"This ain't going to work," Konrad groaned as he climbed into the Schwertburg's carriage.
"What? She did fine for a dragon," Gabrielle argued, settling down on the opposite side. "If you add that she brought you all these books while continuing your fancy broadcast—"
"And then she missed that huge envelopment," he protested, crossing his arms.
The angel's reaction was simple.
She laughed him off.
"You have to admit, the crowds loved the twist," Gabby said, freezing time again as soon as her carriage took off. "Now, you've better things to do than worrying about that broadcast, anyway."
Which brought Konrad back to where they had started.
"This is insanity," he moaned, throwing himself against his backrest, except—
Well, his body still couldn't keep up with the angel's time dilation.
"You say the end of the world is here, but then the tournament must continue," he tried to summarise it. "And now you tell me not to worry about it. Pick one. Make it make sense."
Gabrielle sighed, acting like she'd explain the same thing to a toddler for the umpteenth time.
"I only said don't worry about the broadcast," she corrected him. "You still have to win at least your next bout, or we'll be in trouble. Now even more so, that the king is dead."
He wanted to ask why—and yes, he already did before—but his head was a mess.
The last hour in this world was almost half a day for him.
He spent it suspended in time, reading through one codex after the other. His head throbbed worse than ever, lungs burning, and the angel's kisses didn't help it, either.
If anything, he felt lost and confused, conflicted, and most of all, exhausted.
"Where is Maple now?" Gabrielle asked out of the blue, dragging him back to the present.
"I, uh—How would I know? Telepathy doesn't work when time stands still," Konrad snapped back, getting frustrated. "Last time I checked, she was flying towards the eastern mountains."
"Good," the angel said. "We need eyes on the Halaima Pass. Maou Midori came sooner than I had expected, but I don't know if his armies are coming as well. They might still be far behind."
It sounded like she was complaining about it.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Well," Gabrielle paused, looking out at the frozen landscape. "An army can be a real threat, something even the nobles understand. But a few sudden disappearances—"
"Right. Most people think Maou Midori is a bedtime story to scare children."
Konrad let out a long sigh, then, realising his mistake, started coughing again.
It took a lot out of him to live in suspended time with a body and lungs that couldn't keep up.
And right on cue, the archangel leaned in to give him another kiss—only to save him from suffocating. It should've helped; he should've gotten used to it by now, but neither was true.
It didn't matter how much he tried to convince himself. This was no more than an air transfer.
But then, seeing Gabby's porcelain skin blush and feeling the heat creeping up his own face—
"Is this actually necessary?" He tried his best not to pant, but his heart almost exploded.
"Would you rather suffocate?" the angel asked, her fingers rubbing against her lips.
At first, he thought it was her way of wiping his traces off her, but now?
The movement itself felt sensual, suggestive even. And every time, he'd crave her lips more.
"No, it's the oxygen. The oxygen," he muttered to himself, trying to shake his head in vain. "You could also stop, uh, stopping the time, you know. Give me a chance to breathe and recover."
"Nope." She smirked, leaning against her backrest. "You've magic to learn, so pick up the pace."
That he did.
He had only gone through a few spellbooks so far, but his mind was already at its limits.
"You know, this'll drive me nuts," he complained. "I've to fight in a few minutes, and you force me to learn something I won't be able to use there. How am I to focus on either of these?"
The angel sighed again—something only she could do without choking right now.
"You should blame yourself," she noted. Then, as if to rub salt into the wound, she added, "I might've picked the wrong Halstadt. Makes me wonder if Nimrod would whine this much?"
A low blow, if anything, but Konrad was wondering, too.
Not about the whining part, but—
"Will the tribesmen be able to stop Maou's armies?" he asked.
As Gabrielle put it, an invading army was a real threat that even he understood.
"No," she said without hesitation. "And that's why you have to win the tournament, or at least the next fight. Earn their trust, show that you can fight, and then—"
"Then?" Konrad couldn't see where this was going.
"You are hopeless, aren't you?" Gabby rolled her eyes. "What is this tournament about?"
He wasn't sure if that was a trick question.
"Prestige? To prove myself to the king—who's already dead?"
"It's a fight between the best of the best," the angel pointed out. "We have around six hundred of the finest soldiers Kasserlane has to offer. All gathered in one place, ready to fight."
"Oh."
True. It was a significant force, and whatever their reason was to be here, they were.
But they belonged to each of the dukes, and—
"So that's why you want me to prove myself," he yelled, almost jumping, except, of course, his body would refuse. "If I can beat the next noble, it'd convince them and Helena that I can lead."
"Finally," Gabrielle said, rolling her eyes again. "You're slow on the uptake today."
"You slowed me down," Konrad reminded her, staring at the codex in front of him. "But if that's the case, shouldn't I be preparing for that fight instead? Magic can wait."
The angel's glare almost burned a hole into his face.
From kissing to unbridled annoyance in less than a second. Even in this suspended reality.
"If you hadn't prepared already, it'd be too late," she stated. "And you can't even breathe without my, uh—my help." Her blush made him blush as well, and now he almost choked again.
But she was right.
He could've made plans in this state, but his commanders had already done it.
Moving his body or practising his swordsmanship was out of the question.
He wasn't even the leader of his own forces, but the 'king' on the chessboard. A liability for his own team, the Rogue Rejects, and the best he could do was to trust them instead.
And, well, prepare for the aftermath.
It was too late to worry about the details. He picked the best he could find.
"I'll win," he claimed with confidence. "And I'll stop this Demon Lord of yours."
Gabrielle smirked, her mood changing once again.
"That's a start. But I need more than words," she said, nodding towards the codex. "Get to work already. You wasted about a quarter of a second so far. And it's tiring to keep you suspended."
He understood the stakes—more or less.
He knew what he had to do.
Konrad was more eager than ever to prove himself, except—
"Okay, um—could you open it on the fifth page then?"
His body still refused to move in this strange, frozen moment.