As The sky around her stretched endlessly, a pale expanse of blue that seemed to swallow everything beneath. The wind whipped her hair wildly, tugging at strands like invisible fingers, making them dance across her face. Clouds drifted lazily, soft and bright, but their beauty did nothing to ease the storm of panic inside her chest.

Dila's tears glistened as they pooled in her eyes. "Okay, okay… I'll calm down…" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with every word. Slowly, tentatively, she tried to adjust her posture, shifting on the broom as if coaxing it to understand her fear.

But the broom wasn't cooperating. It wobbled and rotated just enough to make her heart race again, drifting sideways as the wind snatched at her robes. "H-help! H-help!" she screamed, her voice breaking and carried away by the open sky.

☆ Master, please! Don't panic! ☆ Nari's voice sounded in her mind again, sharp yet comforting. ☆ Focus on me. Breathe. You can do this! ☆

Dila swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she tried to follow Nari's words. But then her eyes drifted down, and her fear returned tenfold. The ground was still distanced no where to seen like the usual patchwork of greens and browns, impossibly far away. Her stomach lurched, ragged breaths clawing at her throat like she was sucking air too hard, too fast.

And then—a movement. A tiny speck far below, growing larger with each heartbeat. At first it was no more than an ant, drifting through the clouds, but steadily it expanded, becoming recognizable, deliberate. Relief trickled into her chest, fragile and hesitant.

"Professor…?" she whispered, her voice breaking, trembling on the wind. Her hands clutched the broom tighter, knuckles white, as the figure on the broom grew closer. The fear didn't disappear entirely, but it shifted into cautious hope, a tether to the world beneath her panic.

The clouds swirled softly around her as she waited, every gust of wind now carrying the subtle promise that she wasn't alone—that help was coming. The sky no longer felt like a prison, just a vast stage where she could finally catch her breath.

Meanwhile.

The wind tore past Professor Galahad's face as he propelled himself upward, broom slicing through the air like a blade. His robes flapped violently, buffeting against him, and every gust seemed to fight his ascent. He squinted, his glasses trembling in their frame, hair whipped by the relentless sky. His mind raced, furrowing with concern. Why would the princess suddenly surge upward like that? he thought, muscles tensing as he pushed against the air. Could it be… she poured too much mana all at once? That's why she lost control…

Above him, Dila clung desperately to the broom, her small hands white-knuckled around the shaft. Tears streaked down her cheeks, catching the sunlight and glimmering like fragile crystals. Her chest heaved, each breath ragged and trembling, and her eyes, red and wide with fear, fixed desperately on the figure approaching.

Finally the professor has arrived to her side levelling to her and hovering.

"High Princess! Grab my hand! Come to me!" the professor called, voice straining against the roar of the wind. His arm stretched toward her, steady and commanding, yet edged with worry.

"I… I can't… Professor!" Dila's voice broke, muffled by the wind. Her tears streamed freely, dripping into the air, her whole body trembling. "I'm… too scared!" she sobbed, bending over the broom slightly, clinging as though letting go would mean falling into the void itself.

Her legs shook uncontrollably, robes whipping wildly, hair plastered to her tear-streaked face. Each second felt endless as the distance between them seemed to stretch farther. Fear, panic, and desperation wrapped around her heart like chains—but above it all, a flicker of hope remained, anchored in the professor's outstretched hand.

The clouds swirled around them like soft, indifferent spectators, pale and serene, mocking the chaos of emotions in the sky. And in that vast, endless blue, Dila's small voice—frightened yet reaching—called again, "I… I can't…" even as she longed to.

The wind howled like a living thing, tearing at Dila's robes and raking through her hair as she clutched the broom with every ounce of strength in her trembling hands. The air was sharp and icy, slicing at her skin, making her fingers numb and her heart pound in wild, uneven beats. Clouds whipped past like furious white waves, turning the world below into an indistinct blur.

"Just… try, Princess!" Professor Galahad's voice barely reached her over the roar, though the edge of urgency was clear. His robes flapped violently around him as he adjusted his flight, broom cutting through the turbulent sky.

"P-please… Professor, I—I can't!" Dila shouted, her words nearly lost in the whipping wind. Her voice trembled as her left hand stretched toward him, quivering violently, frozen from the cold, her right hand shaking in mirrored fear.

"High Princess! Come on! Trust me! You'll be back on the ground in no time!" Galahad called again, smiling with reassurance, though sweat and hair plastered to his face betrayed his tension. His right hand reached toward her, steady and inviting, while he slowly drifted closer, careful not to startle her.

With trembling fingers, Dila lifted her left hand. Slowly… almost painfully… inch by inch, it inched toward his outstretched palm. But before she could make contact, a sudden surge of unseen mana shot through her broom. Without warning, it darted violently to the right, spinning her around, tossing her hair like a wild storm.

