It had to be admitted, sometimes Beacai’s smile was as adorable as a child’s.
Only upon hearing her speak did Isis realize that her eighteen years of effortless living were, in fact, due to Beacai’s “surveillance.”
Beacai’s twisted affection had protected her for those eighteen years, keeping her free from any harm. Otherwise, Nona might never have grown into the kind young woman she was today.
Although Beacai’s methods were wrong, it seemed Isis actually owed her thanks.
Isis’s hand, clasped by Beacai’s, subtly clenched into a fist. She glanced at Beacai’s smiling face, ultimately deciding against uttering the sarcastic words on the tip of her tongue.
She turned her head away dismissively. “I am not your mother.”
Beacai released her hand, seemingly oblivious to her words. With a fork, she speared a grape-like fruit from the table and offered it to Isis’s lips.
“Come, eat.”
Isis turned her head away once more.
“Don’t like this one? I’ll get another.”
Setting down the fruit on her fork, Beacai then picked up a slice of white pulp and brought it to Isis’s lips.
“Come, open your mouth, I’ll feed you.”
Isis attempted to turn her head away again, a silent act of defiance, but this time, Beacai did not allow it.
“Be obedient.”
An ethereal voice echoed through the room. The thorny bloodstain on Isis’s neck suddenly glowed, and her brow furrowed before her eyes quickly lost their divine light. Her expression gradually smoothed out.
Her initial resistance transformed into willing compliance. She took the fork Beacai offered, bit into the white fruit pulp at its tip, and began to eat with unhurried grace.
The pulp yielded to her pearly teeth, its juices bursting forth in her mouth. A sweet fragrance filled her palate, drawing a look of satisfaction onto Isis’s face.
“Is it delicious?”
“Delicious.”
“As long as Mama likes it.”
Seeing her consume the fruit, Beacai subtly moved a finger, releasing her control. As Isis regained her awareness, her silver teeth lightly bit down, and her expression instantly shifted to one of displeasure.
“What if you controlled my body? It’s all an illusion. There’s no way we could ever be mother and daughter.”
As she spoke, the sweet taste of the fruit lingering on her tongue made her unconsciously swallow. This subtle action did not escape Beacai’s notice, and a faint smile curved her lips.
“Mama, one day, you will acknowledge it.”
“Never!”
Isis’s tone grew considerably sharper. Had she still been Yggdrasil, even ordinary deities would not have dared to provoke her now, fearing divine retribution.
Alas, she was merely a mortal now. Even in anger, her usually gentle demeanor held little terror, and Beacai’s playful expression remained utterly unchanged.
Regardless of Beacai’s thoughts, Isis felt it was impossible to ever acknowledge her as her mother. Such an admission would signify her complete and utter fall.
She was certainly not the mother of an evil god.
Beacai seemed to peer into her very thoughts. The finger she had just lowered now rose again, and with a flash of red light from the thorny bloodstain, Isis’s golden hair swept past her ears, falling loose.
“Mama should still eat some fruit. If you starve yourself, I’ll be heartbroken.”
“Mhm.”
Responding dully, Isis slowly began to eat the fruit before her. Beacai, meanwhile, propped her chin on one hand, her gaze fixed intently on Isis’s face.
As a former deity, Isis ate with exquisite grace, every movement betraying her inherent divine nobility. The faint sounds of her chewing drifted into Beacai’s ears like a lullaby, mesmerizing her.
Seemingly noticing Beacai’s stare, Isis turned her head, meeting her gaze. She then offered a faint smile, and the subtle sweetness of the fruit, amplified by that smile, seemed to transmit directly into Beacai’s heart.
For some inexplicable reason, Beacai felt her heart suddenly skip a beat. A strange, unfamiliar bliss coursed through her, leaving her body flushed with warmth.
“…Mama truly is elegant when she eats.”
Clasping her hand over her chest, Beacai remained momentarily stunned. Once her racing emotions settled, she exhaled slowly and turned her attention back to Isis.
Isis’s appetite was small; she was sated after only a few pieces of fruit. Seeing this, Beacai subtly moved her finger, releasing her control.
Regaining control of her own body, Isis cast an indignant glare at Beacai. However, constrained by her current predicament, she refrained from voicing her displeasure.
She understood perfectly well that, to Beacai, she was merely a plaything. The more she spoke, the more torment she would invite.
Therefore, it was better to simply remain silent.
After they finished eating, Beacai rose to her feet and seized Isis’s wrist.
“Come, I’ll take you to see the city.”
Without waiting for Isis’s refusal, she led her away from the dining room. The bishop, who had been guarding the second-floor staircase, followed them at a distance, acting as their bodyguard.
****
Back on the main street, Beacai pointed towards the faintly discernible mountains in the distance. “Mama, do you remember? This city, and this entire mountain range, all belonged to you a long time ago. They were all your territory.”
“It’s just that Mama later disappeared, and your territory was encroached upon by other deities. The elves living here suffered terribly, so I had no choice but to reclaim it for you.”
The words of an evil god were often a mixture of truth and falsehood, and Isis maintained her vigilance towards Beacai. Yet, one thing she said was undeniably true: the Kael Mountains had indeed been one of her former territories.
Deities typically possessed their own domains, where the inhabitants would worship them, thereby providing immense faith power.
When she was still a deity, her worshippers were arguably the most numerous among all gods, and her territories equally vast.
But now…
If Beacai’s words held truth, then the Kael Mountains might have changed hands several times since Isis’s disappearance.
What had become of the elves who once lived there?
This question flickered through her mind. Isis surveyed her surroundings, noticing that nearly every passerby wore a black hood, and a wave of disappointment washed over her.
She had known the true state of Pader City the moment she first stepped foot in it. Chaos and darkness festered here; apart from the followers of the Blood Church, everyone else resorted to unscrupulous means to survive.
How could the inherently righteous and kind elves possibly live here? Without her protection, they would have been the perfect s*ave commodity for black market merchants, likely sold off across the world long ago.
Any survivors, realizing this was no longer a habitable place, would have likely abandoned the Kael Mountains long ago in search of new homes. This was especially true given that several other deities had claimed this territory even before Beacai took control.
Pader City in those bygone eras must have been far more chaotic than it was now.
Following Beacai’s steps, Isis arrived with a heavy heart before a magnificent cathedral. Thick vines coiled around the structure, with green leaves and a myriad of flowers scattered like stars, imbuing it with a profound sense of nature.
‘Was this… the Church of Life?’
Harboring this speculation, she gazed towards the cathedral’s main entrance. To her surprise, she spotted a long-eared elf, hood drawn, hurrying away into the distance.