ʼʼWhat do you mean?ʼʼ

ʼʼShe showed me a future where I died protecting them,ʼʼ Lioran revealed.

Archer couldnʼt help but chuckle when he heard this; a smile crossed his face. ʼʼOh, her and her time magic, sheʼs shown me so many I donʼt let them bother me anymore.ʼʼ

Without a word, Archer flicked his wrist. A ribbon of violet mana arced from his palm, sinking into Liorenʼs chest. In a heartbeat, the lion manʼs eyes widened, pupils flaring gold as every memory Archer had gleaned from his eldest daughter poured through the link, battlefields, betrayals, a childʼs laughter in the ashes.

Lioren threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound rattling tankards on nearby tables. He slammed a fist on the bar. ʼʼFour more, strongest youʼve got!ʼʼ

The barkeep, a wiry man with a scar across his face, slid four foaming tankards across the table. Lioren snatched his before the foam settled, blue eyes still bright with borrowed memory. ʼʼTwo and a bit continents,ʼʼ he rumbled. ʼʼYou stitched the world back together while I was chasing smugglers across the southern seas. Forty wives, an empire? Children?ʼʼ

He clinked his tankard against his. ʼʼI left a boy with a bad attitude. I come back to a god-king.ʼʼ

Archer drank deep; the ale tasted like pine and smoke. ʼʼBoyʼs still in here,ʼʼ he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ʼʼJust learned to delegate the sword-swinging.”

Lioren barked another laugh. ʼʼDelegate? You built docks with a thought. I watched you raise stone like it was clay.ʼʼ

The lion man leaned closer, mane brushing his shoulder. ʼʼTell me true, did the years feel long, or did you blink and the map redrew itself?ʼʼ

ʼʼSort of,ʼʼ he answered, laughing. ʼʼBattle after battle then the births, it all blended into one over the last four years.ʼʼ