"If you were willing to burn the brilliance of your life in exchange for a rose, then I think you must be mad."
The moment Angel saw that line of ornate script carved into the wall, he knew they had arrived at Zislaid's antique shop.
The shop was filled with glass display cases, each packed with rare treasures in dazzling profusion. Gold and silver gleamed together, fantasy blended into machinery, and there were historical stone tablets and aged scrolls.
As gorgeous and strange as ever, and... the opening line was as familiar as ever.
"Those who can enter must have something on their minds. Honored guests, do you intend to trade your lifespan, or your soul—" Zislaid, who had put on a grand act for himself, strode elegantly to the counter. Before he could finish, however, he froze. "!!!"
"Why is it you lot again?!" Zislaid cried out.
Zislaid felt his old face burn. This was the second time this year that his attempt to show off had failed. The first time had also been because of Sanders and Angel.
Why had he come out directly from the back just now? Why had he not probed with his spiritual force first?
After his awkward cry, Zislaid gave another awkward, sheepish laugh.
"Cough, cough. Sit over here." Zislaid pressed a button beside him. The clatter of gears and chains rose from underground, and before long, a crack opened in the floor. Several sofas rose from below, along with matching low tables.
Once everyone had taken their seats, two mechanical dolls flew in hand in hand through the side door, carrying tea. They looked delighted, and faint laughter could even be heard in the air.
"Tell Anada to prepare a dinner for our guests."
The two mechanical dolls nodded. After setting down