EFWM 11

Chapter 11

Their eyes met.

A stranger, a man who looked about her age. And annoyingly enough, he was smiling.

Unlike Erica, whose sense of reason had fled, he had calm eyes—like the deep sea.

Erica frowned and glared at him.

“Who the hell are you?”

She didn’t welcome contact with strangers.

“Are you gonna let go or not? Put me down, now.”

A low chuckle escaped the man’s lips.

“If I let go here, I’ll die. We’re in the sky, remember?”

He said it so nonchalantly.

Erica seriously considered elbowing him in the gut to knock him off.

But that would be murder.

As she debated—

“…You bastard.”

She was suddenly pulled tightly into his chest. Practically buried in his arms.

His chest muscles, pressed against her back, were rock hard. Their bodies were stuck so close together, there wasn’t even a sliver of space between them.

“I said let go,” Erica said in a chilling tone. It was practically a death threat.

“Nope.”

Was he insane?

His voice rasped low like it echoed through a cave, making her ears tingle.

“Let go. I was here first.”

“Let’s ride together.”

“Do I look like I’m joking? I swear I’ll throw you off.”

“How’s a little thing like you gonna throw me off?”

“What?! Did you just—?!”

“If we fall from here, we both die. Can’t you stay still?”

The moment he finished speaking, the wyvern they were riding sliced through the air with a harsh gust.

Whoooosh!

They shot upward into the high sky.

“F—!”

Erica tried to curse, but swallowed it.

The wind rushing into her mouth made it impossible to breathe properly.

She didn’t know if it was the strong wind or the arm wrapped tightly around her waist, but her face was scrunched in discomfort.

“You…”

Damn it!

Annoying! Unwelcome guest!

She couldn’t think straight at the time, but looking back later—years later—it was kind of romantic.

Romantic?

Well, memory has a way of distorting things.

They were in the sky.

A ridiculously blue sky.

So high it made her ears hurt, so cool it made her skin chill.

Slicing through the air like a white paradise—who would’ve thought she’d meet someone there?

Erica was eighteen.

That was the day she first met Chaud.

A calm voice spoke from behind her.

“I lost my bow.”

The man behind her—still with his arm loosely wrapped around her waist—casually rambled about his situation.

“Pretty sure my quiver flew off somewhere too. I was wearing it on my back.”

“…”

Erica frowned.

That low voice in her ear—was it melting her brain?

What kind of voice is that?

Feeling weirded out, she jabbed him hard in the ribs with her elbow. She used her full strength.

“Don’t whisper in my ear. Your voice is creepy.”

“What? That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“I said stop!”

Her ears tingling, Erica rubbed them furiously.

The man chuckled.

“I lost a sword too.”

“What the hell—didn’t you say you lost a bow?”

“I lost a sword as well.”

“…”

“I usually carry two. Now I’ve only got one left.”

“So?”

That must’ve been the sword she saw stuck in the wyvern’s head earlier.

Who uses a longsword in an S-rank aerial combat mission?

This guy was insane.

“What the hell are you?”

Why am I listening to a lunatic’s complaints in the sky?

“Chaud.”

“What’s that?”

“My name.”

“I didn’t ask for your name. Are you with the Luygis Knights?”

“Nope. I’m a mercenary.”

He laughed.

His forehead, exposed by the wind, was pale.

His hair, tousled like watercolor strokes by the gusts, looked oddly beautiful.

What color is that?

At first, she thought it was black. But it wasn’t.

She had never seen a color like that—black like the night sky, with just a drop of blue in it. A mysterious shade.

An elegant, noble navy black.

He claimed to be a mercenary—so likely a commoner—but his hair color was way too refined for that.

“Why are you staring like that?”

“Your head.”

“Ahaha, doesn’t your neck hurt, looking back like that? I’ll lean down so you can get a closer look.”

He lowered his head, burying his face into her neck teasingly.

Way, way too close.

Now she could really see his face. His clean eyebrows, his lashes.

His turquoise eyes were impossibly clear—like a dive deep into the sea.

His long, slightly upturned eyes curved like a crescent moon.

And right below his left eye, a tiny teardrop mole.

Erica found herself staring at that seductive little mark… until their eyes met.

“Do you like what you see?”

“…What?”

“My face. You were staring awfully hard.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

Erica deadpanned, but Chaud didn’t react.

Instead, he leaned in further, reaching out the arm that had been around her.

“Let’s shoot that one.”

“What?”

“Pass me your bow.”

“Let go! Why would I give you my bow?!”

Who the hell did this guy think he was?

Erica, thoroughly annoyed, raised her bow.

She pulled the string tight—then let go.

Whoosh!

Thwack!

Screeee—!!

Whoosh!

Thwack!!

Screeeech!!

A rapid-fire burst of perfect hits.

She went to nock another arrow, and then—

“Whoa… that’s insane. What are you?”

Chaud muttered in disbelief.

“How are you that good?”

“I told you—stop whispering!”

She shook her head, annoyed, and fired more arrows.

Each flying wyvern, perfectly hit.

“What the hell are you?”

Chaud asked again.

No preamble, no context, no real desire for an answer.

As Erica lifted her bow again, he watched in a daze.

Then he suddenly made a maddening suggestion.

“Let’s hunt together.”

Erica instantly flared up.

“Hunt together?! With what weapon? You don’t even have gear.”

“I still have one longsword.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Erica snorted in disbelief.

What the hell was he going to do with a longsword up here?

Reading her expression, Chaud changed tactics.

“Wanna make a bet then?”

“What?”

“Let’s see who can hunt more before the sun sets.”

“…Are you mentally deficient?”

“Again, first time I’ve been told that.”

Chaud let out a silent laugh, his eyes curling with amusement.

“Count your kills. Let’s meet up at the settlement later. Don’t run away—that’d be boring.”

“Hey—!”

“Start.”

Whoosh—

He leapt off in an instant.

“…?!”

She didn’t even have time to react.

Was he insane? Jumping from this height?!

“Madman…!”

Erica frantically looked down.

Whoooosh!

Chaud was soaring up again, now on a new wyvern.

The rush of air.

The beating of wings.

Thwack!

SCREEEEE!!

The death throes of a wyvern.

Splash—!

Red blood sprayed across the sky like mist.

Screeches. Chaos. Roars.

All of it—the dying cries of wyverns being killed one after another by him.

“He’s insane… he’s really insane.”

He had to be.

Who uses a longsword in the air like that?

He jumped from wyvern to wyvern like stepping stones in the sky. It gave her chills.

As soon as he killed one, he’d leap to the next without hesitation.

How is that even possible?

This isn’t solid ground—it’s the freaking sky. There’s nothing to step on.

That wasn’t something a sane person could do.

He was truly out of his mind. The kind of person not afraid of death at all.

Even if he died right now, he’d just say “That was fun” and fall with a smile.

Just like her master.

“….”

Erica bit her lip hard.

She was caught up in an unnecessary feeling—adrenaline. Excitement.