“Oh, what the fuck was th—!”

“Aaargh!” I groan as the bug suddenly changes its course, and the buzzing sound gets quieter.

Is it flying in the opposite direction now?

Am I dreaming? It can't just fly backward, can it?

"Ugh." Grasping tightly, I try to comprehend what just happened.

That loud bang echoing from the distance and the bug’s sudden behavior change can only mean one thing—Harald.

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Looking back at the wings, I notice one is twitching while the other flaps slower. The bug is still flying straight but is now slowly descending.

Standing with my foot still in its eye socket, wrapped in disgusting matter, I give it one more try to retrieve my weapon.

I wiggle the hammer, but I have no luck again. Despite being exhausted, and even though the hammer’s weight is adjusted to my strength input, I can’t fit it through the hole.

The squared and now enlarged hammerhead of my masonry hammer is perfectly wedged in the armored glass panel.

The curved dome shape that covers the second eye makes it even worse. Aligning the hammer with the square hole is impossible, especially with the flying fortress’s glide now being not steady and turbulence-free.

As I try to pull it out, but not only is the head stuck; the handle is too slippery for my sweaty palm.

I quickly check my surroundings. A simple glance at the distance is enough to make my head spin and the edges of my vision darken.

If I lose consciousness now or don’t stay sharp, I’m done for. To avoid falling to my death, I leave the hammer in the beast’s eye socket.

It slides in freely, bumping against the disgusting doughy eye and tilting to the side.

“What the…” Is this thing still alive or not? I quickly use my right hand to grab my left arm, locking myself around the creature’s horn.

With one leg on the saddle between the horns and my right foot buried in its eye, I check the wings again.

One wing cover is slowly closing, and the wings are moving even slower. I glance behind the creature’s tail and up to check the health bar.

Perfect!

It’s halfway down and still depleting.

Now don’t fucking die on me, or I go with you.

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Finally, my vision clears as the wind is blowing from behind instead of directly into my face.

My hair waves in the breeze, getting in my eyes and sticking to my sweaty forehead so I rub my face against the giant horn to wipe it off and push my hair aside.

Gazing into the distance, I notice a wide rocky formation.

Is this a mountain? It reminds me of Mount Fuji, but the top isn’t covered in snow. This must be a volcano.

I finally understand that all the beige color below is the desert. And this must be the desert Harald mentioned.

And is there supposed to be a car?

I try to focus on the surface below, but there’s nothing recognizable. I’m too high up.

How the hell did he not mention the volcano? It’s definitely visible from there.

Judging by where the forest meets the desert, the entire area seems to be only a few dozen kilometers wide.

What looks like just another, bigger mountain or volcano, with a gray landscape around it, leaves me stunned once again. I blink, trying to comprehend what I’m seeing.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The tall black formation resembling a castle that caught my eye while gaining altitude was indeed not an illusion.

Majestic and, compared to the volcano, unbelievably large.

A spark of megalophobia awakens in me.

The tallest, slim, and pointed tower, like a needle, pierces the clouds, surrounded by smaller pointed towers and courtyards.

How freaking big is this castle?

Despite being unimaginably far, it’s still very prominent. It wasn’t on the maps Astrid traced, and Harald didn’t say a thing.

I need to remember everything as clearly as I can now and make a map!

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But now, it’s time to focus on seating safely before looking around precisely.

That loud bang perfectly aligned with my stomp to the Rhinoceros' eye.

What a coincidence. It must have been him watching me.

What other weapons does he have? It’s impossible he did this with a pistol or shotgun.

What will he use next? A rocket launcher? I wonder as I glide on the bug toward the volcano and desert.

Despite the dying bug descending slowly, I need to stop sightseeing. At least for now and switch my position. Retrieving my hammer is impossible, and I’m even done trying.

I hear some loud crunching, like wood being chipped, and a vibration.

The handle is being chewed inside the bug’s head through the eye socket.

Gross and sad.

