A figure of a woman with skin almost as pale as alabaster rose to the lake's surface. Vilja and her friends held their breath when they saw the beauty of the figure who did not wear a single thread. From her white hair that was so long that it ran past her feet to her red eyes that gave off warmth, it all left the party members speechless.
Even Raymund couldn't comment. Perhaps it was the most beautiful figure he had ever seen.
"Welcome, my children." The voice from the woman's mouth also sounded so melodious. "Welcome to my place."
"S-should we kill her?" Marko, who was about to pick up the greatsword on his back, had tears in his eyes.
"It seems impossible." Henrik looked at his arrows, the tips of which had evaporated and left white smoke. "Since earlier, the arrowheads of this Jar'anig bone are fine, but it seems that the sacred power of this lake is so strong."
