“Leader, I thought you were good at talking, but you were also good at threatening. Anyone who heard it would be terrified.”

* * *

Pale golden hair that didn't lose its shine in the shadows of the forest. A high bridge of a nose that stretched in a smooth curve without a crook. Skin so clean and white that it was almost radiant.

The corners of the mouth, which rose cutely like a cat, were made up as if even the expressionless face had a fresh smile.

He was beautiful and dazzlingly handsome, to the point where the title of angel was not unwarranted. But the presence of his crimson eyes, tinged with an innate ease, greatly reduced the sacredness of his appearance, creating a strange eerie feeling.

Lydon of the Fairy Race.

He was no longer the scrawny fairy of a moment ago, but a stout human man who must have been at least 190cm.

“It's almost time.”

Lydon, who became a winged human being, sat on the floor, unassumingly, with colorful flowers and wild grass growing around him that did not match the gloomy atmosphere. Lydon plucked the beautiful flowers surrounding him one by one with an indifferent face. It seemed to be an unconscious habit.

“Is he usually this slow? Well, your commander is small. He may be a slow walker.”

Lydon, who had been plucking flower buds relentlessly, chuckled and turned to the side.

There was Van Herdos. Completely unconscious, he was tied to a tree, wrapped in rough vines.

“....Still, he was the most interesting human I've seen in a long time. Should I wait a little longer?”

Apparently unconcerned by the lack of a response, Lydon laughed leisurely and tossed the flower bud in his hand.

* * *

It wasn't that Cadel didn't have a surprise attack in mind, but he didn't have particularly high expectations.

The opponent could cast an illusion spell at any time. There was a high probability of getting caught in a trap while trying to ambush. So, the presence or absence of a surprise attack was not an important strategic choice for Cadel, but there was still a big difference between ‘not doing it’ and ‘not being able to do it’.

“Lydon! Over here! Save me! Save me!”

....The difference in mood was huge.

“Do you want to die?”

“These madmen cut off my wings! Avenge me! Kill them!”

Cadel stared at Aiden, who was confined in the [Wind Prison] and using up all kinds of evil, in dismay, and looked away as if he couldn't help it. Lydon's ‘hideout’ was not a very special place. He thought there would be torture tools or human corpses with white bones in the nature of the cruel fairy race.

After going through the entrance covered by bushes, what they saw was a small lake in the center and several old trees surrounding it. And a narrow field of flowers blooming under the shade, sitting on it with legs stretched out was.....

“Ahaha! Aiden, what is that?”