They leapt upward, landing smoothly on Pymon's massive back. The feathers beneath their feet were cool, polished, and shimmered faintly with black-blue prismatic sheen, like starlight trapped under obsidian glass. The pressure around them lifted—Pymon's natural domain, creating a stable surface for passengers.
The Roclord didn't wait.
His wings unfolded across the palace roof like two eternal night curtains.
One beat—
BOOM.
They vanished into the sky, tearing through layers of space.
Wind didn't touch them.
Sound didn't reach them.
The world blurred into streaks of silver and black as Pymon flew with casual speed no aircraft could match.
Lily steadied herself beside Almond. "…Did John send you already?"
Pymon's voice rumbled directly into their bones. "Yes. He found him."
Almond's fingers tightened slightly on the feather ridge. "Where?"
"Baikran Academy. It's headed by a Grim Emperor." Pymon's tone changed. "Of course, he is weaker than me."
