Unable to withstand Lette's persistent pestering, the poor Red Archbishop eventually complied and conducted a prayer, initiating a conversation with the Goddess.
The Holy Light Goddess Afra exclaimed in surprise, "Oh my, Delman, you're here again? Didn't I tell you to go back and rest?
I truly believe in your devotion, but you're also tired, and don't need to force yourself to chat with me.
Just let me talk to myself here, since you're all so busy, anyway.
Pope Paul III isn't well, and Cadwen is still quite fierce..."
"Ahem, Afra, it's me."
"It's you! Lette! You bastard! You..."
Lette pressed a hand on the Red Archbishop's shoulder, standing silently while listening to Afra's voice bursting like fireworks in his mind.
This Lady Goddess, if formally summoned, would indeed converse in a serious manner, appearing like a proper deity.
But in private, one-on-one dialogues, she'd instantly turn into a chatterbox!
A type that dislikes hanging up the conversation.
