Chapter 155: You can only be considered a loli here

There are many paths to godhood—this is an eternal law of the continent.

Gods are called gods because, compared to mortals, they possess the power of laws—even transcending the conventional magic systems of ordinary beings.

For a mortal to ascend to the [Bright Moon] rank requires astonishing talent, exceptional bloodline, and the favor of fate—none can be missing. To reach the even higher [Rising Sun] rank demands talent so terrifying that it is nearly impossible.

In contrast, “becoming a god” can sometimes occur in a single moment—a sudden enlightenment, a resonance with the laws like never before.

Thus, throughout history, the number of mortal giants who reached the [Rising Sun] level is actually fewer than those who, by chance, ascended to godhood over the long passage of time.

The Blood Witch was a typical case—ascending to godhood before ever reaching [Rising Sun].

—

But what no one expected was that at the moment she became a god, the Blood Witch triggered her Witch’s Feast.

Driven by the uncontrollable hunger of that feast, Masha—the God of Greed—madly devoured every drop of blood within her sight.

When the feast ended and her sanity returned—

The homeland of the Winged God race she loved had already been reduced to a silent wasteland by her own hands.

—

From that moment on, Masha believed it was all fate’s design.

That the God of Fate had deliberately delayed her Witch’s Feast until the instant of her ascension, using her hand to destroy the strongest mortal race—the Winged Gods.

For revenge, Masha did not hesitate to slaughter mortals even as a god. Even at the risk of her divine core shattering, she sought to drag the dragon race down to accompany the Winged Gods in death.

At that time, a blood-red moon hung in the sky, and greedy crimson stained the heavens and earth.

The fallen angel became the eternal nightmare of all dragons.

—

The dragon race was no weak prey.

In that era of countless races, dragons ranked among the top three in power across the world.

But mortals were still mortals.

Faced with the wrath of the God of Greed, they had almost no power to resist.

Until—Masha’s divine core was ultimately shattered under the punishment of the world’s will.

—

Peleti carefully digested all this information.

This was the first time she had heard such a detailed account of the Blood Witch.

After all, for a race that had existed for thousands of years, some who had participated in that war might still be alive even now.

Now she finally understood why the entire continent feared the Blood Witch so deeply.

After what happened to the dragons—anyone would be terrified.

Not a single living survivor spared. Even in death, there was no peace. Their souls were eternally trapped within their already dead bodies, becoming living corpses—enduring endless suffering while watching their own flesh rot away, until nothing remained but dry bones.

—

Her own situation… was similar to the Blood Witch.

Neither of them had undergone a proper Witch’s Feast during their transformation—and both involved blood.

The act of blood-drinking, aside from being normalized within the unique ecology of vampires, was a near-untouchable taboo everywhere else.

Especially for a witch—no one could guarantee that Peleti wouldn’t one day become the next Masha.

She couldn’t help but feel relieved that disguising herself as the Witch of Consumption had been the right decision.

—

“Eh! What kind of grass is this? It looks so fresh and juicy… seems tasty… I’ll try it.”

“Oh? Aquatic grass? You can eat this? Never seen it before—let’s see if it causes any problems.”

“Mmm… Olivia, aren’t you going to try some? It tastes pretty refreshing!”

Peleti chewed on a bright green blade of aquatic grass, her cheeks slightly puffed, looking at the elf girl beside her with clear, innocent eyes—as if she were simply sharing a novel snack.

The plant she had just picked was still dripping with water.

Olivia couldn’t help but take out a handkerchief and wipe the corner of Peleti’s mouth.

“N-no… I’m not hungry. But… weren’t you drinking blood? Why are you eating grass now?”

In Olivia’s mind, Qingcheng had always been that silent, aloof, untouchable figure.

Clearly the same soul’s continuation—so how had it turned into something so… abstract with Peleti?

She clearly remembered that Peleti’s Witch’s Feast was related to blood.

So why, the moment she arrived in the Elf Forest, was she suddenly going after every plant in sight?

Did Qingcheng always love grass this much?

—

“You just don’t get it~” Peleti lifted her chin slightly, a hint of smugness in her voice as she lowered it conspiratorially. “From the God of Gluttony, I got the ability to make anything taste good!”

“That way, I can perfectly disguise myself as the ‘Witch of Consumption.’ I don’t have to worry about exposing the secret of my light element, and I can hide the troublesome ‘blood feast’ too.”

“Even for the sake of disguise…” Olivia watched as Peleti casually plucked another leaf from a decorative plant by the roadside and popped it into her mouth with practiced ease. The corner of her eye twitched almost imperceptibly. “…you don’t have to personally demonstrate it in public like this, do you?”

—

With Olivia accompanying her, the surrounding elves limited their reactions to mere glances.

Otherwise, Peleti’s behavior—plucking ornamental plants—would have surely earned her a scolding.

Olivia fully understood why Peleti wanted to hide her blood-related feast.

But this method was… far too eye-catching.

Elves valued etiquette and elegance deeply—especially in public settings.

Walking around, casually plucking things and eating them like this… was, in elven eyes, rather wild.

Ever since learning about Masha’s past from Olivia, Peleti had been eating everywhere she went—almost as if she was afraid others wouldn’t notice she was vegetarian.

And that was exactly the effect she wanted.

—

The only difference was—

Her own Witch’s Feast had likely been triggered accidentally when her magic was drained by Vinica.

But now that she thought about it, that battle hadn’t involved just her and Vinica.

Both Lumen and Lierna—two gods—had been watching.

Her Witch’s Feast had very likely been triggered under Lumen’s influence.

—

Olivia looked at the girl beside her, happily chewing on mugwort leaves, and felt an inexplicable sense of helplessness… like taking care of a child.

—

At that moment, an older male elf passed by. Seeing Peleti’s behavior, he coughed awkwardly, his tone clearly disapproving:

“Hey, young lady over there—how old are you? How can you behave like this in public?”

“Sir, is your eyesight not very good?” Peleti swallowed what was in her mouth, blinked, and replied confidently, “I’m obviously only 21!”

The elf choked slightly at being called “sir,” but upon hearing the number 21, most of his displeasure instantly dissipated.

He looked her over carefully.

Though she was tall and already carried the budding charm of a young woman, her eyes were clear and transparent, and her behavior carried a kind of naïve, unworldly directness.

“Forget it. No need to argue with a child.”

He shook his head and walked away.

The surrounding elves, who had been watching Peleti with judgmental eyes, also seemed to come to an understanding.

To elves, who often lived for centuries, 21 years old was practically equivalent to a toddler who had just learned to walk.

A few breaches of etiquette suddenly became forgivable.

—

“You’re… 21?”

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