The wind howled around them as they continued moving at high speed.
Aldric's expression darkened.
"Don't dump the tedious work on me just because I won't complain about it."
He tightened his hold on the half-conscious cultist.
"…Well. Not much."
Lyriana's expression did not shift.
"If there is ever a time you do not complain and simply act," she said evenly, "then next time I will not ask. I will handle it myself."
Aldric scoffed.
"Exactly."
He readjusted his grip again, keeping the cultist stabilized as they continued flying.
"If you already know I'm going to argue, why waste the breath? Just do it."
Lyriana glanced at him.
"Because cooperation is more efficient."
Aldric snorted.
"Sounds like unnecessary steps."
The cultist groaned weakly, barely conscious.
Aldric rolled his eyes.
"See? This is what happens when you push yourself past your limit."
He strengthened the stabilizing flow of mana just enough to prevent further collapse.
"Next time, don't act tough. You're useless to us dead."
Lyriana exhaled quietly.
"We will reduce speed briefly if necessary."
Aldric shot her a sharp look.
"Reduce speed? Now you want to slow down?"
She met his gaze evenly.
"Unless you would prefer he falls and we lose more time retrieving him."
Aldric muttered under his breath.
"…Fine."
He adjusted their velocity slightly—not enough to halt momentum, but enough to reduce the strain placed on the cultist's body.
"Happy?"
Lyriana did not respond.
They continued forward.
Lyriana and Vaelith took the lead, cutting through the night air in smooth, controlled flight. Their movements were efficient and deliberate, conserving energy between bursts while maintaining speed.
Aldric followed behind, the cultist still secured in his grasp. He kept the man stabilized, maintaining a steady flow of mana to prevent a complete shutdown—but the cultist's breathing remained uneven.
They did not stop.
Not for rest.
Not for recovery.
Only forward.
The landscape blurred beneath them—open plains giving way to forested stretches, then ridges of broken stone illuminated faintly by moonlight.
Hours passed.
The cultist's strength continued to dwindle.
His head drooped.
Eyes half-lidded.
Consciousness flickering.
But Aldric did not let him fall.
"Stay awake," Aldric muttered. "If you pass out, you're dead weight."
The cultist forced a weak nod, jaw clenched as he tried to focus.
Lyriana glanced back briefly.
"We are approaching the next waypoint."
Vaelith remained slightly ahead, scanning the terrain with practiced vigilance.
No threats.
No obstructions.
No pursuit.
Only movement.
Aldric exhaled sharply.
"Good."
He tightened his grip just enough to ensure the cultist remained secure.
"We finish this run," he added dryly, "and someone better hand me something strong to drink."
No one responded.
They simply continued flying.
Through wind.
Through darkness.
Toward whatever awaited them next.
The sky was beginning to lighten.
A faint gray glow crept over the horizon, bleeding slowly into the remaining darkness.
Dawn.
Aldric noticed it first.
"Damn it," he muttered, glancing upward. "The sun's coming up."
Lyriana and Vaelith continued flying ahead, their movements steady and precise, cutting through the air as if exhaustion were irrelevant.
Aldric followed behind, the cultist still secured in his grip. The man's head lolled forward, breath shallow and uneven.
Barely conscious.
But alive.
That was enough—for now.
They had already crossed two territories.
No stops.
No rest.
Only relentless forward movement.
The border of the next kingdom was close.
If they pushed hard enough, they could reach it before full sunrise.
Vaelith's voice came through the earring connection.
"My lord," she said, calm but carrying urgency, "the sun will rise soon. Should we seek shelter, or continue? We are nearing the border."
Below, Draven wiped blood from his hand and swallowed the last fragments of a beast core. Dense mana spread through him as he folded it inward, compressing and refining it with practiced precision.
The cat shifted within his clothing, letting out a soft meow. Draven broke off a smaller shard of the core and fed it to the creature. It chewed briefly, then settled again.
He did not slow.
He answered without hesitation.
"Can you cross the border at full speed? Stay low. Avoid open air. Clear the exposed terrain before sunrise."
Vaelith replied immediately.
"Yes, my lord."
Draven's tone sharpened—not angry, but exacting.
"Are you completely certain? If there is doubt, do not attempt it."
Vaelith paused only for a fraction of a second.
"Yes… I am certain."
Aldric muttered nearby, still maintaining flight.
"The damn sun's almost here."
The cultist hung limply in his grasp, barely conscious.
Draven's voice carried through the link again, firm and measured.
"If you are uncertain, do not gamble. Slow down if needed. I will not risk my siblings."
Vaelith straightened within her forming barrier.
"I am confident I can complete the task. I will ensure the young master and miss arrive safely. Not a single scratch, as you commanded."
Draven's gaze flicked toward the horizon.
The sky continued to pale.
The first hints of gold touched the edge of the world.
Time was narrowing.
"Then move," he said.
"No delays."
"Yes, my lord."
A faint red shimmer burst outward, encasing Vaelith in a streamlined barrier of condensed energy. It clung tightly to her form, reducing air resistance while shielding her from stray interference.
She lowered her altitude slightly.
Then shot forward.
Fast.
Purposeful.
Full speed toward the border.
Aldric watched her accelerate into the distance.
Then exhaled sharply.
"What the hell is her problem?"
His tone carried equal parts irritation and confusion.
The cultist mumbled something incoherent in his grip.
Aldric ignored him.
The question lingered in the wind.
Lyriana did not answer.
Draven's connection fell silent.
Vaelith became a faint red glimmer ahead, pushing toward the border with unwavering focus.
Time was slipping.
Dawn was coming.
And they still needed to cross.
Lyriana's voice cut through again, sharp and unwavering.
"It is the order of His Highness."
There was no hesitation.
No room for debate.
She surged forward, accelerating to match Vaelith's pace.
The air whipped violently around her as she cut through the sky, movements precise and relentless.
If there was danger ahead—she would meet it.
If there was time to lose—she would not allow it.
Aldric narrowed his eyes as he watched her go.
"The order, huh?"
He glanced toward the distant red barrier, then back at Lyriana.
She did not slow.
She did not elaborate.
Only movement.
Only purpose.
Aldric clicked his tongue.
"So that's how it is."
He tightened his grip on the cultist and increased his own speed to keep up.
The cultist groaned faintly but did not slip.
They continued forward.
Still crossing territory.
Dawn edged closer.
The first thin slivers of sunlight broke across the horizon, pale and distant.
Aldric cursed under his breath.
"Damn sun."
He adjusted his trajectory, slipping beneath scattered cloud cover whenever possible, using shadows to minimize exposure.
Lyriana did not look back.
Her path remained direct.
Efficient.
Full speed.
Orders executed without deviation.
Aldric exhaled sharply.
"So we're doing it this way."
He matched her pace.
No further complaints—at least not aloud.
The border was close.
If they crossed before the sun fully rose, they would enter safer ground.
If not—
He did not complete the thought.
There was no benefit in it.
They kept flying.