"Truly… arrogance, elves."
Torkifat patted the golden statue's cheek and sighed contentedly:
"I have long wanted to see you with this expression...panicked, unforeseen.
"After all, you are merely mortals, aren't you? Even a thousand years ago, before the destruction of the old world, you weren't as noble as you claimed, were you?
"Rather, compared to us who were carefully selected and cultivated...you are closer to the 'mundane,' old things, aren't you?"
He said nonchalantly.
The silver-haired young man, who always slightly closed his eyes and carried a Buddha-like divinity, couldn't help but lift the corners of his mouth slightly.
He revealed an unstoppable, eerie, happy, and gentle smile.
Torkifat did not leave immediately.
Instead, he took out a deep red halo and slowly lifted his mechanical tentacle.
