The Flamboyant Sky Awakens

The first blast of wind tore a roar from Ryo—half exhilaration, half terror. Kairo's obsidian back thrummed with every wing‐beat, and the mountain air sliced his cheeks like icy razors. Despite the shivers, the screams, and that toxic tingle of adrenaline, Ryo couldn't wipe the grin off his face: he was riding a dragon. No ticket, no seatbelt, and obviously no life insurance.

Right behind him, Yuna squealed with delight. She clutched Gumi-chan, who peeked out like a pom-pom, shifting cotton-candy pink to Atlantic blue each time they punched through a cloud. Further aft, Toru gripped a dorsal spike, muttering prayers so ancient even he seemed unsure of the words. Sugi, Chio, and Doi hung on in single file, gesturing like they were steering an invisible helm. Only Kairo—the freshly freed dragon—kept true composure, though now and then he did emit a rumble suspiciously close to a volcanic chuckle.

An hour earlier, Ryo would have sworn that riding a dragon was the easy part of legends. Now, with each lurch that threatened to eject breakfast, he understood why epic heroes rarely discussed air logistics.

He leaned toward the sapphire-veined neck."Hey, Kairo—much farther? My intestines are staging a mutiny."

Without looking back, the dragon's voice rolled through every mind like thunder behind a mountain:

"Three cloud-flights ahead lies the Balcony of the Twisted Wind. There you must dismount. Debt honored means guidance and revelation. Afterward—your own wings, or wings on loan."

"Our own wings?" Toru croaked, face nearly green.

Kairo didn't elaborate. He banked gently, and a slipstream whistled around his body. The oculo on Ryo's belt vibrated; the compass matched its pulse like a chaotic metronome.

He checked the device:

[Compass] Wisdom II: 12 % — charging…[Compass] Parachutes not included.

He sighed—part worried, part charmed by the gadget's cheek.

Ahead rose the Twisted Wind range—black crests poking through a cloud sea like a giant's teeth. Between two peaks arched a natural stone balcony, turquoise mist pulsing from it in rhythm with Kairo's veins. The dragon slowed, gliding like a massive kite, and alighted on the platform. Talons thudded with seismic solemnity.

The instant they touched down, Ryo tumbled off and somehow landed upright—more miracle than skill—while his stomach negotiated peace with gravity. Yuna hopped down and shouted, "Let's do that again!"

"I… want stable ground next life," Sugi wheezed, releasing the dorsal spike.

Kairo folded his wings and lowered his head to eyelevel with Ryo, fire-pit irises radiating harmless warmth.

"Here lies what you seek. Yet not all may see the passage. Only the bearer of the compass—and the one who laughs with it."

Ryo scanned the ledge: an open lookout with a thousand-meter drop, no rail, nothing. The compass needle spun madly—pointing into empty air.

"You're kidding," he whispered, edging forward. Wind howled, tossing fog into the abyss.

"Maybe an illusion bridge," Toru offered. "Irony suits these places."

"Or a chute straight to doom," Chio muttered.

Ryo inhaled. Courage I flashed—three seconds. He stepped out… and his boot met something solid yet invisible. Air trembled; a translucent turquoise walkway flickered beneath him.

"Ghost bridge unlocked," he muttered, feigning confidence.

The compass blinked:

[Compass] Welcome to the Path of Wayward Steps. Rule: one joke per step.

"What?" He laughed nervously. "You want a joke each step?"

The invisible floor grumbled; a crack snaked toward the edge.

Doi squeaked, "Tell it—or we drop!"

Yuna chimed first: "What does a slime ride at the fair? The gelli-coaster!"The crack shrank an inch.

"Fine," Ryo barked. "Two whistles and a duck hop on a dra—ah, whatever. What did the dragon say to the GPS? I'm already orien-taled!"

Awful pun, but the fissure closed farther. Sugi stammered, "Uh… what's a thief's worst oatn—oat… ugh, I forget!"

Nothing. The bridge trembled.

"Robbing oat-rage!" Ryo shouted, salvaging the botched line. Floor solidified another span.

