Just like everyone else, I found my seat and sat quietly, observing every detail around me. My gaze fell on the control cabin, where Marcelina leaned casually, still holding her glass, her nonchalant demeanor causing all the young men to blush.
I took a deep breath and resisted. She seemed completely at ease, as if this journey were just another ordinary day in her routine.
The balloon floated steadily, but the silence in the cabin was broken by Marcelina's voice, which echoed through the basket:
"The air above the clouds is thin," she began, with a calmness that felt more sinister than comforting. "It can cause fainting for some... and, rarely..." she smiled enigmatically, "some may even die."
The girls froze in their seats. Their eyes widened, and I could hear their quickened breathing. Although no one dared to scream, the panic in the air was palpable. "Is she joking? Doesn't seem like it..." I thought, analyzing her expression.
At that moment, a man dressed in white entered the cabin. He appeared to be the one in charge of the balloon so far. Marcelina greeted him with a casual nod and asked:
"Was there any problem along the way?"
The man shook his head, saying little, but with a serious look. He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a folded letter, handing it to Marcelina. As she took it, he whispered something that, with the help of the virtual lab, caught my attention:
"This is the permit to cross the Storm Lord's airspace."
Storm Lord? My body tensed at the mention of that name. "Who, or what, is the Storm Lord? It sounds like something I definitely don't want to encounter along the way."
The man quickly left, exiting the balloon and leaving us alone with Marcelina. She tucked the letter between her ample bosom without even opening it. It seemed she already knew its contents.
Then, she approached the controls, taking command with the skill of someone who had done this countless times. She turned the helm smoothly, pressed a series of buttons in sequence, and pulled a few levers. The balloon responded immediately. Valves began releasing jets of steam, and mechanical sounds filled the air as the balloon slowly gained altitude.
The basket vibrated slightly as the balloon started ascending again, cutting through the layers of air at a steady pace. Marcelina appeared unbothered, her eyes fixed on the controls and the indicators in front of her.
I leaned back in my seat, trying to relax as the balloon rose into the sky. My thoughts, however, wouldn't let me rest. As I looked around, the memory of the letter the man in white gave Marcelina replayed in my mind. "Storm Lord..." I murmured internally.
It was clear that magical creatures weren't just wild beasts. Just like in my past life, where human nations dominated territories and competed for power, it seemed that here there were clans or kingdoms of magical creatures, mages, and perhaps even supernatural beings who controlled their own regions.
"It's not so different from China, the United States, and the superpowers I once knew. But here, instead of technology and nuclear weapons, disputes seem to be resolved with magic and supernatural strength."
I found myself wondering: do these monster clans or territories have hierarchies? Leaders? And, more importantly, how do humans negotiate or coexist with these creatures? The permit letter seemed to be proof of that.
As I pondered, the balloon continued to ascend, piercing through white, cotton-like clouds. I couldn't resist the urge and leaned against the edge of the basket to look down. My heart raced as I saw the landscape below. The ground, which once seemed so vast and detailed, now looked like a mosaic of tiny, glimmering points, like jewels scattered over a dark background.
For a moment, a chill ran down my spine. The height was breathtaking, almost intimidating. But at the same time, there was something comforting about seeing the world from above, as if all the problems down there were small and insignificant.
I averted my gaze and returned to my seat. The balloon climbed even higher, and the speed suddenly increased, causing the wind to blow harder against the basket. Then, an intense ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, bathing the entire balloon in golden light. Some of the young passengers instinctively shielded their faces, trying to protect themselves from the glare.
I looked around and, to my surprise, saw Marcelina finishing the red liquid in her glass, staring directly at the sun without any discomfort. Her eyes gleamed, as if absorbing the light rather than being blinded by it.
I frowned. "Do mages have resistance in their eyes?" I initially thought. But then I realized the obvious: "It's not just resistance. The element of light and brilliance from the Tower of Sun's Peak isn't just aesthetic. It seems that sunlight is truly an ally of light mages."
