Elves' Faults

Saya fell heavily to the ground, but she paid no attention to her own injuries. She merely stared blankly at the place Godzilla's breath had ravaged. Her kin, her companions, her guards—only moments ago, they had been standing there.

She had never imagined that, in a single instant, they would vanish without a sound!

After standing stunned for nearly a second, Saya finally seemed to grasp what had happened!

"NO!!!!"

"Bigby's Grasping Hand!!" Just as the female elf screamed, Solam used Bigby's Grasping Hand to seize Saya, then manipulated the magical hand to squeeze her over to him.

The moment Saya saw Solam, the murderer, she immediately began struggling.

"You'll die a horrible death! You demon! You killed them! You killed them! You demon! You demon who deserves to go to hell!!!!" Elves were generally well-mannered, even wild elves. The word elegance had seeped into the blood of every elf, and they would never spew filthy curses like barbarians. Thus, although Saya hated Solam to the bone, her vocabulary of insults remained woefully lacking, repeating the same few phrases over and over.

Solam was not even sure whether those counted as swear words. Still, to elves, that was already the most vicious language imaginable. This was also why Solam was not particularly fond of elves: he thought they were far too pretentious. Why put on such airs in life? Wasn't that exhausting?

Even arguing with elves was incredibly boring. What was there to admire about this race? For that very reason, Solam had never cared much for his elven bloodline. If he was not paying attention, he would sometimes subconsciously think of himself as an orc. He identified far more strongly with his orcish blood.

Though this elven girl's voice was very pleasant, and even her insults sounded like singing,