In an open field far from the Capital, two women stood face-to-face.
Both were striking beauties, each possessing a charm that could captivate nations. The first was a mature woman who appeared to be in her thirties.
Sultry, voluptuous, and impossibly alluring. Her blonde hair cascaded like liquid gold, and her emerald eyes carried a seductive pull that could unravel any man with a single glance.
Yet Isadora, Apostle of Lust, never needed to seduce anyone. Her mere presence was enough for men to gravitate toward her like moths to a flame. She embodied both obscene power and irresistible charm.
Opposite her stood a different kind of beauty—ethereal, refined, and breathtaking in a quiet, regal way. She was barely in her twenties, with pristine white hair that never seemed to tangle and ruby eyes that exuded an air of absolute authority.
Yue Elune didn't draw men with desire, but with awe; her presence was like a serene moonrise that men admired from a respectful distance.
