Sarandel glanced around, taking in the barren surroundings—a dirt road winding through the wilderness, flanked by a lone tree offering minimal shade in the vast emptiness. She let out an audible sigh, her frustration palpable as she brushed a strand of her shimmering silver hair behind her ear. The soft, celestial glow of her skin contrasted sharply with the rugged terrain. "Why am I here?" she asked, turning her piercing emerald eyes toward the figure beside her.
The man in the skull mask took a deep, distorted breath through his mask before answering, "Did you not hear me? I said, let's get started." He clasped his hands together for emphasis. "I even clasped my hands to punctuate the point," he added, as if that explained everything.
Sarandel crossed her arms, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly. "That doesn't mean anything," she countered, her tone firm. "Why am I here? Aren't you the one who's supposed to be taking care of that blue-haired child?" She asked, clearly unimpressed.
He chuckled, the sound distorted by his mask. "Don't worry about that," he said, his tone dismissive. "I'll handle him at my own pace. As for why you're here... well, why not?" He shrugged his shoulders casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Sarandel arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, her patience wearing thin. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice laced with incredulity.
He turned to face her more fully, the skull mask gleaming in the sunlight. "Listen," he began, his tone growing more animated, "all I'm saying is, this is your world, right? You fought to save it, to keep it yours. So why not have a bit of fun showing me around? Besides," he added with a hint of playfulness, "it gets real stuffy in that place."
Sarandel stared at him for a while, her expression softening slightly as she thought it over. She realized that she had little choice but to go along with his whims, especially since he was the one who had agreed to face the strongest Demon Lord on her behalf. "Fine," she finally muttered, her voice resigned.
The man in the skull mask pumped his fist in victory, his excitement almost childlike. "Heck yeah, Miss Goddess! Good on you for agreeing with me. I thought I was going to have to freeze you in time for a second there and drag you around with me," he said, a smirk evident in his tone, even if hidden by the mask.
Sarandel's eyes narrowed further, the golden accents of her irises glinting dangerously. "One, you can't do that," she began, her voice firm. "Two, speaking of time, how did we get here so fast? It took me nearly four days in Aetheria time to get to you from here, and yet this time it took only a night. And three," she continued, her tone growing more impatient, "where exactly are we?"
The man wagged his fingers at her, the gesture somehow condescending. "Tut, tut, tut, Miss Goddess," he chided, his voice dripping with mockery. "Did you forget my affinity? Of course, it took us less time to get here with me involved. As for your other question, uh..." He paused, scratching the back of his head, careful not to smack the two horns that adorned his mask. "I don't actually know," he admitted, his tone almost sheepish.
The Goddess of Aetheria stared at him for a moment before letting out a weary sigh, placing her hand on her forehead in exasperation. "How are you going to be the one to help me deal with Ercale?" she muttered, her voice heavy with doubt.
The man in the skull mask hesitated, his usual bravado faltering. "We-well, look at the bright side," he stammered, trying to recover, "we get to explore a part of Aetheria even you don't know." His attempt at optimism only deepened the frown on Sarandel's face.
"Co-come on, don't waste your looks by scowling at me. Smile!" he urged. Then, with a sudden seriousness, he added, "Speaking of which, you should probably stop displaying all your godly features, or else you'll bring us too much attention."
Sarandel stopped scowling, but her gaze remained pointed. "As if a man wearing a skull mask with horns won't draw attention," she retorted sharply. Still, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing inward. The celestial glow that once radiated from her skin faded, her shimmering silver hair dulled to a more ordinary shade, and when she opened her eyes, the golden accents in her irises vanished. Despite shedding these divine traits, Sarandel remained stunning, her beauty undiminished, yet now more human.
"Happy?" she asked, her tone flat as she glanced at him, presenting her altered appearance.
Skull Mask tilted his head, as if appraising her. "Eh, you're still too good-looking to not draw attention," he replied with a shrug, "but whatever. You could be wearing a trash bag and still outshine the stars in the night sky."
Sarandel narrowed her eyes at the compliment but chose not to respond. "Now, shall we start moving in a random direction?" he suggested, and without waiting for her response, he began walking down the dirt road, leaving her with little choice but to follow.
Just as they were about to set off, the low rumble of an engine reached their ears. They both turned to see a vehicle approaching from behind. It was a strange contraption that looked like a cross between a truck and a caravan, with metal plates bolted together in a haphazard but functional manner. Gears and cogs turned visibly on its sides, with steam periodically hissing from vents near the wheels. The vehicle's design was rugged and practical, yet there was a certain elegance in its rough edges, making it a perfect fit for the worn-out dirt roads.
"Well, isn't that just lucky?" the man in the skull mask said, his distorted chuckle barely masking his excitement as the vehicle slowed to a stop beside them on the dirt road.
The driver's window rolled down slowly, revealing a man with long, unkempt black hair. His sunken, sleep-deprived eyes were as dark as coal, and his smile was unnervingly sinister. "Looks like you two could use a ride," he said, his voice oily. As if on cue, the doors of the caravan creaked open, and four more men, all armed and with the same predatory grins, stepped out. Their tattered clothes and menacing presence made it seem like they were trouble.
"Want to get on?" the driver asked, his voice dripping with hospitality.
Sarandel gave the men a once-over, her gaze sharp and assessing, before turning to Skull Mask. He let out a distorted chuckle, his tone brimming with dark amusement. "I'm gonna love this world."