"Perhaps I should have realized my uniqueness from that ti; I’ve always had a large appetite, more than many grown n."
"But Father never let talk about this, nor let others notice, so I often endured hunger back then."
"For , at that ti, being able to eat my fill was already quite difficult."
After speaking, the girl scratched her head embarrassedly and gave Miser a simple smile.
"Whenever I can eat my fill, it’s either when Father cos to see and brings lots of food, or during special festivals and celebrations when the village prepares a feast."
"Whenever I eat my fill now, I recall those feelings from before; it makes very happy and warm."
Thinking of the villagers, Teresa’s expression darkened, and she said softly:
"...Although they’re all gone now, they weren’t really good to back then, but those feelings still linger in my heart."
Miser nodded thoughtfully, understanding the significance of food to this mixed-blood girl.
"I see."
For the Snake Race mixed-bloods, although they can eat a large amount at once and endure long periods of hunger,
they still prefer being able to eat their fill every al, without suffering such tornt.
Teresa observed Miser’s expression and realized she was easy to talk to; she breathed a sigh of relief and added:
"Well, I don’t know if it’s a personal habit, but if I’m unhappy, eating sothing makes happy."
She hesitated for a mont, unsure, and handed a piece of dry food to Miser, asking: "Lord Miser, would you like a piece?"
Take a bite?
Miser: ?
The mushroom rchant looked at the dry food the girl handed over and for a mont didn’t know what to say.
Should I tell her that this avatar of mine can’t actually eat, it’s a puppet?
Should I tell her bluntly that I never have the habit of eating?
Or...
After hesitating for two seconds, Miser inexplicably chose another option—she accepted the rough grain product.
"Uh, thank you."
She manipulated the puppet body and put it in her mouth, silently chewing.
"How is it?" Teresa asked nervously, leaning in closer involuntarily.
Miser chewed for a while, swallowed, nodded slightly, and smiled: "...It’s not bad."
Whew!
Teresa finally breathed a sigh of relief after hearing the answer, pleased: "That’s great!"
Miser looked at the girl’s joyful expression and shook her head with a smile.
Just now, Miser actually lied.
The food she ate had no taste for her.
But it wasn’t entirely a lie; there was so truth to it.
When she saw the happiness on the girl’s face for her, she couldn’t help but feel a burst of joy in her heart.
"So, the important thing isn’t what you eat but the feeling at that mont?"
Miser thought, feeling she understood humans a bit better.
Accepting Herbert’s invitation might not just be a reluctant choice; it might be a good one?
While Miser was contemplating this, she suddenly felt a disturbance and looked into the depths of the mist.
She vaguely heard the sound of excited hoofbeats.
"Be careful, soone’s coming."
Miser stepped in front of Teresa, frowned at the rapidly approaching dangerous aura, feeling hesitant.
"Could it be the ssenger Herbert ntioned? Or soone else?"
A mont later, a swift figure leapt out of the mist, capturing the attention of both.
The montum was grand, yet it landed particularly lightly, not at all rough.
"An undead?"
Miser looked at the semi-transparent figure, furrowing her brow, then quickly noticed a difference.
The Centaur in front of her had no traces of Fallen undead aura, instead holding an aura that made one want to worship.
"Is this... a Heroic Spirit?"
Miser was stunned upon recognizing Sofia’s identity.
No, how could it be a Heroic Spirit!!?
Didn’t Herbert say his servant would co to fetch them... wait, is this his servant?
Having seen Herbert use the Sun God’s power, summoning a Heroic Spirit was not very surprising.
But the issue was, this Heroic Spirit was clearly not subordinate to the Sun God!
Could he possibly be a devotee to another deity?
Such a thing... hissing, would the Sun God agree?
He was never known to be a good-tempered deity, was he?
At this mont, Miser truly couldn’t figure it out.
Unsure of her enigmatic employer’s true identity...
Was he a Divine Favorer?
Or a Fallen who deceives deities?
She squinted her eyes, looking at the Heroic Spirit saluting her, she couldn’t help but ask in her heart: "Herbert, who... exactly are you?"
.
.
Endless Maze.
A young man sat cross-legged in a gloomy and silent room, surrounded by a circle of blue-glowing candles, filled with sparkling stones of various hues.
He wore a pitch-black robe, cloaking his head with its hood, casting shadows that hid his face, hoarsely inquiring of the mirror:
"Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror, tell , who is the most beautiful woman in this world?"
The mirror gave no response.
But the young man was undeterred, maintaining the hard-built atmosphere and continued chanting:
"Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror, tell , what praise does the Mirror Elf love to hear most?"
"Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror, tell , what is the Mirror Elf’s fatal weakness?"
"Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror, tell , how to curse soone who peeps into others’ private lives?"
"Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror..."
Click.
Finally, after chanting for a long ti, the mirror responded.
"Hey."
The young man, who had been chanting eerily, stopped, his voice returned to its usual tone, and he exclaid in surprise: "Hmm? It’s really manifesting?"
"..."
The reflection in the mirror stared at Herbert, the corners of its mouth twitching, squinting at the boy who had taken off his hood.
After quite a while, Lukalia finally asked in exasperation: "What... exactly are you doing?"
No, what exactly are you doing?
And you deliberately made the atmosphere of the room so spooky and sinister...
Herbert, are you really a Paladin?
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