She didn't continue, but the bloodshed and cruelty implied by her unfinished words were already clear.
He Xi listened in silence. All his earlier doubts had been answered.
So Zoya's gaze had kept drifting toward him, not because she was interested in him, but because of the dagger at his waist.
No wonder she liked reading The Skin Peeler in the Woods, a book that sounded so bloody, and had even called it "moving."
For her, any story about elves suffering must have been a kind of solace.
As for her innate talent for hypnosis...
"But it really does smell wonderful."
He Xi gazed at Zoya's distinctive purple eyes in the moonlight.
Now, under the weight of grief and memories, they were veiled in a watery haze, like amethysts submerged in a clear spring. It only added to their fragile, heartbreaking beauty.
Those eyes alone were already so captivating. He couldn't help wondering what a beautiful sight lay beneath her mask.
Honestly, as a soul transmigrator, he wasn't particularly moved by what had happened to the original owner of this body.
The destruction of his family, the contract of revenge—both felt like reading someone else's biography, with no real connection to his own life.
Revenge? Rebuilding the family? What did any of that have to do with him? It sounded exhausting, with nothing in it for him.
And yet, at that moment, looking at Zoya before him, he truly wanted to help her.
That impulse even outweighed any consideration of "practical gains" like Favorability and Parsing Points.
He couldn't explain why, even to himself.
"Maybe... she really is a Succubus in disguise."
He could only use that joke to explain the inexplicable desire to protect her rising inside him.
Still, a powerful elven tribe... This wasn't something to joke about.