The high-altitude air was chilly.
Nefarian stretched his wings, gliding smoothly above the clouds and leaving the sprawling mountain ranges and forests far behind.
Velin sat in the saddle, his coat whipping in the wind.
A short distance behind him, a thick, sturdy rope stretched from the back of Nefarian's saddle, tied securely around the waists of Ola and Ryo.
Ryo's eyes were closed as he focused on maintaining a pale cyan shield of air that enveloped both him and Ola.
They were like kites, being "towed" through the sky by Velin.
"By my old man's battle-axe! I've had enough!"
Ola's roar was twisted and distorted by the wind.
"This feeling of having my feet off the ground is making my bile churn! Ryo, can't you make this thing any steadier?"
"Lord Ola, I'm already doing my best." Ryo's forehead was beaded with sweat. "The Floating Technique requires a constant output of Mana. Between you and your full plate armor, you weigh almost as much as a small Ogre."
