I stared after Abigail for a moment, mouth open, but no words coming out. I wanted to go after her, to beg her to reconsider, but I wasn’t sure what I could say. Indeed, she’d made the decision based purely on what I did say, and unless I was willing to come clean and speak the truth I couldn’t see Abigail changing her mind. As such, as much as it hurt my heart, I could do nothing but let her go.

“It’s for the best,” I told myself. “She would have come to hate me, eventually, regardless…” I didn’t know why I’d been so scared of the idea. When I thought about it, her eventual hatred had always been a foregone conclusion. After all, I intended to abandon my people to the heroine, and flee into the sunset. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d ever actually liked me to begin with. We’d simply gotten to a point where she could tolerate me, for a while, and now we were past the point where she could do so. It was best to think of it that way. I had already learned the bare basics of how to cook, anyway. I could probably figure out the rest on my own. Though I’d still need to find a teacher on how to do laundry.

Below me, Abigail’s wings opened. She came to an instant halt, before a window, and moved toward it. She was somewhere in the vicinity of the sixtieth floor, and I could only imagine she intended to let me pass before heading back up again. The very fact that she’d descended at all, when her home lay above, spoke volumes about how determined she’d been to put distance between us with what magic power she had left at her disposal.

Well, whatever. I would honor her decision, and fly past the window when I reached it. I would not follow her. I would not. I was washing my hands of her. 

Or that was my intent, at least. But then Abigail’s wings suddenly snapped shut. Her hand, outstretched toward the window, snagged hold of the ledge for a moment, but then the weight of her body slammed against the wall and she lost her grip. She was falling down below me, tumbling end over end.

Abigail. The closest thing I had to a companion. The one who was so close to figuring out my secret I could cry. The one who chose to leave me. For a moment, seeing her fall, my mind almost went blank. I had been in the midst of such a torrent of emotions already that I simply didn’t know how to process the event. Yet even as my brain started to shut down, a single thought was running through my conscious, bringing with it an overwhelming impulse. Abigail was in trouble; I needed to save her.

There were many times in the past that I allowed myself to fall, while flying. It was generally accepted to be the easiest way of reaching lower floors. It saved magic power, and since it was easy enough to stop there was little risk associated with it. Just because it was the easiest way of reaching the lowest floors, however, did not mean that it was the fastest. If one truly wished to go somewhere in a hurry, and one was not afraid of the risk of descending too far, there was a far faster method at one’s disposal.

Turning about in midair, I pointed my head toward the ground and moved my wings to flap at the air. I did not flap once every few seconds, as I had so far, but instead kept beating my wings as strongly as I could manage. I poured magic into my flight, simultaneously casting a spell to lower my wind resistance. My mental image was a cone of condensed air, moving with me, helping me to cut through the sky at a speed that would make bullets green with envy.

In an instant, I had overshot my goal, and found myself at the fortieth floor to Abigail’s fiftyish. That was fine, though. I dropped my spell, and cast another, blowing wind magic up toward me and flapping my wings to come to a halt. Then I righted myself, using my wings to hold myself in place even as I continued to send wind rushing up above my head. The gusts I  created caught Abigail, slowing her descent enough that I could safely grab her, and pull her flailing form against my chest. She was deep in panic, arms and legs flailing about, but I simply held her against myself and waited for her to calm.

“Are you alright?” I asked, once Abigail had stopped moving about.

“I… You saved me?” Abigail whispered, disbelief clear in her voice. As dark as her eyes were, I was absolutely sure her pupils were focused on mine.

“Who are you?” she asked, again.

“I am Devilla Satanne,” I told her again. “The demon queen. And your mistress.”

“...I quit, though…” Abigail’s voice sounded numb. Perhaps that was to be expected, though.

“Then you can quit again after we are home,” I told her, firmly. “I will not listen to it until then.”

I expected her to object, but Abigail didn’t say a word. Instead, she gave a slow, unsteady nod, furrowing her brow and looking me up and down once again.

