“Such a colossal city in the clouds. And under it, this?” Eli shrugged, then eased Edlyn down, like setting a bird from his arms onto a rock.

Edlyn sealed Raphael’s voice with a brief silence spell, frost over his lips, and rested the black Holy Sword at his throat like a night blade.

They shadowed Raphael’s steps, slipping past Elf Race patrols like fish through reeds, till they reached the underside of the Elven City, drifting like a continent.

Below, a maze sprawled: a magic formation etched like a spiderweb. Inside, walls of black material rose like basalt cliffs around the sigils.

More walls were raised following the script of the formation, bricks laid where glyph-lines bent, like a river dictating banks.

Eli and the others stood by that maze, on a mountaintop the chisels hadn’t shaven, wind combing the grass like cold fingers.

“You’ve got guts, bringing us here so casually?” Eli smiled, eyes skimming the vast stone array like a hawk over terraces.

“The Elf Race levitates a whole city with one formation. I’m curious—what kind of drive does it feed you?” Eli’s voice was light, iron beneath.

“And inside the Elven City, almost everything is living wood. We both know giant sky trees drink deep—water and nutrients like rivers and loam.”

He paused, gaze dark. “How does a chunk of soil hanging in the sky give all that?”

Raphael drew breath, but Edlyn cut him off with a flick. “Don’t make it complicated.”

Eli chuckled. “What’s wrong, our Demonic Lord? Got something to say? Any complaints?”

Edlyn tested her legs, then sneered once she could stand. “Low horizons, huh. Why do they call them the Elf Race?”

“Uh… they don’t look human?” Eli frowned, scratching at the thought like bark.

“Seriously? You know so little about your own side?” Her words snapped like twigs.

Eli lifted his shoulders. “Can’t help it. The memories I’ve got are mostly studies on your Demon Race. Not much on us.”

Edlyn rolled her eyes. “Elves can move natural energy like breathing. Everything you said can be powered by them.”

“Huh? You mean any random elf can spit out that much water?” Eli laughed, tossing the image like a pebble.

“Tsk. Your brain, I swear.” Edlyn clicked her tongue, fog dispersing.

“You kept saying ‘energy.’ Their trees aren’t normal. With enough energy, they grow on breath and light. Every unit can pull ambient nature close.”

“You still think they need groundwater and wells?” She mocked, voice like a cattail whipping the marsh.

“...Trees that don’t need water…” Eli fell quiet, the thought sinking like a stone in a pond.

“It’s not that we don’t need water. We provide water in another sense,” Raphael said, voice careful as a lantern in wind.

He eyed Edlyn. “Uh… Miss, you do know a lot. I didn’t expect anyone outside the Elf Race to know this.”

Edlyn shrugged. “Know yourself and your foe, and you won’t lose. To seize the skies back then, first step was to break the Elf Race fast.”

“We dug deep here,” she said, chin lifted, waiting for praise like a cat in sun.

Eli sighed, then ruffled her small head, warmth rising like steam over tea.

To topple me, she studied this much, then wants me to praise her. Silly Demon King—adorably foolish.

Raphael’s eyes snagged on another thread. “Huh?” He blinked. “War? You’re going against the Elf Race?”

“Mm-hmm. Why? Can’t be fought?” Edlyn stretched, tendons singing; after riding the Hero’s back, standing felt like learning balance on a raft.

Eli stepped up, tapped her shoulder, grin crooked. “Elves sense energy waves, right? You don’t see it? This little one’s of the Demon Race.”

“What! Demon Race!” Raphael’s gaze sharpened like drawn steel. “Impossible. The Demon Race was wiped out.”

Edlyn narrowed her eyes. “Wiped out? Heh. Frog in a well.”

“Impossible. Every race on the continent united with the Hero, hunted the Demon Race everywhere. There can’t be any survivors!” Raphael’s jaw clenched like a lock.

“Thanks to your greedy leaders, we revived. Elf, you insult my race to my face—have you decided how you’ll die?” Edlyn’s smile was a knife.

Eli swept her into his arms fast, voice a calm brook. “Alright, alright. Don’t bicker with a bumpkin.”

Raphael studied them, unsettled, sweat like cold dew on his brow. “Then… sir, are you also Demon Race?”

Eli rolled a shoulder. “Nope. Human.”

“Then why stay so close to her? Don’t humans and demons have sharper grudges?” Raphael’s confusion rustled like dry leaves.

