"Ugh… I can't sleep…"

I'd been laying in bed for two hours now and couldn't get a wink of sleep. The room we were given was way too comfortable. Or maybe I just too used to sleeping with Ange. It hadn't even been a day, and I was already missing them.

Cresta was in the other bed, her back turned, and fast asleep. She had knocked out like a light upon hitting the pillow.

I quietly slipped out so as to not wake her up, then left the room to explore the castle. My first time in another world, and it was in an enormous castle floating in the sky. How could I not be curious?

These corridors looked like they were built for giants. I would have expected a place this enormous to be extremely cold. Quite the opposite, it was warm and toasty. Chalk that up to magic, I suppose.

In my solo dungeon crawl down the halls, I eventually came across an open door.

I peeked in to find a small study, no bigger than a bedroom and with bookshelves up to the ceiling. A hearth crackled with blue flames emitted a comfortable heat. Sitting on a lounging chair and sipping on a teacup was King Tarcosa.

"Couldn't sleep? Shall I call a succubus to your room?" he asked, glancing up from his book.

"Er, sorry! The door was open, so I got curious." I was about to leave but something transported me into a seat in front of the king himself. The door to the room shut behind me, and a levitating teapot poured me a drink.

"Cresta may have sharp hearing, but she cannot hear through pocket dimensions. I wanted to speak to you privately, but what I tell you must never leave this room. If you are willing to hear me, take the cup. You may also leave if that is your wish," the king said. The look on his face was somber, not like his cheerful and childish demeanor that befits the young appearance.

It might have been my imagination, but Tarcosa looked a bit sickly compared to earlier. His cheeks were gaunt, bags under his eyes, and face as pale as a ghost. I grabbed the teacup in front of me without hesitation.

"You have my word."

Tarcosa looked me in the eyes and said, "I will die soon. Change the age of my body as I might, my soul remains that of an old elf."

How was I supposed to digest this bombshell? I sat there dumbfounded, staring at him without so much as a word floating in my mind to say.

Never in my life did I experience or deal with loss. Not yet anyway. I understood that it was an eventuality I must face in time, including my own mortality. But the young man in me had kicked those thoughts to the back of my head.

King Tarcosa and I only met today. All I knew about him were stories from Cresta and what was shown on the news. However, hearing this man who I'd only just met today tell me that, punched a hole through my chest.

But the one who I was most concerned about from this revelation wasn't Tarcosa— it was Cresta.

"You don't think Cresta deserves to know?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I put her in your care and surrounded her with those whom she may easily befriend for her sake. Cresta must move on and forward in order to live a new life in your world. Choosing you as her caretaker was the best decision I've ever made."

It still felt wrong. After all, Irapesha's supposed death was agonizing Cresta all this time.

Tarcosa hopped out of his seat and warmed his hands by the blue flames. In doing so, he absorbed some of the colors until it turned red like normal fire. The color in his own face became less pale, as though it was the magic that sustained him.

"I kind of figured each of the tenants' circumstances were too related to be a coincidence. Really threw me for a loop trying to resolve their issues," I said.

"Good of you to notice. It further reinforces that I made the right choice with you." He turned around and smiled. "I was really worried about sending Cresta off alone, you know? She isn't like others."

"How do you mean?"

The king hesitated to answer. He returned to his seat and levitated a book from the shelf into his hands.

"Because Cresta was born to no parents. She is the first and last homunculus I created in my desperation to make the perfect weapon to face the demon threat. All these books you see here are of my research, but I stopped when I realized she was as real as you and me," he explained.

"You were afraid she wouldn't fit in?" I asked.

He nodded. "Fortunately, I was mistaken."

Tarcosa twirled his hand in the air and sent every single book down to a loose paper into the hearth, incinerating them out of existence in the magical fire.

"Her hearing was a defect I'd never been able to fix. You were able to do just that for her. Thank you," the old king said.

I saw in his eyes the withering soul of a man at the edge of his life, wishing nothing but the best for those he cared about. That was probably what made me so determined to go through with this. Whatever it took, I would bring Irapesha back to Cresta.

The next morning, Cresta and I were briefed about what would happen once we touched ground on Weyera. Their world was still swarming with demons, constantly fighting and breeding. A scarred landscape was made more volatile from powerful magics that ripped through to its core.

We were brought to a wide platform where several helicopters were just collecting dust. Pilots and engineers worked on the engines, not minding that we were traipsing over to the edge. A drop into the sky-blue depths was one step away, but I knew better what was beyond that veil.

"Take this. It's enchanted." Tarcosa handed me a dagger in its sheath. He helped me fix it to my belt. When I pulled it out, the blade glowed with yellowish energy.

"You know, a lot of people my age fantasize about being thrown into another world as an adventurer. I'm kind of scared shitless even with this in my hand…" I said.

Cresta put a hand on my shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. "Ange'll screw with my head forever if I don't bring you back alive. Let's survive this and bring Pesha back to eat burgers together!"

Her outrageous yet calm remark earned a chuckle from me.

"So, which helicopter are we going down with?" I asked.

"You get the express way down. Good luck, you two. Treat your own lives at the top of your priority." Tarcosa nodded, then parted the skies into the hellscape.

A bright, purple barrier surrounded and lifted us into the air.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit!" I panicked until Cresta grabbed my hand, but no amount of deep breaths was going to calm me down. As the orbal barrier moved off the edge of the platform, my feet dangled above what looked like hundreds of feet from the ground.

We descended into hell itself. Distant mountains were volcanoes spewing lava, black clouds orchestrated an explosive symphony of fire and thunder, and miles-long fissures threatened to swallow all that remained.

The barrier popped as we landed within a military encampment, itself protected by a similar yet much larger barrier, of human soldiers and armed netherfolks going about work. There were no buildings or barracks like in the terra-dome, but large tents and portals where people came in and out of.

"The high-king told me we would be receiving a VIP, but you're a lot punier than the other humans I fight with."

I craned my neck looking up. "Uh… N-Nice to meet you."

A large minotaur-like netherfolk with a greataxe propped on his shoulder came stomping up to us. Exposed pink flesh from old scars all over his body ruined the pristine obsidian coat of fur.

"Commander Qarth!" Cresta pumped fists with the giant creature.

"Ho there, Cresta. I and several others will be guiding you to where Irapesha was last seen. Shall we get going?" He thumbed over his shoulder to a mixed group of five netherfolks, races that I'd never seen before, veterans of a war no one wanted, all just as eager as Cresta to find their old friend.