A Monster and a True Monster (9)

Once we surrounded the overturned carriage, we pried open the door, which had ended up facing skyward, and a woman crawled out.

Dressed in an outfit that was white, thin, and loose like a priestly robe, yet strangely provocative, she was unmistakably the Holy Pontiff who had wielded the art that night.

She gave her surroundings a sharp look, then...

"To stop a carriage so violently... This is why I dislike human imitations. But who could have imagined that an inexhaustible fountain of life was inside it...? Tell me, why would a true human such as yourself be with such a filthy counterfeit?"

She fixed her gaze on me and said this.

Her eyes held respect, hidden fear, and a light of unmistakable greed.

Apparently, even as she searched for some way to escape, she had become strongly drawn to the bait she had happened to discover: a High Elf.

What a greed-driven phrase, "an inexhaustible fountain of life."

It felt as though the Holy Pontiff's true feelings were laid bare in those words.

Indeed, to an evil immortal who fed on human lives, I—a High Elf—must be the finest possible nourishment...