In the sewers of Ratris City, Deluo was lost in fantasy over the shy deanor of a beautiful maid, almost drooling. At the other end of the passage, the blood of Martial Monk Regula flowed continuously from his wounds.
Zarra, the Spider Elf, carried the Martial Monk on her back, quickly fleeing from the group they just encountered. She didn’t like having soone ride on her back, considering it a great humiliation. Although she had turned into a Spider Elf, the pride she cultivated long as a Drow Female Priest had not changed. If the Monk hadn’t promised to find a way to relieve her of the Spider transformation curse, Zarra would never have allowed this male to crouch on her back—even if she stubbornly believed in her heart that it was rely the back of a spider.
The battle between the two factions was confined underground, as the residents of Ratris City above continued with their lives as usual. At the residence of the First Family, Zilvra swiftly glided past the patrolling family mbers, hurrying towards the Audience Room; today was the day Matron Batana summoned her.
Originally, at this ti, it was the family’s eldest daughter—Zarra—who would go to the Audience Room for so training. But ever since the Limb Temple mission ended, Zarra had mysteriously vanished from the family. Everything related to her—whether it was her dedicated room or the guards, even in so records—the Dark Elf seed to have never existed.
This sort of occurrence wasn’t the first ti; Zilvra clearly rembered having had a brother who, due to so connection with the Third Family and being suspected of betraying the family interests, also "disappeared" in the sa manner. Zilvra silently reminded herself that now was the most critical ti to execute the escape plan. As long as she could deceive Matron Batana, everything should proceed smoothly without errors, especially without letting Matron discover. That Mage certainly didn’t intend to linger in the Underdark for long. Since he had achieved his wish to enter the Black Crystal Tower, he should have acquired the magical knowledge he desired and was ready to leave.
Thinking of this, the female Drow felt a bit uneasy in her heart. Although the Mage appeared to be very kind and concerned about her, Zilvra wasn’t entirely confident she could see through his heart. From the knowledge she had been exposed to since childhood, the conclusions were invariably about how cunning and despicable Mages were, employing all sorts of extre asures, and reneging on promises like a routine practice. Zilvra also feared being deceived—sothing she had experienced before and didn’t wish to feel again.
Pushing open the door and walking into the Audience Room, Matron Batana sat on her throne with eyes closed, resting. Hearing the door open, she opened her eyes to look at her daughter.
"Zilvra, you’re late." Although she pointed out Zilvra’s mistake upon eting, there was no reproach in the Matron’s voice.
"I’m sorry, esteed Matron, I won’t make such a mistake again." There was no hint of remorse in Zilvra’s voice either.
The Matron descended from her throne and unexpectedly took Zilvra’s hand beside her. Zilvra trembled slightly, unable to understand the aning behind the gesture. She instinctively wanted to pull her hand back but forcibly restrained herself.
"Zilvra, among all my daughters, you are the most special one."
Nonsense! Zilvra thought to herself. As a fair-skinned Dark Elf, not to ntion in the First Family, even in the whole Dark Elves’ world, she was the only one of her kind.
"My dear daughter, perhaps you’ve heard many rumors in Ratris City about your ancestry." Matron Batana gently patted Zilvra’s hand back, caressing it fondly. But Zilvra felt that the Matron seed more like touching her toy or pet rather than caressing her child.
"So rumors indeed guessed so facts right, and so are purely nonsense." Batana spoke rarely in a gentle tone, which sent chills through her daughter’s body. "Today, I will tell you the exact process."
"Matron, why explain it today?" Zilvra always felt sothing wasn’t right, a gut feeling imparted a sense of danger to her.
"Because now the First Family is at a critical mont, and the developnt in the next few hundred years depends on the actions in the coming days." Matron said aningfully, "Child, your father indeed was an Angel, more precisely, a Dawn Angel. He was a trophy from one of the surface cleansing operations, a captive."
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