Andesa leaned against the terrace railing and narrowed her eyes in the breeze. From here, gazing toward the outer edge of the Thorin Giant Tree, she could vaguely make out the Holy Spirit Plain—a narrow curtain illuminated by daylight, stretching endlessly along the horizon. Its backdrop was pure white. That should have been the snow covering the plains, shouldn't it?
Without turning around, she softly broke the silence. "I know it wasn't easy for you to say these things to me. From your perspective, you must believe this would truly benefit both Cecil and Typhon, right?"
"In fact, that is the case," Bard said. "Our greatest threat now is the 'Divine Disaster,' and soldiers capable of fighting it are the key to determining the war's outcome. Both nations face the same threat. Under these circumstances, overcoming the crisis is what matters most."
"And after the crisis?" Andesa turned around, her remaining eye quietly watching Bard. "Will Cecil and Typhon become eternal comrades and partners from then on, forgetting all past grievances and cooperating closely, with everyone living safely and happily together?"
"...No." Bard looked at his daughter. After several seconds, he answered calmly, "From my analysis, even if this crisis ends peacefully and the two nations establish some form of postwar balance or alliance, that balance and alliance will only be temporary. Competition will continue forever, and when one side develops a fatal weakness, it will once again become the seed of war. There are no eternal comrades or partners in this world, especially between nations."
"The technology for mass-producing Supernatural Beings is one of Typhon's foundations. I cannot say what the future will bring, but at this stage, it guarantees our military strength. Perhaps the Cecilians truly only wish to train soldiers capable of resisting Divine Contamination... but after