Alix guides the flying carriage down slowly, the hum of mana crystals fading as the clouds part. Below, Sona City stretches out—its walls tall and sturdy, but scarred by past battles. Smoke rises faintly from repair sites near the outer barricades, and patrols of armed monsters circle the perimeter like restless sentinels.
He narrows his eyes. "No floating carriages around," he mutters, scanning the skies. The air above the city is clear—no other aerial vehicles in sight. "Better land before someone decides to make a scene."
"Good call," Mero says, lounging lazily in midair with his hands tucked behind his head. "If you land right in front of the gate, half the guards will panic before you even say hello. People living in this part of the continent are all country bumpkins."
