AstralLein
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The Dancer was about to retort to Sarabass’s insolence when a certain female voice cut him off.
“To barge into the cult's lair and openly defy its leader… you mortals have developed some interesting signs of sound judgment these days,” said a beautiful woman in a crimson dress, emerging from the scarlet haze. Thin horns adorned her head, wings rose behind her back, and a tail coiled around her legs. Red eyes completed the image. “Master Renardo clearly hinted at the true consequences of fulfilling your wish, Sarabass Nevereverland. Such an increase will not only be of no practical use but will also harm your frail human body. You humans are weak and feeble creatures. You need to know your place. And yes, anticipating things, there is not a single human being here besides you.”
The cultists respectfully bowed their heads.
“Why are we treating him with such respect?” Cultist Sorn-Tarna 4 suddenly asked.
The others immediately began whispering among themselves. Indeed... why?
