After formally introducing her basic information and performing a standard mage's salute, the little girl's projection clearly seemed to harbor deep resentment toward her own appearance. Her resentment was so profound that she insisted on adding one last remark at the end of what had otherwise been a rather high-class conversation.
However, Punk was only slightly surprised by this. He did not care what the person speaking to him looked like, nor was he in the mood to judge whether Archmage Dolush's "taste" back then had been a little strange. Compared to such harmless "little issues," Whisper of Destruction wanted to know why Ktarolan had appeared before him and Kane.
Was it to negotiate? To dissuade them? Or for some other reason?
Thus, the expressionless caster did not answer the construct empress. He merely took a silent step back, then looked toward the Golden Flash Knight, who wore a helpless expression.
"Handle your acquaintance yourself. I'll just watch."
That was what Punk meant to convey.
"Sigh, good morning, Ktarolan. The weather is pretty nice today, isn't it? The clouds here may be a little thick, but as long as it doesn't rain, they still look quite beautiful..."
"Drip, drip. Rustle, rustle."
Perhaps Kane truly had the mouth of a crow. He had only just calmly remarked on whether it would rain when scattered threads of drizzle began to fall from the gray sky. In an instant, both the radiance in the air and the image itself became abruptly blurred.
"Bisadas... We haven't seen each other for over a hundred thousand years. It was far too cruel of you to vanish without a word. Now that you've returned, I truly feel very happy."
As if she had not heard the rain striking the ground, and as if she had not noticed