Dusk had fallen. Magic lamps set into the walls cast white light, illuminating the surroundings as bright as day.
Outside the study lay a long corridor, silent at this moment.
Romon sat in the study, deep in thought.
Of course, he could sense Eileen's pain and difficulty. For all these years, Eileen had believed in the Goddess of Agriculture, from her girlhood until now.
It could be said that faith had seeped into her flesh and blood.
Moreover, the Goddess of Agriculture had shown her considerable favor. Not only had she once bestowed Divine Favor upon her, but the Temple had also trained her into a bishop. For a woman of her age to reach her present position was truly no easy feat.
Romon pondered.
He was a transmigrator. If he followed the way Earth men thought, he ought to respect Eileen's choice.
A scene appeared before Romon's eyes.
A phantom Romon, having noticed Eileen's predicament, merely looked at her with utmost seriousness. He did not force her, but said, "Eileen, I hope our family can live together forever. But how you choose is entirely up to you. Don't feel troubled, and don't feel pressured. Choose what you most wish to choose. No matter what you decide, I will respect your decision."
Eileen understood Romon's meaning. Gratefully, she nodded to him. "Romon, thank you. I'll think it over carefully."
The illusion before his eyes faded away.
Unfortunately, Romon was not that sort of person. He pondered and questioned his own nature—were he someone who respected others, willing to painfully let go and offer blessings?
No, I am not. Even if Eileen is unwilling, I will harvest her soul into my Divine Kingdom—or make a deal with the Goddess of Agriculture?
Many people could have their choices respected, but one's closest