I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 522: To Arcadia

It was hard to believe that in a place like this, there would be an airport for airships.

If he hadn’t already been told and couldn’t hear the faint hum of energy and the rhythmic creaking of wooden platforms in the distance, Northern wouldn’t have believed it.

Even with all the anticipation, Northern’s jaw still dropped as they approached the airport. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight before him.

It wasn’t the sprawling metallic monstrosity he had known.

No, here, the airport felt like it had grown from the city itself, much like the rest of Elmuish.

Towering, twisted wooden pillars rose from the earth, their surfaces polished and intricately carved, stretching high into the sky.

They resembled ancient trees, their tops spreading out into wide platforms where the airships docked.

The docks themselves were suspended in the air by what seemed to be sheer will and the subtle shimmer of soul essence.

Thick ropes of enchanted wood, resembling vines, anchored the platforms to the ground, ensuring their stability even as heavy airships hovered above.

The ships—majestic in their own right—seemed dwarfed by the magnitude of the airport’s organic design. Their hulls gleamed with polished wood, blending seamlessly with the ethereal glow of the surrounding structures.

”Not what you expected?” Alystren’s voice was laced with amusement.

Northern shook his head. ”I don’t know what I expected... maybe more wood?”

Alystren chuckled. ”Look closer.”

Northern squinted, and as his eyes adjusted to the subtle lighting, he realized the docks themselves were laced with glowing lines of soul essence, flowing through the wood like veins in a living creature.

The entire structure pulsed with life, constantly regenerating and adapting to the demands of the airships that came and went.

The air was alive with activity—crews rushing to and from their vessels, passengers waiting in clusters, their voices blending into a low hum.

Above, a series of wooden walkways crisscrossed the sky, connecting the platforms like bridges between branches in a vast forest.

The sails of the airships flapped in the breeze, their designs blending elegance with practicality, as they bobbed gently in place, ready for their next journey.

”Still no metal, huh?” Northern muttered half to himself. ”How do these things even stay in the air?”

Alystren grinned. ”Soul essence, of course. It’s woven into everything here. Even the airships use it—lighter than air, yet stronger than steel. They’re bound to the wind and the will of the one who commands them.”

Northern exhaled slowly, shaking his head in disbelief. The complexity of weaving soul essence into runes, empowering the wood with extraordinary abilities, amazed him.

Northern had studied runes for a while and knew they were essentially a form of language in Trael.

But from what he had surmised, lacing them with soul essence wasn’t entirely impossible. It just depended on the person crafting them.

This only heightened Northern’s curiosity about the crafters and builders of Elmuish, and Sassex as a whole, even more than the city itself.

After some thought, he finally turned to ask his guide, ”Alystren, how are the builders of Sassex able to put something like this together? Do they have some hidden talent?”

Alystren shrugged, lightening the weight of Northern’s question with a slightly dismissive expression.

”What can I say? I guess they’ve just grown too accustomed to the nature of the wood. Think about it—wood has been an integral part of their culture for ages. Wouldn’t it make sense that over time, their crafters would have developed some secret, amazing abilities?”

Northern stared at him for a moment, then deadpanned, ”So you don’t know.”

”Not like that...” Alystren scratched his cheek, looking away. ”I’ve actually never thought about it.”

”It’s fine. I didn’t expect much. I’m just a little surprised because you seem to know so much already.”

”What do you mean by that? Hey, brat, it’s wrong to talk like that to your elder!”

Ignoring him, Northern asked, ”How do you know so much about this city anyway? Are you from Elmuish?”

”Me? No, no, no. It just so happens that I frequent this city more than others. It has a unique airship drive that channels to almost every nation in the Central Plains, even Reimgard.”

Northern felt his heart thump differently when he heard ”Reimgard.” He exhaled, dismissing whatever he had just felt, and focused on the present.

”So, where do we go from here, and how?”

”Follow me. Arcadia awaits.”

Northern, Shin, and Ryan followed Alystren through the bustling airship docks, the hum of the wooden structures vibrating beneath their feet as they wove through clusters of travelers.

Northern’s eyes lingered on the shimmering airships—each one uniquely adorned, their sails catching the wind with quiet elegance.

The crowd thinned slightly as they approached a grand wooden pavilion nestled near the edge of the platform.

Above it, a large sign was carved into the polished beams: ’Elmuish Airship Bureau.’

Alystren strode confidently toward one of the counters, waving casually at the guards who gave him only a passing glance.

It was clear he was no stranger to this place. Northern, on the other hand, was still trying to take it all in.

The intricacies of the bureau were a wonder in themselves—desks carved from the same enchanted wood, pulsing faintly with soul essence, and glowing runes etched into the surface, constantly shifting as though alive.

A bored-looking clerk sat behind the desk, flicking through a series of papers.

He barely glanced up when Alystren approached. ”Heading to Persone?” the clerk asked, his tone flat but familiar.

”No, not this time. I’m going to Arcadia,” Alystren replied with a grin, his hands resting on the counter. ”And I’m bringing guests.”

Behind the old joker’s grin, Northern could swear he saw hints of suppressed anger.

The clerk finally looked up, his gaze shifting toward Northern with mild interest. ”Arcadia, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. ”I don’t think you’ve been there in a while, have you?”

”The streets of Arcadia are unforgettable. Like it or not, I’m drawn there. Please give us four tickets.” Alystren finished with four fingers pointed at the clerk.

Northern remained quiet, watching Alystren handle the exchange with interest.

It was strange to think that someone as inconspicuous as Alystren had connections, though he supposed that was part of his charm—never revealing more than necessary.

”How soon are you planning to leave?” the clerk asked, drawing a few runes on the counter. The inscriptions glowed briefly before fading again.

Northern discreetly observed the clerk’s hands until Alystren leaned in slightly, blocking his view.

”As soon as you can get us on board.”

The clerk hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin before glancing at a glowing panel beside him. ”Next ship to Arcadia departs in two hours.”

Alystren nodded. ”Perfect.”

The clerk reached under the counter, pulling out four wooden tokens—each intricately carved with the emblem of Elmuish and glowing faintly with a soft blue light. He slid them across the counter.

”These will get you on board. You know the drill. Second-tier platform, follow the guide lines, and present these to the boarding officer.”

Alystren scooped up the tokens and handed one to each member of the group. They inspected them for a moment.

The craftsmanship was stunning—smooth to the touch yet imbued with a strange power that thrummed against Northern’s fingertips.

”Thanks, old man,” Alystren said with a wink.

The clerk rolled his eyes, waving them off as he returned to his paperwork.

Soon after, they reached the designated platform where a small group of passengers had already gathered, each holding similar tokens.

A tall figure wearing a wooden breastplate—decorated with more soul-etched designs—stood by the boarding gate, checking tickets with casual authority.

Alystren flashed his token first, and the boarding officer merely nodded before gesturing for them to proceed.

Northern presented his own token, and for a moment, the officer’s eyes lingered on him.

There was no recognition, no suspicion—just the brief acknowledgment of a newcomer.

The officer placed a hand over the runes on Northern’s ticket, and they flared briefly with light before fading.

”Welcome aboard,” the officer said in a gruff voice, stepping aside to let him pass before turning to the rest of the group.

Northern followed Alystren onto the wooden walkway leading to the airship.

He took a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of anticipation as the wind swept through his hair.

Above them, the majestic airship awaited, its sails unfurling slowly, shimmering under the gentle glow of the city’s light.

He glanced at Alystren. ”What’s Arcadia like?”

Alystren smiled, though there was a touch of mystery in his eyes. ”You’ll see soon enough. It’s not a place easily put into words.”