Philomena scrutinized Isis’s figure from head to toe. Her gaze finally settled on Isis’s face, seemingly evaluating whether the woman before her was suitable for the job she had in mind.
Feeling a touch of awkwardness under that intense scrutiny, Isis pressed her lips together. She seemed to have divined Philomena’s unspoken thoughts.
On the sofa, she turned her body sideways, her arms wrapping around herself. Her golden hair veiled her profile, making her appear like a pitiful lamb cornered by a wolf. She whispered, a strange vulnerability in her voice:
“If it’s work of… a less reputable kind, then count me out.”
Hearing her words, Philomena froze for a moment. A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she exclaimed with an incredulous expression:
“Selling… selling oneself?! How could I possibly ask a lady like you to do such work?! And you are an elf, Miss! How can you utter such things so casually?”
Elves had always been a race of purity. Discussions of physical intimacy were often taboo for them, and their daily conversations rarely touched upon such topics. The idea of willingly debasing themselves by selling their bodies was utterly unthinkable.
Most elves would rather die than resort to such an act.
This was precisely why Philomena reacted so strongly upon hearing Isis’s statement.
How could she ever allow Isis to engage in something like selling herself? This particular elf, Isis, struck her as quite peculiar.
Isis herself, however, felt nothing of the sort. She wasn’t truly an elf and thus didn’t possess those deeply ingrained beliefs. Her words were purely a preemptive measure, meant to stop Philomena from potentially suggesting such work.
Though she had once been a deity, she was not ignorant of such matters. She knew that some women, driven to desperation, would sell their bodies for money, hoping to escape their dire circumstances.
Such a thing was utterly unacceptable to her.
She carried the pride of Yggdrasil within her. This pride dictated that she would rather die than ever sell her body. Moreover, how could the vessel of Yggdrasil possibly be measured by mere coin?
As her thoughts drifted, Isis suddenly let out a soft laugh.
Philomena reacted so strongly because she believed Isis was an ordinary elf. What, then, would her reaction be if she knew Isis was the legendary Elf Mother Goddess, Yggdrasil?
Even if her faith didn’t shatter, she would surely be in immense agony, wouldn’t she?
This impish thought flashed through Isis’s mind. Though she would never actually act on it, the mere contemplation brought a peculiar sense of amusement.
Yet, she quickly suppressed the thought, sinking into a state of worry.
The former her would never have conceived such a mischievous idea of tricking others. These impulses were a consequence of her soul’s defilement, and if left unchecked, she might truly descend into becoming an evil god.
Lightly stroking her chest, she asked with curiosity, “So, what kind of work is it?”
Philomena gently touched her own cheeks. Only after the blush on her face had somewhat subsided did she continue:
“There have been many newly born elves recently, and the Church of Life in Prelly is short on priests who understand the tenets of life. So, I was wondering if you, Miss, have had any exposure to the doctrine of life, and how deep your understanding of it might be?”
A job that required no magic yet offered good pay was rare, even in Prelly. After careful consideration, only one position came to mind that could meet Isis’s requirements.
However, the conditions for this job were quite stringent, and she wasn’t sure if Miss Isis would be able to fulfill them.
Isis, meanwhile, had already grasped her meaning.
“You want me to be a temporary priest for the Church of Life?”
“Yes, if you’re confident in your understanding of the doctrine of life, Miss, I can take you to meet the Arch-Priest of the church right away. If he agrees, you’re guaranteed an income of twenty silver coins within two or three days.”
Philomena spoke with absolute conviction, and Isis believed her. Churches generally did not lack funds; even the declining Church of Life could afford to pay her as a priest.
As for the doctrine of life that Philomena was concerned about…
Even in her current mortal form, who could possibly rival her understanding of life? Life was, after all, one of her divine authorities.
After Isis assured Philomena of her confidence, Philomena wasted no time. She immediately donned her coat and led Isis out of the residence, setting off to find the Church of Life.
The Church of Life possessed its own cathedral in Prelly. However, given that this was the Holy City of the Church of Blood, the cathedral’s exterior appeared as nothing more than an ordinary building, far from conspicuous.
Upon reaching the main entrance, Philomena pressed the doorbell. Shortly after, a middle-aged elf opened the door, inviting them into the cathedral.
The interior of the cathedral was remarkably bright, with golden sunlight streaming through the windows and illuminating the corridor. Black marble tiles gleamed with a crystalline luster underfoot.
Once the middle-aged elf understood their purpose, they led the two women towards the rear of the cathedral, ushering them into the Arch-Priest’s office.
The Arch-Priest of the Church of Life here was an elderly elf with streaks of white in his hair. He stood with his back to Isis and Philomena, busily searching for something on his office desk, seemingly oblivious to their arrival.
Philomena knocked on the door. Without waiting for the Arch-Priest’s response, she spoke directly:
“Lord Milton, I heard that the Church of Life is currently in need of temporary priests to teach the doctrine. I happen to have a suitable candidate here. I wonder if she might be capable?”
Milton’s search for books paused for a moment. Without turning to face Philomena, he continued his rummaging as he replied, “Not just anyone can become a priest. Those within the city who are qualified to serve as priests have already been appointed.”
“This young lady is from outside the city.”
“Outside the city?”
Those two words finally piqued his interest. He turned around, placed the book he was holding onto his desk, and gestured for them to take a seat on the sofa.
He then settled into the chair behind his desk, resting his chin on his clasped hands, and began to scrutinize Isis.
With one hand, Isis swept a strand of hair from her ear, revealing her flawless profile. She showed no trace of shyness; instead, she offered a slight smile and said, “Hello, Mr. Milton.”
“Hello. May I ask your name?”
“Just call me Isis.”
“Miss Isis, you… are from outside the city?” Milton furrowed his brow, seemingly doubting the veracity of this information. Isis, however, merely nodded calmly, offering a soft ‘Mm’.
Though Milton harbored some disbelief internally, he had indeed never encountered Isis within Prelly. Consequently, he could only provisionally accept that she was an elf from outside the city.
Following this, they exchanged introductions. After learning the purpose of Isis and Philomena’s visit, Milton pondered for a moment before speaking:
“Miss Isis, the divine office of a priest is not something just anyone can undertake. Have you previously served as a priest in the Church of Life, or perhaps held a higher position?”
“…No.”
Tapping her finger against her lips, Isis answered honestly.