Hearing Taylor's words, the Primordial Elf Serandir put down the feather pen in his hand and gently raised his head.
He smiled slightly,
"You've worked hard."
His voice was rich and pleasing, his smile as radiant as spring.
The handsomeness of his features was almost unfair, and paired with such a sunny smile, even though Taylor was sure of his own direction, he couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat...
*The last time he felt like this was when he first saw the Goddess's statue.*
*Damn, is this the terrifying allure of the Primordial Royal Family?*
Taylor couldn't help but marvel inwardly.
"How is it now, how many believers in the Half-plane are able to participate?"
Serandir asked gently.
Taylor straightened his expression.
He cleared his throat, shifted his gaze, took out a small notebook from his pocket, and read,