Eli pulled Edlyn in tighter, light as a joke. “No why needed. She’s my wife.”

Edlyn’s brow shot up; heat climbed her cheeks. “You! Shut up!”

Raphael wiped his forehead, tongue tied. He couldn’t understand; thoughts churned like leaves in a eddy.

The girl of the Demon Race looked fifteen, sixteen at most. The man had… special tastes, maybe. But why a demon?

Humans and demons were born foes, the kind who’d stomp each other the moment they met. It made no sense; the knot wouldn’t loosen.

If Raphael knew these two were the Demon King and the Hero from a century ago, he might drop dead from shock like a bird struck mid-flight.

“Back to business. Where’s the Tree of Life?” Eli’s tone turned steady, a blade sheathed.

Raphael’s face tightened. “You really want the Tree of Life?”

“No kidding. Why else risk getting spotted and follow you down here? Looking to get smacked?” Eli’s stare was flint.

“It’s… at the center of this formation. There’s a door. It leads to the Elf Race’s Tree of Life chamber.” Raphael bit the words, teeth on wire.

Better hand them to the elders and let them deal with these two, he thought, hope flickering like a distant torch.

“Alright. Lead.” Eli pointed toward the maze, then paused, seeing Raphael’s grimace. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the path.”

“No. No. I do.” Raphael inhaled hard, crushed the chaos in his head, and took point like a stag threading pines.

…………………………………………

“Little girl, if you release these old bones, I’ll heed your words. What good is caging me like this?” The elf elder sighed inside the crystal.

No matter what force he used, the only thing hurt was himself; the crystal showed no cracks, clear as ice on a lake.

After too many failed tries, he gave up and began pleading to the Anna outside, voice tapping like a stick on a door.

Anna stuffed him back in her bag, frown tight. “You’re so naggy! You think I’m dumb enough to let you out? Dream on. My target’s close. Keep quiet.”

“Little girl, when will you let these old bones out?” He persisted, words like dripping water.

“When this is over, I’ll let you go. You’re taking a slot in my divine orb, okay? You think I want that? Geez.”

Half an hour later, Anna was worn thin by his buzzing; the nag-nag-nag was a fly at her ear, wings never stopping.

The divine orb’s one flaw: it blocks harm and divine might, but language flows through it like sound through reed walls.

Her dad built it for interrogations—no way he’d silence prisoners inside. The design was a net, not a gag.

Anna puffed her cheeks. “Gotta make Dad fix this. He’s practically invincible now, doesn’t need to interrogate anyone anyway.”

“Little girl, why have you come to our Elf Race?” the elder asked again, the question a pebble tossed for the tenth time.

“Ahhh, you’re so annoying! Say one more word and I’ll bury you, and you’ll sit in this dumb orb for a lifetime!” Anna ground her teeth.

Silence dropped, a blanket over a noisy coop.

“Anna, Anna? What are you doing? Anna?” Just as she savored the quiet, her bracelet chimed, a call ringing like a bell.

She lifted her wrist. “Huh? Who is it?”

The bracelet projected a beam, a panel blooming in air like a moonlit window.

On it, a black-haired girl—seven-tenths like Anna except for hair color—frowned at her, eyes crisp as ink.

Anna grinned. “Oh hey, Alice. What’s up?”

“Mom and Dad told you to run a simple errand. Why aren’t you back yet?” Alice’s tone fell like rain on stone.

“Uh… I’m coming back. Coming back.” Anna gave a guilty smile, hands fluttering.

“If you don’t, Dad will come grab you himself. You know his temper.” Alice sighed, a breeze through bamboo.

Anna waved fast. “Okay, okay, I get it…”

“Honestly. You’re this big and still this careless.” Alice shook her head, weary as dusk.

“Hey! Alice, I’m your older sister, okay? Give me some face!” Anna protested, pride puffed like a sparrow.

“Oh? Then tell me, dear Anna—what part of you looks like a big sister?” Alice’s disdain was neat as a knife-cut.

“Ahhh, you’re all so annoying!” Anna clutched her head, groaning, the sound like a kettle boiling.

“Sis, I’m doing this for you. Try to understand.” Alice smiled, then thrust the needle. “As the eldest daughter, losing to your younger siblings is shameful.”

“Uuu, you’re my sister, okay? Stop it. Uuu…” Anna’s voice crumpled like paper, tears threatening like summer rain.