Step by step, powered by half-baked puns—exploding-flour gags, compass roasts, slime punchlines—they advanced, humor lighting the planks beneath them. When they faltered, the walkway growled, reminding them that laughter was literal footing.

Halfway across, the sky thundered. A vortex tore open; Haru descended in spectral form, tattoo fissures glowing toxic purple. He hovered, borne by a dark aura.

"Bravo. You laugh, you walk, you taunt the abyss. Yet broken paths belong to my god. Leave the compass—or leave your bones as tribute."

The bridge hummed under Ryo's feet. One more step might seal it, but Haru blocked the way, and a fight could shatter the span. He glanced at Kairo; the dragon watched, calculating.

Yuna shouted, "Your god is wrong! The compass is learning to laugh with us!"

Gumi-chan echoed with a plip, releasing a gust of sparkling confetti.

Haru sneered, conjuring a wine-dark orb crackling violet.

Ryo hissed to the group, "Rule stands—one joke a step. New idea: if the compass wants laughter, laughter might defend us. Bet absurdity."

He strode two paces forward; the seam sealed behind him.

"Hey, Haru! What does a fallen priest do when faith runs out? Takes a crédit-cardinal loan!"

Haru faltered; his orb wavered. Bridge lit beneath Ryo.

Toru twirled his staff. "How many druids to change a torch? None—we photosynthesize, theoretically!" The dark orb dimmed further.

The ex-bandits performed slapstick domino falls; the light strengthened, cracks snaking toward Haru.

The ex-priest roared, hurling the orb. It split into three black chains. Protection I flared; one chain ricocheted, but two coiled—one round Ryo's torso, one round the compass—squeezing the air out of him.

"Your humor… is a curse," Haru rasped.

Toru's flame sigils severed one bind, but the second still drained Ryo's strength. The bridge yawned below.

Wisdom II charged 48 %, climbing with each accepted joke, but pain dulled creativity. Gumi-chan shot from Yuna's pack, splatted onto Haru's chest tattoo, slurping purple energy. The chain slackened.

Airless, Ryo blurted the first bad pun that surfaced: "Hey, Haru! Know what you call sticky slime on your face? FREE organic glue!"

Turquoise voltage raced the chain; it shattered. Wisdom II hit 50 %. A flash of clarity struck Ryo—the bridge thrived on laughing at pain, flipping ridicule.

He drew breath, raised the compass, declared with solemn absurdity:

"By the power of terrible jokes, I hereby cancel your subscription to Forced Laughter!"

A blue beam lanced Haru's chest; purple lines spider-cracked and burst. The ex-priest dropped to his knees above the mist, his voice not a laugh but a human-sized whimper of shame.

The walkway finished solidifying. Ryo took the final step, collapsed on the stone platform. Yuna hugged Gumi-chan, now pastel green.

Kairo approached, lowering a giant head.

"You unleashed laughter that heals… and hurts. Balance is yours."

Compass trumpeted silently:

[Compass] Wisdom II unlocked — ability Counter-Comic Logic: your bad jokes become surprisingly effective (cooldown unpredictable).

Ryo laughed, breathless, the mountain wind carrying sweat, leftover confetti, and—hopefully—his fear.

Haru's form dissolved into shadow and wind, dragged away by unseen hands. Not dead—merely diffused, promising to return with less humor and more poison.

Toru clasped Ryo's shoulder: "Guardian freed, seal revealed, compass straighter… yet the path grows steeper."

"It always does." Ryo stood, gazed at friends and slime. "And while it climbs, I'll crack jokes so awful the mountain begs for mercy."

The dragon spread one wing, shielding them from the gale. Dawn shattered the clouds into gold cascades.

Ryo gripped the broken compass; the needle finally pointed toward a clear horizon. Not an easier destiny—just one worth genuine laughter instead of mockery.

And though the trickster god was surely plotting the next gag, Ryo—with slime, friends, and a dragon chuckling inside—was ready to turn it into another story between belly-laughs… preferably without unnecessary puddles.

End of Chapter 10.