Cyril sneered and shook his head. "It's already the year 1350 of the Fifth Epoch. You don't need to be so euphemistic about sending out intelligence operatives."
"Also, I'm curious. Do you still have any full-blooded Elves?"
The Elf opposite him furrowed her brows, her chest rising and falling slightly as if she were holding back her anger.
After a long while, she finally lowered her voice and said, "That's a secret. You'll only find out after you join us."
Cyril shook his head. "I'm not an Elf, and I don't have any Elf blood."
Then he saw a suspicious blush rise on her face. She spoke quickly. "But you could have Elf descendants."
"As long as you leave behind an Elf descendant with a sufficiently pure bloodline, that counts as joining the Elf race. You'll earn our recognition and help."
"As an ancient race that's existed since the Second Epoch, even though the Tyrant and his Church have kept us suppressed, the foundations of the Elf race are beyond those of ordinary secret organizations."
Cyril: =_=
An otherworldly version of marrying into the family? What kind of development was this?
And even if I were marrying into the family, why would I choose you instead of the Sanguine, who have much better conditions? Your Elf race only has a handful left.
Was it because you were short-tempered, or because you weren't as good-looking as the Sanguine?
Gathering his thoughts, he shook his head at her. "Sorry, I'm not interested in Elves."
As his words fell, the wind around them grew stronger, howling as if a storm could break out at any moment.
The blush on the Elf's face across the street faded. She stared at him in disbelief, while rings of wind swirled around her, whipping at her cloak