Chapter 146: Chapter 146: The First Flight
The echo of rolling suitcases filled the terminal as Julian stepped into the airport, his breath misting faintly in the chill of early morning. One hand gripped the handle of his luggage, the other tucked in his jacket pocket, phone buzzing quietly.
David walked beside him, yawning into his coffee. Crest followed a few steps behind, her expression unreadable, scanning every corner with that same sharp calm she always carried.
Julian glanced back. "You’re coming with me, Crest?"
Before she could speak, David answered, "Yeah, we need her. You’re still underage, remember? Someone’s gotta be your official representative. Legal guardian, translator, all that fun stuff."
Crest simply nodded. "I’ll be brief. Once the signing’s complete and your place is properly arranged, I’ll return."
Julian gave a slow nod, but before he could respond, Crest added, "I’ll stay long enough to watch your match."
That drew a small smile from him. "Okay."
Together, they stepped through the sliding glass doors, the airport air a mix of jet fuel and distant coffee. Check-in came next—passports, tickets, luggage tags. Julian moved through the motions on autopilot, focus steady despite the weight of what lay ahead.
When they finally settled near the gate, David leaned back, tapping his tablet. "Once we land, don’t rush anything. You’ve got the medical check-up in monday. Pass that cleanly, and everything else follows. So rest, alright?"
"Count on me," Julian said, voice calm but firm.
He reached for his phone and saw the new notification—Laura’s message lighting up the screen.
[Laura ]: This is the link for the live. The match starts this evening.
Julian smirked softly and sent back a simple thumbs-up emoji.
If timing worked out, he’d be thirty thousand feet above the ocean when Lincoln kicked off their first Division One battle. But his heart would still be there—with them, under those lights, in that fight.
The announcement came overhead: "Flight 227 to Hamburg is now boarding."
Julian’s phone buzzed again. Another message.
He glanced down.
[Tress ]
: Careful. Safe flight.A small smile curved across his lips at the heart beside her words. Warmth spread through his chest, soft and grounding—one last tether before he stepped into the unknown.
Julian slipped the phone into his pocket, adjusted the strap of his bag, and took one final look around—at the city that had forged him, the sky that now beckoned him forward.
The terminal lights shimmered against the polished floor, and for a moment, he saw reflections—his teammates, their laughter, the field under golden sun.
Then the vision faded, leaving only the boy who would walk alone.
"Let’s go," he murmured.
Germany awaited.
...
As Julian walked down the jet bridge, his steps slowed.
Every echo pulled another memory from the depths—
The blinding white room.
The frail body he’d awakened in.
The day he first laced up his boots.
The trembling breath before his debut.
Every step since had carved him into something new.
Now, he was walking not just into a plane—but into another life.
The hum of the cabin greeted him as he stepped aboard. Rows of polished seats, soft light, the faint scent of coffee and fabric cleaner—everything foreign, yet oddly calm.
He slid into his seat, settling beside Crest and David. The leather cushions molded under him, smooth and cool.
"How long’s the flight?" Julian asked, fastening the belt across his lap.
David glanced up from his tablet, grin faint but knowing. "From Los Angeles to Hamburg? Eighteen hours."
Julian blinked. "Eighteen?"
"That’s not long," David teased. "That’s a journey."
Julian leaned back, jaw slack. "That’s not long—it’s a lifetime."
A soft chuckle came from Crest’s side. Her gaze stayed forward, calm as always, but her lips curved just slightly. "Endure it, Julian. You’ve survived worse than sitting still."
"Yeah, but I fought battles," he muttered. "Not boredom."
"Then treat it like training," she said. "Discipline of patience."
He groaned, sinking deeper into the seat, eyes drifting toward the window.
Beyond the glass, the runway stretched into the horizon—an arrow aimed at the unknown.
David stretched his legs, shutting off his tablet. "Enjoy the flight, Julian. Once you land, things move fast. No more calm skies."
Julian closed his eyes briefly, feeling the weight of those words settle in.
Eighteen hours.
Eighteen hours to breathe, reflect, and ready himself.
Soon, he’d touch down not just in another country—
But on the next battlefield.
...
Julian leaned back, exhaling softly. For all his strength, his scars, his battles... this? This was new.
His first time flying.
His first time seeing a steel beast carve through the sky—without mana, without runes, without spirit stones.
"Humans of this world really don’t know fear," he murmured under his breath, eyes gleaming. "They just... fly."
A stewardess appeared in the aisle, smile polished and warm as she began demonstrating safety procedures.
Julian blinked, following every motion with rapt attention—
Buckle. Vest. Mask. Exit.
So... this was the "cultivation method" for survival in the sky?
He almost laughed. "A rule technique for the airplane," he whispered to himself, amused.
Then, a chime.
The seatbelt sign blinked overhead, glowing steady like a rune.
Julian nodded seriously and clicked the belt into place.
Obedience to the rule. Always respect the rule of the realm.
A low rumble shivered through the cabin.
Engines stirred—soft at first, then rising, roaring like an awakened beast.
Julian’s heart thrummed with it, instincts prickling.
The floor trembled. The world tilted.
And slowly—beautifully—the plane began to move.
Faster.
Faster.
A surge. A roar.
And then—weightless.
Julian’s breath caught.
He turned to the window, eyes wide as the city shrank beneath a sea of clouds.
Buildings turned to specks, roads to ribbons of light, the sky opening wide above them.
He pressed a hand against the glass, lips parting slightly.
"...Incredible."
Wind no longer roared—only the quiet hum of power beneath them, steady and sure.
Julian stayed like that for a while, watching the clouds drift past like silent mountains.
For all his lives, all his strength—he’d never seen the world from this high.
Below, the earth curved gently into infinity. The sky stretched pale and endless. In this narrow seat among strangers, he felt the scope of it—how small one man was, how wide the heavens truly were.
For the first time in a long time...
He felt small.
And strangely—
Free.
A sky this wide could hold a thousand battles—and he would chase every one.