Before long, Gustav arrived on his griffin, with Betty following closely behind. They landed in front of Mr. F and were greeted by the sight of destruction and the bodies scattered around. Gustav surveyed the area, ensuring that it was safe before approaching Mr. F.

"I assume Albert was kidnapped and brought here," Gustav said, his tone steady. "Were you able to neutralize all the attackers?"

Mr. F took a deep breath before answering, "Unfortunately, the mastermind and two of his followers managed to escape."

"Did you recognize their faces?" Gustav asked, his voice sharpening with concern.

"Even better," Mr. F replied with a grin. "I know his name."

Gustav's expression darkened as he realized the significance of this. This was no random assault on Mr. F's student. "Who is it?" Gustav asked, his voice low. "We can ensure they won't cause any more trouble once we leave the city."

"Does the name Daplumsebecken ring any bells?" Mr. F asked, watching Gustav's face for a reaction.

Gustav's eyes widened for a brief moment before his face twisted into a frown, deep in thought. He paused, then spoke cautiously, "I think it's best we discuss this matter at another time."

"Hmmm? And why is that?" Mr. F inquired, though he already had a feeling about what Gustav's answer would be.

"That must have been Levi von Daplumsebecken," Gustav said grimly. "His family is a well-respected noble house, even in the capital. The problem is his father serves directly under the king, granting their family many privileges that even high-ranking magicians don't enjoy. Had you killed him before he escaped, we could've erased all traces, but now..."

Mr. F understood the implications. By letting Levi escape, the situation had become more complicated. However, he remained composed, deciding to let the matter rest for now.

"Don't worry," Gustav said with a sinister smile. "The Daplumsebecken family stands against us. There will be plenty of opportunities to make them pay—far worse than death. We can hit them where it truly hurts—their commercial earnings."

Mr. F understood exactly what Gustav meant, and a wicked grin crossed his face. The unspoken pact between them was palpable, and they both seemed to revel in the thought of their shared vengeance.

Betty, however, felt a shiver run down her spine as she witnessed the dark exchange between Gustav and Mr. F. It was as if she were watching demons seal a deal right in front of her.

"Betty," Mr. F suddenly called out, breaking her from her thoughts.

Startled, Betty stumbled backward, nearly tripping over Albert's unconscious body.

"Take Albert and get on the griffin," Mr. F ordered, his tone firm but not unkind. "We've already wasted nearly an hour, and we need to leave. Until he regains consciousness, it'll be your responsibility to hold him and ensure he doesn't fall."

A faint blush crept up Betty's cheeks, but she nodded obediently and did as she was told. She climbed onto the griffin and gently propped Albert up, holding him securely.

Meanwhile, Mr. F went about burning the bodies of the fallen attackers with his magic, ensuring that no evidence of the battle remained. He gathered their spatial pouches and tucked them away, his mind already calculating what treasures might be inside.

Once the grim task was done, Mr. F mounted the griffin with the others, and together they soared off toward the capital.

About an hour after they left, Levi and the two remaining magicians returned to the scene of the battle. The meteor magician clenched his fists in anger as he surveyed the ash and scorched ground where their fallen comrades had been.

"You told us he had no combat ability!" the meteor magician shouted, his rage barely contained. "You said he was just an alchemist, Levi! I've lost four of my best men because of you!"

The lightning magician cut in before the situation could escalate further. "Calm yourself," he said, though his own grief was evident. "I've lost two good men as well—men I've known for over ten years. Now, all that remains of them is ash. I can't even give their families a proper burial. But the old man will feel the power of Levi's family soon enough."

Levi turned toward them, his eyes gleaming with cold determination. "Indeed. I'll be contacting my family in the capital. Naturally, I'll make a few adjustments to the story. If they show their faces in any city under our influence, they'll pay dearly for it."

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The meteor magician let out a frustrated breath, but he was slowly calming down. "I expect compensation for the families of my men, Levi. They'll need something to live on, at the very least."

Levi tossed him a heavy sack of gold, another one to the lightning magician. "Here's your promised payment—and a bonus. What you do with it is up to you."

Both magicians nodded and took the gold. Levi, however, turned away, his mind already plotting. He made his way back to the city, intent on contacting his family in the capital.

"This isn't over, old man," Levi thought to himself, his eyes narrowing as he disappeared into the forest.

…

It was already evening when Albert slowly regained consciousness. In his unconscious state, he had dreamed that he was lying on a massive, soft mountain made of jelly. The sensation was comforting, and as he drifted towards waking, he instinctively snuggled deeper into what felt like the plush hills beneath him, completely oblivious to what was really happening.

