Short, trimmed red hair, a strange "smiley face" mask, lightweight leather wind coat…
Irisa from Valley of Hurricane.
Angor wasn't expecting to see this woman soon after giving her a copy of Crimson Crown. He wondered if she came to the inspection room to sell it.
It seemed Irisa had finished her item examination and was leaving from the neighboring room. There was an old wizard in a silver robe following closely behind her.
"Miss-Miss Specter Mask, are you sure you will not sell it during the action? I promise it will be one of the biggest prizes we can present today…" The old man was trying to persuade Irisa of something. His robe had pictures of machinery gears sewn on it, and with each movement, the gears appeared as if they were spinning.
"Leave me already. I'm not selling and that's final." Irisa didn't look pleased.
"But…"
