Seated on a cloud that was speeding past the Mainland and onto the sea pockmarked with islands like blisters on the skin of a slave, Noel frowned and chewed furiously before spitting to the side.
He watched with a small smile as the wad of glowing, red substance that had come out of his mouth fell and caused a small explosion in the sea. Today, one of the islands was going to experience rainfall that would sting their skin and make them wish they had never been born, and with a pat on his own shoulders as he was impressed with how he was able to constantly outdo himself every time, he turned his head in the direction of the island they were heading to.
The guard was silent as always. Ever since he had gotten him, the man hadn't spoken a single word. Noel didn't care. After all, why would one care about the furniture lying around them?