I sigh, wondering if the godling will be willing to help me again.

Still holding my hands together, I remain locked around the horn. My right leg is buried in the pulsating eye, and my left one is in the so-called saddle between the horns.

I shift my weight now with much more ease compared to the fear and effort it took to balance earlier.

*Swish*

I slide myself to the left and once again sit tightly between the horns. It’s a safe spot.

Still hugging the horn, I try to unstick my right leg. What I have to witness makes me want to puke.

As I pull my leg out, I’m surprised to see my sneaker intact. The dough ball is still moving, but not as fast anymore—it seems the thing is dying, and these are its last breaths.

I bet it’s making a gross sound too, but I’m lucky the wind is whistling in my ears, blocking everything else.

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After a few moments, I get comfortable and secure enough to study the environment again.

I scan the area, turning my head and blocking the wind with one hand next to my face.

I wish I had a helmet with a GoPro right now.

The black tower and that hauntingly deep pit. I gaze into it again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bottom.

Just a simple reflection or anything? Come on.

No luck. Maybe it’s bottomless after all.

Focusing back on the distance, I see the endless forest with trees of various heights and colors. It’s indistinguishable from bushes.

The light color and shadows tell me these are the crossroads where the knight was.

"Was." I chuckle.

The pile is still smoking, if I’m correct. Or maybe not—that gray stain rising upward could be anything.

The small castle ruin, where that bastard I’ll one day crush to dust is, is probably in that direction. I look confidently.

The misty area beyond is definitely the bamboo forest; there’s nothing else to see there.

A small settlement up ahead. Hopefully, it’s not another trap or zombie village.

Most of the farthest areas are shrouded in mist or are simply too small to discern.

I recap what I see.

The misty area with the bamboo forest, monkeys, and the fat merchant creature that vanished.

Maybe it’s back again. I wonder what the roaring that repelled us was.

Next to it is the castle ruin with the moss giant and the spider turtle cave beneath.

The dark woods continue to the right. This entire area is foggy and gloomy. Despite it being a bright day, this place feels ominous and unwelcoming.

The classic, endless forest takes up most of the area on my right.

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Time to switch myself in the saddle and get a clear look behind me. But now the wind will be in my face again as the bug continues gliding toward the desert.

Dang it.

I didn’t notice this before, but the trees seem to be getting taller? I blink and lean forward, squinting.

Holy crap, those trees are indeed growing taller and taller, rising exponentially.

Sequoias? I wonder.

I’ve always dreamed of seeing them in person. The best I’ve had were TV documentaries and so now I feel a surge of excitement as my inner to-do list starts growing.

Next is the desert, stretching out into the distance. The mighty dunes reflect sunlight.

I wonder how all these biomes maintain their climate despite being so close together.

From the misty, wet bamboo forest to the dark woods, transitioning into a classic European forest, then gradually shifting into giant trees. This fades into savanna before finally transforming into desert. The volcano, surrounded by tall mountains, stands out as the main focal point, with the pitch-black humongous mansion behind the lunar landscape.

After counting eight pointy towers, I stop.

The area next to it begins to show some color again, returning to generic woods.

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Since I’ve been gliding for a good ten to fifteen minutes, I can estimate where this bug will land.

“Hold up, buddy.” I look at it and instantly regret it, as my eyes meet its gruesome, lifeless eyes.

I lean back against the flexible horn and try to relax. There’s nothing else I can do.

Risking a fall is not my style and trying to steer it without my hammer is impossible.

The course looks good anyway. I reassure myself that I’m doing everything I can.

Landing in sand? What’s the worst that could happen? Some scratches and sand everywhere. From my hair to my undies.

I think about the myth of jumping before an elevator falls.

Should I leap off right before hitting the ground? Or will the bug regain consciousness during the flight and land on its own?

I check the health bar, which is slowly and steadily draining.

Wait, what if there’s something far worse in the desert?

No, no, it can’t be. Harald would have mentioned it.