"Captain Makuire, why do you ignore me when I speak to you?"
Withered Bishop Nedodichka asked again.
Her innocent smile carried a naive charm, yet her eyes held a seductive allure that sent shivers down one's spine.
She hesitantly looked around the palace, her pale and delicate fingers gently caressing the walls, where tender and dripping flowers sprouted where she touched, and green vines poured down like a waterfall.
The air instantly became fresher, yet this supernatural power left Makuire feeling an indescribable Magic Power, experiencing a creator-like authority.
"Bishop Nedodichka is joking."
Makuire murmured in apology.
The Withered Bishop appeared as a very amiable beauty, but unquestionably, trusting her could lead one to untimely death without even knowing how it came.
"Don't be so stiff..."
Just as Nedodichka was about to say something, her gaze slowly shifted towards the entrance of the council hall.
