Chapter 75: Fallen Angel Clan!

The next morning came relatively quickly. A pale golden light filtering through the heavy curtains of the chamber and casting long shadows across the tangled sheets.

Jax’s eyes fluttered open, not to an alarm, but to the gentle, rhythmic weight of a body curled against his side and the soft, even breaths of two women in deep slumber. He lay still for a moment, a rare, quiet smile gracing his lips as he took in the scene.

To his right, Serika was a picture of peaceful innocence. She lay on her side, facing him, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her hair a fan across the pillow.

Her lips were slightly parted, and a soft, contented purr vibrated in her chest with every breath. She looked like an angel, a stark, beautiful contrast to the debauched, willing participant she had been the night before.

To his left, Hydra was different even in sleep. She lay on her stomach, her powerful, voluptuous frame taking up a significant portion of the bed, one leg thrown possessively over his.

Her face was turned away from him, buried in the pillow, but he could see the emerald strands of her hair cascading down her back, a wild, untamed mane even in rest.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to disturb them, he began to extricate himself from the tangle of limbs. He gently lifted Hydra’s leg from his waist, her skin warm and smooth to the touch. She stirred, letting out a soft, sleepy groan, but didn’t wake.

He then slid his arm out from under Serika’s head, replacing it with a pillow. She murmured something incoherent, a soft “♥My King…♥” and snuggled deeper into the bedding.

Once free, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The cool morning air was a welcome shock to his naked skin. He could feel the pleasant ache of a night well spent.

He raised a hand, murmuring a few quiet, guttural words in the ancient tongue of his kind. A faint, shimmering blue light enveloped his body, swirling around him like a gentle mist. The feeling was one of instant refreshment, a cool, tingling sensation that washed away the sticky remnants of the previous night’s passion.

The sweat, the juices, the scent of sex, it all vanished in an instant, leaving him feeling clean, refreshed, and completely renewed. It was a simple but useful piece of magic, one that saved him from the hassle of a cold morning bath.

He walked over to the ornate wardrobe where his clothes were kept. He bypassed the formal, regal robes, opting instead for something more practical. He pulled on a pair of dark, fitted leather trousers and a simple, black linen shirt, leaving the laces at the collar open. He slipped his feet into sturdy, worn leather boots and buckled a wide leather belt around his waist.

He cast one last look at the bed and with a silent nod, he turned and walked towards the door, opening it quietly and leaving.

Then, he walked down the corridors, thinking of his plan. He planned to continue his introductions to the various Clans, this time planning on meeting the Fallen Angel Clan, as he was interested in them.

It was becoming real.

He took a turn toward the inner cathedral complex, the architecture subtly shifting from demonic austerity to something more… ironic.

Tall arches reminiscent of divine halls, stained crystal windows depicting abstract concepts rather than gods, light refracted in ways that felt deliberately misleading.

Sabrina was already there.

She stood at the center of the cathedral floor, a projection circle hovering before her, layered with sigils, coordinates, and drifting reports. Her crimson eyes flicked toward Jax the instant he entered.

“You’re up early,” she said lightly.

“So are you,” Jax replied. “That tells me something’s moving.”

Sabrina smiled, “Always, City construction is going amazing, I can’t wait till it’s finished,”

He stopped beside her, gaze scanning the hovering data and nodded, “Nice work, but I wasn’t here for that, I plan to meet the Fallen Angel Clan.”

Her fingers paused mid-gesture.

“Oh,” she said. “Continuing your expedition, good luck,”

Jax glanced at her, “That tone suggests complications.”

“Not complications,” Sabrina corrected. “Characteristics.”

She dismissed the projection with a flick and turned to face him fully.

“They don’t live like the others,” she said. “No capital or ancestral stronghold,”

Jax frowned slightly, “Nomadic?”

“Not quite,” Sabrina replied. “They float.”

At his look, she elaborated.

“Literally. The Fallen Angels inhabit mobile sanctuaries, massive floating structures, hidden by layered illusions and spatial folds. They drift across the Demon Kingdom, never staying in one place too long.”

“Why?” Jax asked.

“Paranoia,” Sabrina said bluntly. “And tradition.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing slowly.

“They were once closest to the Divine realms. When they fell, they learned quickly that fixed locations invite annihilation. So they adapted. Initially they just moved naturally, but Xara was the one who decided to create a mobile fortress for them to live,”

Sabrina turned back to the air, conjuring a new projection, this one a shifting map of the Demon Kingdom’s skies. Several faint markers blinked in and out of visibility.

“This,” Sabrina said, pointing to a dim, flickering sigil near the western ranges, “was their last confirmed location. Three days ago.”

Jax studied it. “And now?”

“Now,” Sabrina said, “they could be anywhere within a hundred leagues. Or nowhere you can reach without permission.”

Jax straightened, “Seems like this is a test Xara gave me, she really is quite the trickster, I’ll find them,”

Jax immediately left towards the outer terrace. Wind tugged at his shirt, carrying the distant sounds of construction, stone shaping itself under Witchcraft, towers rising, wards locking into place.

He looked west.

With a thought, the air bent. Shadow and heat folded around him, and the world stepped aside.

In the next instant, Jax stood atop a jagged cliff overlooking a vast stretch of broken land—floating rock formations suspended in the air like the remnants of a shattered god. Mana currents flowed visibly here, pale streams of light drifting upward rather than down.

A perfect place to hide something that refused to be found.

Jax closed his eyes, searching with his presence, and far above him, something shifted,

A distortion rippled across the sky, subtle enough that a lesser being would miss it entirely. Space folded inward, revealing the faint silhouette of immense, wing-like structures carved from obsidian and light.

A floating city.

Jax opened his eyes and smiled.

“Found you.”

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