[When the trial came, demons would whisper, and evil spirits would murmur in languages we could never understand.]
W-What happened?
White smoke billowed everywhere. Tales stared blankly at Shilai before him. The girl held his face, anxiously opening and closing her lips, but no sound came out.
W-What...
The next instant, the icy touch at his neck made Tales break out in goosebumps!
Right, I... I just managed to shout?
Maybe he had even attracted disaster.
Tales stared at the strange white smoke before him, sensing the presence behind him. His awareness and reason gradually returned to his mind.
"Who... who are you?" He touched the dagger and asked warily without turning.
Or rather, what are you?
Shilai grew even more terrified at the sight and shook her head frantically.
The presence behind him gently brushed his neck, its voice growing sweeter and more tender. "That's not important."
Tales shuddered.
Strange.
That voice was...
No, that was impossible.
"What truly matters is, who are you, Tales?"
Tales instinctively turned around and seized the wrist of the person behind him!
He froze at once.
It was a blonde girl with glasses and delicate features.
She stared blankly at the wrist Tales had grabbed, looking somewhat flustered.
Her?
Tales could hardly believe it.
Who was she—Shilai was looking at the girl before her with equal surprise and suspicion. She could not make a sound, but her mouth movements were perfectly clear.
Tales ignored Shilai and instinctively released the other person's wrist.
It was Thelma.
Thelma Walton.
Little Rascal?
Tales stared at the Thelma before him, uncertain and alarmed.
Her expression, bearing, movements, even the habit of pursing her lips—all of it was exactly the same as when they had parted.
Only, her figure was taller and more slender, her features even more