Suddenly, a gust of wind slammed into his face, forcing his eyes open. What greeted him was not the safety of a jelly mountain but the dizzying height of the sky, with rocky terrain looming below him. Panic struck him like a lightning bolt, and he screamed, convinced he was about to plummet to his death and shatter like a melon against the ground.

But something—or rather, someone—had a firm grip on his leg.

Mr. F, completely composed, hoisted Albert up by his ankle with an effortless motion. He barely spared him a glance, his eyes already focused ahead on their flight path. His expression, however, was clear—there was no sympathy to be found there, only a silent admonition for the spectacle Albert was making of himself.

Albert, still disoriented, caught a glimpse of Betty seated behind them, her face flushed crimson. She was covering her face with her hands in utter embarrassment, refusing to meet his gaze. Confused, Albert struggled to understand the situation, his memory a haze of events that ended with him being ambushed and knocked out.

His heart still racing, Albert pieced together that he must have been rescued. Clearly, he was unscathed and back with Mr. F and Betty, though the unknown man flying the griffin ahead was still a mystery. Despite the lingering confusion, Albert turned to Betty, eager for answers.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice shaky.

Through her embarrassment, Betty recounted the events to him—how Mr. F had left to search for him, confronted his kidnappers, and fought off magicians to save him.

Albert's jaw dropped as the story unfolded. He had always known his master was exceptional, but to face down multiple magicians, even when outnumbered, just to rescue him? It was overwhelming. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his nose began to run uncontrollably as the emotion took hold of him.

Without thinking, Albert lunged forward to hug Mr. F in gratitude, but he was immediately and wordlessly pushed back. Mr. F's look of disgust spoke volumes—he wasn't the type to welcome tearful embraces.

With nowhere to direct his overwhelming emotions, Albert turned and embraced Betty instead. His arms wrapped around her tightly as the flood of relief and gratitude poured from him. However, his joy was short-lived. Betty, her face still flushed, shoved him away in a panic, and before Albert could process it, he found himself once again dangling face-down over the mountainous landscape.

"I feel like this is becoming a pattern," he muttered under his breath as they continued their journey, Albert left dangling upside down with the wind rushing past his pointy ears.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, though Betty and Albert found it anything but ordinary. After traveling for several hours, they had hesitantly asked if they would be stopping to rest for the night. To their surprise, Mr. F had declined the suggestion outright.

"We're riding a rank 6 beast," Mr. F had informed them, his voice as composed as ever. "This griffin can fly for two days straight without rest."

Both Albert and Betty froze at his words, their nerves tingling with a mix of awe and fear. A real rank 6 beast! The very creature beneath them, soaring effortlessly through the skies, was as strong as their own master—a being capable of tearing them apart with a single blow if it so desired. The sheer power of the griffin was terrifying, and yet here they were, riding on its back like fragile passengers granted a rare privilege.

For the next two days, they only stopped briefly—just enough time to stretch their legs or answer the call of nature. Sleeping on the griffin's back became their only option, and to their surprise, they managed it. Its feathers, much softer than they had expected, provided an oddly comfortable bed as the beast sailed through the night sky.

Though Betty and Albert tried to get as much sleep as possible, they couldn't fully relax. Neither of them were mighty magicians like Mr. F, capable of going without sleep for extended periods. So, they clung to whatever rest they could find, while Mr. F stayed alert, his eyes always scanning the horizon.

Albert, however, found himself repeatedly waking up in the most peculiar positions. More often than not, he would drift off peacefully only to awaken with his face dangling perilously over the edge of the griffin's back, staring down at the dizzying heights below. It was a recurring nightmare—or perhaps a joke from the universe—that left him unsure whether to laugh or cry every time it happened. By the third day, it had become almost routine, though no less nerve-wracking.

But on that third day, something caught his eye, a sight that was far different from the endless forests and mountains they had been flying over. Instead of dense woods or rugged cliffs, vast fields of golden wheat stretched out as far as the eye could see, their long stalks swaying in the wind like an endless ocean of gold.

Albert tried to take it all in, his mind still groggy from sleep and the disorienting way he had once again woken up face-down. Despite the rushing wind against his face, he could hear Mr. F's voice cutting through the air from up front.

"We're almost there," Mr. F said, his tone calm but with a sense of finality.

Albert shifted slightly on the griffin's back, his heart pounding. The days of quiet were over, and soon, they would be stepping into the heart of the kingdom.