Stop Talking

Tap.

When Ash and the others stepped into the mist, they also stepped into water. Dark, black currents kept spreading and rising, as if what lay ahead of them was not a city shrouded in dense fog, but a boundless sea.

And this sea was not expanding because of the ebb and flow of tides. The way the water overflowed made it seem as though something inside the thick fog was melting, and the currents were merely the blood left after it dissolved.

Yet with this White Mist so dense they could not see their fingers, and this deep-black ocean, no matter how many unknown dangers lurked within, the arcanists only felt an incomparable familiarity and intimacy.

Splash, splash, splash.

The arcanists in the White Mist turned back and saw the newly arrived Golden-Haired Demon struggling in the water. Ash reached out and pulled this drenched puppy up, forced to support her soaked waist as he asked, "Why aren't you flying?"

"I, I..." Little Lamb looked at the arcanists flying above the water, almost on the verge of tears. "I don't know how!"

Ash blankly glanced at the Jet-Black Wings on her back. "You've got Three Wings just like me! Can't you control them?"

Philly flapped the wings on her back with all her strength. "I can control them, but I don't know how to fly."

"Isn't it simple? You just flap them up like this, press them down, apply the profound principles of fluid dynamics, then repeat the cycle and you can fly." Ash directly held Philly and performed three and a half aerial spins. "See? Isn't that simple?"

It was not simple at all, okay!

Philly was shaken by the aerial spins until she almost wanted to throw up, and she clung to Ash like a frightened sloth.