Sitting in the airship, he traveled to the Divine Realm smoothly and unhindered. Negris couldn't help but laugh and cry; it had thought there would be some formidable method, but it turned out to be this simple.
The communicator was bustling with calls. Once connected, it was, "Macor, are you guys on vacation? Going to the Divine Country?"
Macor kept responding, "Yeah, yeah, we're off to play in the Divine Country, we're on vacation."
"The annual vacation, you know how hard we've waited? Haven't had bean paste in ages, when we get to the Divine Realm let's eat a ton, and I'll help you eat your share, hehe."
"Oh, oh, oh, you still have five months until your vacation? That's a pity. I'll have fun for you, write down all the fun stuff, and come back to tell you to cheer you up."
"Oh, the landlady at the Iron Hoof Tavern has changed? Great, I'll go have a look—do you want me to carry a message for you? 'Hope to die in your arms.' Alright, no problem, I'll make sure it gets there."