"Heeellllppp! Help!" she screamed, gripping the broom tighter as the clouds blurred past at dizzying speed. The icy wind whipped across her face, biting at her cheeks and tearing at her robes, making every second feel like an eternity.

"Tch… this is bad," Galahad muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing. He kicked his broom into high gear, forcing his mana into the winds, propelling himself forward. His robes flared behind him, a comet streaking through the cloudy sky as he surged after her.

How is she this fast? he thought, muscles straining and heart hammering. At this rate… I might not catch her in time.

Below them, the world was a distant blur of white and blue, dwarfed by the vastness of the sky. Above, clouds churned like restless seas. And in between, Dila's small form streaked past, a frightened yet determined figure, gripping the broom as though her very life depended on it—which, in truth, it did.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, eyes wide with panic, hair plastered to her tear-streaked face. Every swirl of air, every surge of wind, made her heart beat faster, and yet—despite the fear, despite the cold, despite the terrifying speed—there was a spark of determination buried deep within her chest. She had to survive. She had to trust the professor… somehow.

The wind howled like a raging beast as Professor Galahad urged his broom to shift more higher speed, his coat flapping violently against the storm of air. His eyes strained against the biting wind, locked on the faint silhouette of Dila far ahead... her silver hair streaming wildly as her broom tore through the clouds at uncontrollable speed.

He gritted his teeth. "Damn it... she's too fast," he muttered, his voice barely audible even to himself. He leaned forward, pouring more mana into his broom, but it only groaned and trembled under the strain. Sparks of magic flickered around him as the broom shuddered from the overload. The gap between them refused to close.

The clouds swallowed her shape, flashes of her outline appearing for seconds before fading again. His mind raced desperately, his heart pounding. Think, Galahad... think. He clenched his jaw, realizing the bitter truth. "When I got close to her earlier while she just hovered... I should've just used the teleportation spell," he said under his breath, frustration twisting in his tone. "If I had just teleport her Now—"

He stopped, the thought hitting him hard, his hand tightening on the handle. "No... if I teleport her now at this speed..." he muttered, eyes wide with realization. The image flashed in his mind — Dila, suddenly materializing on the ground, momentum slamming her into the earth, her fragile body hitting the forest floor or worse, the cliffs. His stomach turned at the thought.

"That's too dangerous," he said hoarsely, shaking his head. The cold air burned his lungs as he kept flying, his body fighting the relentless wind. "If I misjudge even by a second... she'll..." He couldn't even finish the sentence.

His grip trembled as he forced more mana into the broom. "Hold on, High Princess... please," he whispered, voice raw, almost pleading now. "Don't lose control..."

The broom creaked under the strain as he chased her through the violent clouds, his mind torn between calculation and fear. Each second that passed made the distance grow. Yet even through the storm, one thought burned fiercely in his chest.

I won't let you fall.

Meanwhile... Dila's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. The wind screamed past her ears, her whole body trembling, yet no sound came out anymore. Her lips parted slightly, but the fear locked her voice inside. She sat frozen like a statue, her hands clamped on the broom's handle so tight her knuckles still turned white but with a bit bruised.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it echoing in her ears. The world around her was nothing but rushing air and flashing clouds, everything spinning in chaos. Her hair whipped violently around her face, strands stinging her cheeks, yet she couldn't even blink.

Then... a faint, trembling voice broke through the storm.

☆ M-master... warning... warning... ☆

Dila's eyes flicked to the glowing display on the side of her vision. The system indicator was flashing red, pulsing rapidly.

☆ Your broom... can't handle the extra mana... it's burning out... ☆

Nari's frail voice was shaking, the alarm tone blending with the roaring wind. Dila slowly turned her head and saw it — the flame behind her broom had turned into a wild blaze, crackling furiously as the air whipped it brighter. The Bristles glowed fiercely white red, flickers of heat distorting the air around it.

"N-Nari..." Dila whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes shimmered in panic as the warning text flashed again before her.

[ System Overheat: Magic Output Exceeded Threshold]

[ Broom Stability Compromised]

☆ M-master, please reduce mana output... it's going to— ☆

The voice cut off for a moment, crackling under the noise.

Dila's lips trembled. "I... I can't stop it..." she said, her voice breaking as tears began to blur her vision. She could feel the broom trembling violently under her, sparks scattering from the rear. The fire behind it burned like a comet streaking through the sky, leaving a faint trail of smoke as she sped forward uncontrollably.

The storm of air tore around her, each gust threatening to rip her off the broom. Fear gripped her tighter than the cold ever could.

"Nari..." she whispered again, shaking her head weakly as the warning lights flooded her sight. "Help me..."

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