"Hah... we're so high up. I really, truly, from the bottom of my soul, hate flying."
I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could Folia be this strong? I actually thought the bastard had used the very last of his strength to save my life back there, but looking at him now, it was obvious. The prick had intentionally let me dangle on the edge of death just to see how I'd react. He'd watched me struggle like a bug under a heel while he held a mountain of mana in reserve.
But why even get angry anymore? Folia wasn't just a prince; he was a refined, golden piece of shit.
Thanks to his Anemo Magic, we were soaring over the Isle of Nightmares as if we were on a leisurely Sunday stroll. As if being suspended thousands of feet in the air by a psychopath wasn't bad enough, the little witch Yulea finally decided to wake up. Her first contribution to our survival? Screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Bäh! You stink! You're a disgusting sewer rat!" she shrieked, clutching her brother's neck while glaring at me.
You stupid little brat, you'd better sleep with one eye open, I thought, my jaw aching from the pressure of holding back a retort.
But the real disaster was only just beginning. Jessica—the silver-haired "Angel" of death currently tied up on my shoulder—decided that now was the perfect time to regain consciousness. She didn't just wake up; she went into a full-blown panic. She started thrashing and bucking against her shadow-silk bindings like a wild mare.
As it turns out, Folia might be a god-tier swordsman, but he's a terrible pilot when his "cargo" starts fighting back. He lost his grip on the air currents. The wind sheared, the mana fractured, and suddenly, we weren't flying anymore. We were plummeting.
Folia and Yulea disappeared into a dark canopy of trees below, right into a clearing crawling with Shadow Beasts. I, on the other hand, had a much worse fate. Jessica and I were flung toward a jagged, yawning crack in the earth—a literal abyss that seemed to lead to the island's very core.
I could have died. Anyone else would have died. But no, I have to be like a damn cockroach. I have to survive everything just so I can suffer more.
I hit the walls of the ravine repeatedly on the way down. Crack. There went a rib. Snap. There went a branch. It was five minutes of freefall through a tunnel of jagged obsidian and cold mist. When I finally slammed into the floor of the abyss, the impact vibrated through my teeth. But the "best" part?
Jessica, in all her silver-armored glory, slammed right on top of me.
Compared to a scrawny "Demon" like me, this woman is incredibly heavy. She's dense as a lead statue. "Ugh, she's mies fett," I groaned, the air leaving my lungs in a wheeze.
Oops. I think I thought out loud again.
She immediately delivered a brutal headbutt to my nose, her eyes burning with a mix of fury and embarrassment. "Untie me this instant, you peasant!" she hissed, her voice echoing off the damp walls.
I stared at her, blood dripping from my nostrils. Do I look stupid? "Do I look like a servant to you, 'Lady Angel'?" I spat, trying to push her off.
It took every ounce of my remaining physical strength just to shove her aside. My body was a disaster zone. My left foot, the one I'd patched with shadow-bones, felt like it was about to ignite. My shoulder was a pulsing knot of agony, feeling like a four-fold pyro-ball had detonated inside the joint.
But the worst part was the stolen magic. The Sawing Sun of the Four Colors was a volatile parasite. My internal organs felt like they were being roasted over a slow spit. The magic was too big for me, too hot, and it was trying to burn its way out of my ribcage.
I looked at Jessica. I wanted to kill her. It would have been so easy to just leave her bound and let the dark things in this pit find her. But a cold, logical part of my brain stopped me. Who knew what horrors lurked in this abyss? If I wanted to get out of here alive, and if I didn't want to deal with a vengeful Folia if he survived his own fall, I couldn't just execute a high-ranking Knight of Nordara. Not yet.
I had to force myself to stand up, a process that involved a lot of swearing and several failed attempts. Jessica, of course, was already on her feet, despite being tied up. She stood there, regal even in rags, watching me with a look of pure loathing.
I ignored her and looked up. The "entrance" was a tiny, distant speck of grey light, thousands of feet above. There was no way back up. The walls were sheer obsidian, slick with moisture and some kind of black slime.
"Great," I muttered, my voice echoing in the hollow space. "We have to go deeper."
I didn't want to go through the abyss. Down here, it was dark and claustrophobic. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of stagnant water, ancient rot, and the lingering metallic tang of death. It felt like the island wasn't just land, but a living organism that had swallowed us whole.
I looked into the darkness ahead, where the tunnel narrowed into a throat of black stone. Somewhere above, Ilea was still in a cage. Somewhere in the trees, Folia was killing monsters. And here I was, trapped in a hole with a woman who wanted my head on a pike.
"Welcome to the nightmare," I whispered to the shadows.
Until next time.