The heavy door of the prison creaked open as a priest stepped in, flanked by robed men who wore smirks on their faces.
They stared at the girls, not even attempting to hide their intentions.
The man to the left licked his lips. "These girls will serve as a fine dessert after the priestess."
The one on the right nodded and stepped toward Amelia. "This one is just my type." He raised his hand to touch her, only for her frigid stare to make him recoil.
The priest scoffed. "Have you forgotten they can't use mana anymore? Even if she's a noble and a student of Central, without mana, she's just another woman."
The man on the left forced a grin. "You're right, Abel."
But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake off the unease gnawing at him. Just moments ago, he thought he heard them laugh. So why were their gazes now so void of emotion… so cold?
His face contorted. 'I'll make you regret that look.'