“...In any case, we are here,” I declared. The number “40” was drawn in golden paint above the nearest window. It twinkled lightly in the sunlight, as if to welcome us to our destination. 

Landing lightly on the windowsill, I hopped down onto the narrow strip of landing that hugged the edge of the tower beneath it. I was careful, and made sure Abigail had proper footing, before turning my attention to looking about.

This area was just like in the game. A narrow staircase, winding its way around the outer tower, with empty space where the floor should be. The only solid space, other than the staircase, was a single, massive, iron plated column that started on the thirty first floor and continued to the ceiling of the fortieth. There were perches attached to it, where the various harpies rested. A platform extended from the column, as well, where the floor of the fortieth floor would normally be. The landing I stood on, which marked the end of a long staircase, was connected to the aforementioned platform by a bridge. Another bridge extended from there to more stairs on the other side.

All of this was part of what we referred to as “the battle path,” a narrow route that encircled the tower, leading from the front door to my own throne room. It was the path that human invaders had to take, since they had neither the strength to scale the tower nor the ability to fly. It was a route that the rest of us avoided, for the most part - but it was impossible to avoid when visiting Mifa and her harpies. In fact, other than the battle way, Mifa’s territory didn’t directly connect to the rest of the tower at all. Travel from the forty first floor to the thirty ninth was done through a staircase hidden in the hollow column. If one wanted to directly commute between these floors and the residential districts of the tower they would be forced to use the windows. We didn’t even have a teleportation circle set up for these floors, just to make absolutely sure invaders had no other routes available to them. It was a setup possible only because we had so many flyers.

The ruler of those flyers was currently on a perch, which looked somewhat like a gymnast’s high bar. She was, as one might imagine of the harpy general, a cross between a woman and a bird. That is to say that she had short, bird-like legs, which connected to a mostly human body at the thighs. In place of arms she had wings, reminiscent of a hawk. Both the wings, and her skin, were a reddish brown.

Just like in the game. Mifa wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes. Neither were the other harpies.

“Queen Devilla!” Mifa called, surprise evident in her voice. “I’m sincerely surprised that you’d get off your fat ass to come see me.”

“I was driven by a great and powerful need,” I told her, not bothering to protest the insult. “I’m quite sure it’ll seem petty - but you will listen to it, all the same, won’t you?”

“As if I had a choice,” Mifa laughed, shrugging her shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to bob, and the way those soft hills jiggled had me momentarily entranced. The bright pink peaks, standing in firm contrast to the dark skin, were practically begging for a kiss. 

It was too bad Mifa had to open her mouth and ruin the effect. 

“I’m curious what would drive such a spoiled girl as you to action, anyway.”

“I need a map,” I said, repressing my annoyance in favor of getting straight to the point. Mifa was never one to hold her tongue; the longer I was here the more insults she would fling.

“A map?” Mifa asked. “Are you planning to go somewhere, my queen? There’s a lot of humans out there, so I really can’t recommend it.”

“I think I am powerful enough to take care of any humans I meet; but I’d rather avoid them. Which is why I was hoping for a map that included human settlements on it.”

“I’m sure you could handle it,” Mifa agreed, shrugging again. I tried my best to ignore the little bounce of tits that accompanied it. “But the heroine will be of age, soon, and I’d rather you not instigate an attack earlier than necessary.”

“As would I - which is why I ask, again, for maps of human settlements?” The last thing I needed was Lucy arriving on my doorstep before I finished my lessons. If I had to flee the tower before I even learned how to do my own laundry, I really would be helpless.

“Sorry - I can give you data on where our settlements used to be. You know, the ones we had to abandon when we all moved into the tower? The ones under the open skies? I hear they were nice. Don’t suppose you have any intention to help the army reclaim them, any time soon?”

“Not at the moment,” I confessed, speaking through gritted teeth. “I’d rather focus on our utter lack of intelligence at the moment, though.”

“Really? I must admit to being curious about that myself - just how dumb are you, Queen Devilla?”

