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"…"
I gazed up toward the sky. Two men, dressed in silk garments, were suspended gently in midair. As they looked down on us, their faces twisted into sharp, unnerving expressions.
Mages…?
Their faces were far too young for men who'd supposedly spent decades studying arcane secrets. Twenty-five would be a reasonable guess. The contrast between them was striking.
One had broad shoulders and a solid, well-proportioned build, resembling a knight more than a mage. A long staff hung from his waist like a sword. The man on the left had pale skin and long, jet-black hair, glossy as ink. Robust and strong physique, embodying the pinnacle of physical vitality. Yet, something was off.
His posture was warped—slightly hunched and twisted—as if something malformed was hidden beneath the surface. On its own, his features could be considered handsome. However, framed by that shadow and twisted expression, he radiated an aura that instinctively made me want to escape.
The red-haired man glared down with eyes full of contempt. "To think arrows...
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