"Creatures such as these... I truly have never seen nor heard of the like in all my days."
Saint Carmen sat atop the wyvern's back, gazing down as the terrestrial landscape rapidly blurred and receded behind them. After a long silence, he couldn't help but exhale a breathless marvel.
Even after living for two centuries, he had never imagined a day would come when he would ride high above the clouds, watching the world shrink beneath his feet. It was a sight that broadened his horizons all over again.
Glancing forward, he looked at Jeanne seated on the second wyvern, cradling a child in her arms. In the old Saint's eyes, the young woman had grown infinitely more enigmatic.
As his thoughts drifted, the pair crossed the border into Iberian airspace. Carmen could already spot the distinct silhouettes of Iberian structures far below. Traversed by land, this journey would have taken at least two full days.
The sky was indeed an alluring domain—a mysterious frontier much like the vast ocean. It was a tragedy that mankind had lost the means to sail the deep sea, while the boundless sky remained accessible only to this singular girl.
With a quiet sigh, Carmen brushed those lingering thoughts aside. Rather than dwelling on distant wonders, he needed to focus his mind on the daunting task ahead. Though Iberia was not suffering as acutely as it had during the dark years of the Profound Silence, its losses were far from negligible.
"You may drop me near the mobile city ahead," Carmen called out to Jeanne, pointing toward the distance. "I can walk the rest of the way on my own feet. Miss Jeanne, you still intend to inspect the coastline, correct? It is quite close from here."
Nodding, Jeanne guided her beast into a slow descent, bringing them to a gentle landing just outside the perimeter of the sprawling mobile city to set the old Saint down.
"Miss Jeanne, please exercise utmost caution near the shore!" Carmen warned, his expression turning solemn before parting ways. "The coast is far from safe—not merely because of the Seaborn, but due to the dregs hiding among our own people. Protect yourself at all costs. And above all, never allow those horrors to come into contact with these winged beasts. If the deep sea were to absorb the flesh and blood of such creatures, no one can predict what terrifying monsters they might spawn."
The old man simply couldn't rest easy without offering one final warning. He understood Jeanne's unique nature and the immense significance of her beasts; they carried the potential to deliver a crushing blow to the deep-sea threat.
Yet, by that same token, they could easily become the ultimate evolutionary catalyst for the swarm. Carmen would have preferred she refrain from summoning them altogether.
Jeanne nodded repeatedly in firm agreement. Knowing her foes possessed the terrifying ability to adapt and evolve, she had zero intention of deploying her wyverns directly onto that battlefield. Discretion was paramount.
"Take this as well. It is my personal token," Carmen added, handing her a worn emblem. "Carrying this will make your path along the coast considerably smoother. I take no pride in saying this, but some of the young judges in the Inquisition have grown terribly paranoid. They will instinctively treat a stranger like you with hostility. I ask for your patience in advance."
Carmen was no foolish ruler; he knew the reality of his own institution. He hoped his emblem would keep those zealous youths in line, preventing them from snapping like wild dogs at every unfamiliar face they encountered, only to break their own teeth in the process.
He knew how broken those judges were. Tasked with hunting hidden Church of the Deep cultists across remote villages, enduring nightmarish threats while constantly worrying about a knife in the back, it was only natural for them to develop an unhinged, defensive nature.
"I understand. Some folks simply have rough tempers," Jeanne replied understandingly. "I have plenty of patience, though if push comes to shove, I might have to resort to a bit of physical persuasion."
"Haha, that is simple enough!" Carmen waved his hand with a booming laugh. "If you encounter such stubborn fools, feel free to use force. We won't hold a grudge or harbor suspicion over a necessary lesson."
With a final farewell, the old Saint turned and marched rapidly toward the mobile city, his hurried strides betraying his urgency to take the reins back home.
"Now then... which way should we head first?" Jeanne murmured to herself as she cradled Fafnir in her arms.
The child rested obediently against her chest, quietly watching the sky while breathing in the fresh air.
Yet as the wind blew past, Fafnir caught the faint scent of the sea—and mixed within that ocean air was a peculiar stench she intensely disliked, causing her tail to twitch nervously.
It was an unfamiliar, bizarre odor. Though she didn't sense immediate danger from it, the slick, slimy sensation embedded in the breeze repulsed her deeply.
It felt as though an unwelcome bug were crawling across her skin. Instinctively, Fafnir pulled her head back, narrowing her eyes as she snuggled deeper into Jeanne's coat.
"Hmm? What's wrong?" Noticing the child's sudden retreat, Jeanne paused in confusion, looking down at the girl in her arms.
"Ugh... I smell something really gross," Fafnir muttered listlessly, slumping her shoulders like a sulking child.
Seeing her like this, Jeanne grew worried. She turned the child over, checking her from head to toe, but found no visible injury or illness. Concerned, she asked if Fafnir needed to stop and rest somewhere first.
Fafnir didn't answer immediately. She simply closed her eyes, swishing her tail back and forth as she thought the matter through in silence.
"No need! I just feel a little uncomfortable, that's all," Fafnir declared, snapping back to attention the moment she realized Jeanne was considering halting their trek for her sake. "Besides, those things aren't dangerous at all—they're just super annoying!"
She refused to let a bunch of disgusting bugs interrupt their journey, nor did she want Jeanne worrying over her. They were nothing more than a nuisance!
"You really don't want me to worry? Are you sure?" Jeanne asked, studying the small child before her. She wasn't entirely certain if Fafnir was putting on a brave face just to reassure her.
"I'm super sure! I'm totally fine!" Fafnir patted her own chest proudly, insisting she was already a mature kid who didn't need to be coddled.
Gazing into the child's clear, determined eyes, Jeanne decided to trust her judgment.
"Alright then, I'll take you along. But let's get one thing straight: if your body feels strange or you sense anything off, you must tell me right away!"
After careful thought, Jeanne chose to believe her. Deep down, she also doubted the Seaborn had evolved to a point where they could pose a genuine threat to Fafnir; if they had reached that level, any effort to stop them would already be futile.
Hearing Jeanne agree, Fafnir wagged her tail and shook her head in sheer delight. A warm smile broke across Jeanne's face at the sight. After taking her bearings, she decided to follow her instincts and head straight toward the coastline. Without a specific destination, trusting her intuition was as good a plan as any.
In the distance, the faint, rhythmic thundering of ocean waves echoed against the cliffs. Along the newly established coastline defenses, the judges of the Inquisition were growing increasingly uneasy—the Seaborn were becoming unusually active, displaying a bizarre, restless behavior that boded ill for the days to come.