“Dumb enough to put you in charge of reconnaissance, apparently,” I growled, unable to contain it any longer.

Mifa stared at me, coldly. When she spoke she did so slowly, as if talking to a child. “My girls can only fly so far in one sitting. Then they need to land. They aren’t like birds, either, who can just rest a bit before taking to the air. They need time to regain their magic energy - time preferably spent in a safe place. Except there are no safe places outside the tower, anymore, Queen Devilla. Especially not out near the human territories.”

“...I see…” The flames of my ire were doused almost instantly. Mifa’s words made an uncomfortable amount of sense, especially in light of what had just happened with Abigail. The dedicated flyers could probably go farther, but they would still be limited in how far. They probably wouldn’t have energy to spare for illusions, either, meaning that they’d be spotted if they flew above a human settlement. That would make it even harder for them to find a place to land. There was no way they could properly survey the lands, like that.

“...Very well, then,” I conceded, with a sigh. “I will settle for an out of date map - so long as it lists the continent, and our current location, I should be able to make… Is something the matter?” For some reason, Mifa was staring at me.

“I expected you to kick and scream about wanting my girls to do their jobs,” Mifa admitted. “Honestly it’s a little unnerving to have you act so reasonably. Or, well, reasonable for you anyway.”

Abigail, who had not said a word since reentering the tower, gave a firm nod at this.

“...Well. I’m sorry for unnerving you with my lack of tantrums. If you’ll get me the map, I will be on my way and the two of you can speak at length about how miserable my attempts at being reasonable have made you.” Perhaps that was a little harsh, but I was honestly still upset about what had happened with Abigail.

“Why do you want a map?” Mifa asked me, clearly not in any rush to fetch me one. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“I intend to go see the ocean,” I told her. “So long as it is within Five… no, even six hundred miles should be fine. So long as it is within that range, I should be able to make it back before nightfall.” I wasn’t afraid of running out of magic, even on a longer journey. I couldn’t use magic to increase my aerodynamics and cast an illusion, though, and since I wouldn’t be able to route a path around any settlements I’d probably need to switch between the two fairly often. That was definitely going to limit my speed.

Mifa continued to stare at me, even after I gave my answer. Then she burst into laughter, folding a wing against her stomach and doubling her small body over. It got to the point where I was more concerned she might fall than I was turned on by the jiggling of her breasts, and I considered offering her a hand. Before I could do so, however, she suddenly straightened up again and focused her golden eyes on mine.

“The ocean, huh? It’s true that you can probably fly faster and longer than my best soldiers - and you’re in luck, too: the closest coast is a mere three hundred miles away. You won’t even need a map, if you keep heading north. But I’ll give you one, anyway. So long as you can answer one question to my satisfaction, that is.”

“Requisitioning a map is well within my royal authority,” I pointed out, a little irritated. “But if it’ll get you to cooperate, fine. I’ll listen.”

“Good girl.” The harpy smiled, showing off serrated teeth. “Now tell me - why the sudden interest in sightseeing?”

“I intend to gather salt. I’ve heard it’s quite delicious.” I was aware of Abigail stiffening next to me, but she had the good grace to keep her face well schooled. I was sure that Mifa noticed, all the same. But she didn’t comment on it.

“Salt, huh?” Mifa said instead. “I’ve heard good things about salt. Though I guess asking you to share wouldn’t do much good.”

“Since you are going to the trouble of providing a map, I suppose I could present you with some salt as a reward,” I offered, hoping to move this to a quick conclusion. I actually intended to gather salt for the whole tower; it would be possible with what I’d taken from the vault. If anyone questioned what a selfish girl like me was doing getting salt for everyone, I would simply tell them that I hadn’t known how much I would need and that I’d gotten too much by mistake. If they really pressed, I’d spin some nonsense about how the chefs told me it would spoil, and I’d had no choice but to share. They’d think me a fool, but that was nothing new.

Mifa seemed to think about it for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll get you a map of the continent; and you get me salt. It’s a deal. Want to seal it with sex?”