In the corner of the balloon, Wallace waved enthusiastically. "Hey! Tyler, over here!" He was surrounded by some other Acolytes from the Tower of Sun's Peak, all laughing and talking loudly. A bottle of alcohol glimmered under the sunlight. I couldn't resist and stood up, walking over to them.
"Good timing, I needed something to wet my throat," I said, sitting beside Wallace.
"Hahaha... Just don't get drunk, or we'll throw you off from up here!" Wallace joked, handing me an empty cup.
I smirked and held it out to him. "I've got an iron stomach; I've never been drunk. Fill it to the brim."
Wallace laughed as he poured the drink. "I'm no lightweight with alcohol either," he replied, raising his own cup for an impromptu toast.
The others laughed and toasted as well, while the fiery liquid warmed our bodies against the chill of the heights. But even with the drinks, the journey remained monotonous. Every day, apart from eating, sleeping, and occasionally listening to Marcelina's instructions, there seemed to be nothing else to do. The boredom was almost tangible.
Ten days. Ten long days. Judging by the balloon's speed, I figured we'd reach the Tower of Sun's Peak sooner than I had initially calculated. But time seemed to drag on.
One night, the group decided not to sleep early. Instead, they gathered in a circle, tossed the bottle of alcohol in the center, and began chatting. The conversations ranged from jokes and absurd stories to musings about the future at the tower.
"Wallace, what's wrong with you?" I asked, noticing that he seemed uneasy and slightly uncomfortable. It was rare to see him so quiet, especially since he was practically the life of the group, always telling stories — real or not — with exaggerated details.
Over the past ten days, he had talked about everything: from his family tree to creating exotic dishes in the capital. His words, which at first had been annoying, had become the only source of entertainment on this tedious journey.
"Yeah, Wallace! I still want to hear how you got a pig pregnant!" James teased, provoking laughter around us.
Wallace rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smile. "I've told everything I know!"
"Oh, come on, you always have something to say!"
He sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up. "I can't think of anything else! I'm as bored as you all are!"
The peace of the night was suddenly shattered by a hoarse and powerful voice that made the entire balloon tremble as if it were about to break apart.
"Mortals? How dare you cross this airspace? You are courting death!"
My heart almost stopped. Before I could process what was happening, the starry sky above us vanished, swallowed by dark, turbulent clouds. Lightning began to dance among the clouds, lighting up the sky like sharp blades cutting through the darkness. The sound of thunder was deafening, each boom like a hammer strike to the soul.
Suddenly, the sense of imminent danger became tangible. It was as if the very air was filled with rage. I looked around; everyone was as terrified as I was. Even Oliver, always arrogant, trembled and fell to the ground, nearly crying.
Amid the chaos, Marcelina rose from her small throne in the control cabin, her posture straight, radiating authority. She didn't look scared. Her fists clenched slowly, and then her hands began to glow intensely with a light so strong it seemed to rival the lightning around us.
"Uhh~~" The screams of surprise and pain came from everyone in the basket. Instinctively, we all covered our faces, blinded by the intense light, and fell to the ground.
Marcelina's voice cut through the air like a blade. "I am Marcelina, of the Tower of Sun's Peak, and I have permission to cross this airspace. A permit in the form of a letter written and signed by the Storm Lord himself."
For a moment, the chaos stopped. The thunder silenced, and the sky seemed to hold its breath. Then, another hoarse voice echoed, filled with hesitation.
"What?! A mage from the Tower of Sun's Peak?"
Another, deeper voice responded shortly after. "Looks like there's a mage in the balloon… good thing we didn't attack without asking first."
As the tension slightly eased, something began to form in the clouds around us. Massive, indistinct shapes started to take form, as if the storms themselves were coming to life. They were storm elementals, composed entirely of dark vapor and electricity.
"Storm elementals," I thought, watching in both fascination and terror. They were enormous, humanoid in shape, but their bodies weren't solid. Their heads appeared like swirling hurricanes, with eyes that glowed like continuous lightning. Their arms were long and misty, ending in fingers that seemed made of pure electricity. As they moved, the sound of wind and rain echoed, mingling with the hum of electrical discharges.
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"Image here."
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