The next day, dawn's first light glimmered.
Beside the road outside the Royal Capital's gates, Veylin reined in his mount and turned to look at his guards.
He took a heavy purse from inside his clothes and tossed it to the captain leading them.
"There are twenty Gold Suns in here. Return overland."
Veylin's voice carried an authority that brooked no argument.
"Don't skimp on expenses along the way. Make sure both the men and the goods reach Gray Marsh Fief safely."
"But my lord, your safety..." The captain clutched the purse, his face full of concern.
Veylin waved a hand.
"I'll go by air."
Beneath him, Nefarian let out a deep growl, as though answering his words.
The next second, those enormous wings unfurled with a thunderous rush, blotting out the sky!
Whoosh!
The wings whipped up a torrent of air, sweeping grass clippings and dust into a whirlwind that drove the guards back, leaving them barely able to open their eyes.
When they finally steadied themselves and looked up again, all they saw was an enormous black shadow launching off the ground.
Like a black arrow shot into the sky, it vanished into the clouds in an instant.
Wind howled past Veylin's ears.
The earth rapidly shrank beneath him.
The vast outline of Zellheim, the Royal Capital, soon became a blurred patch of color before disappearing beyond the horizon.
The sensation of flight was intoxicating. That freedom from the earth's restraints was something no land mount could rival.
Veylin sat securely in his specially made saddle, enjoying this rare peace.
Flying directly from the Royal Capital to Gray Marsh Fief would take no more than a day and a half. That was the unparalleled strategic value of a flying magical beast.
The flight went smoothly. Bound by their