After that came a brief silence. Gawain focused on admiring the intricate patterns on the cup before him, while Rosetta fell into a short period of thought. Beltira, meanwhile, seemed somewhat lost in thought—she gazed at the shifting symbols and geometric structures in the distant sky, narrowing her eyes slightly as though calculating something.
"I once wondered what you would speak to me about if we ever had a chance to talk face-to-face like this, with both sides being relatively open," Rosetta suddenly broke the silence. He looked at Gawain, his sunken eye sockets seeming to hold pools of deep water. "To be honest, I never imagined that an Outworld Wanderer would speak to me about... ideals and the future."
"If we do not dare speak of ideals and the future even in the world of the mind, then this world truly has no future," Gawain said with a smile. He raised his teacup slightly toward Rosetta. "I am not actually an idealist. I place greater faith in practical experience and natural laws, in tangible interests and the laws of things that can be measured through reason. But precisely because of that, when I speak of ideals, I am absolutely serious."
Rosetta glanced at the teacup before him. The liquid within reflected the clear blue sky, and everything seemed as flawless as the real world. He casually said, "Then for the sake of our great shared ideal, will Cecil withdraw its troops unconditionally?"
"No," Gawain said flatly. "And I will demand a good price."
"Ah, that puts me much more at ease," Rosetta said. A trace of relaxation actually appeared on his ever-gloomy face as he lifted his teacup. "Then we can continue all this at the negotiating table afterward."
Gawain returned the smile. The two of them had finally