Arist said with a hoarse voice.
"I actually guessed it, but... I thought you were from Novel."
As if hearing an interesting joke, the Divine chuckled.
"Haha... Why? Because my form is 'mist'? Actually, I can transform into other shapes, anyway only you can see me."
As he spoke, the twisted gray mist dispersed, changing shapes in the air. Sometimes like a sword symbolizing slaughter, sometimes like a crown representing power,
eventually, it reformed into a wisp of smoke, coiling around the ring on his finger that symbolizes the power of the Thorne Association, as gentle as a harmless sparrow.
"I'm just a bit regretful. I didn't expect in the eyes of Chaos, I'm not a scholar." Arist smiled faintly, though his hoarse voice didn't sound regretful at all.
"Regret? Scholar? Are you talking about yourself? Or those professors just now?" The Proud Divine joked, yet there wasn't a hint of arrogance.
