"Is Onassis really that strong?"
With a creak, the doors to the inner hall were pushed open, and Nausicaa, clad in soft armor, walked out. She had been the one who asked just now; clearly, she had heard Angel's words as well.
Angel nodded. "His strength lies in the fact that, for now, no one has found a way to counter his ability."
Nausicaa sat across from Alan. Using the burning Sweet Fire in Alan's hand, she lit the tobacco in her pipe, took a deep draw, and exhaled smoke that curled into the shape of roses. The weariness on her face promptly faded away.
"Sweet Fire paired with Silver-Scaled Rose tobacco... only today have I tasted such a soul-enrapturing delight. It makes me feel both fortunate and regretful." After sighing, Nausicaa turned back to Angel. "No way to counter his ability? Even you haven't seen through the workings of it?"
Angel said, "His ability is very unusual. Gloria and I have some guesses, but since we haven't experienced it firsthand, we can't confirm them."
Angel then explained his speculation.
Aside from Alan, who remained wholly focused on grilling meat, everyone else looked shocked and doubtful. Leon was dazed for a moment before asking Angel with great difficulty, "Philosophy can become a weapon too?"
"I don't know." Angel paused. "But why couldn't it?"
In this fantastical and resplendent world, whatever one thought and yearned for—even if it was merely an enigmatic concept—could become reality as long as there was a medium to carry it.
Why couldn't philosophy?
Of course, this was only Angel's conjecture. To carry philosophy, the required medium would inevitably be something they had never understood before. Thus, it remained an unknown.
"Whether philosophy is his weapon or not, is there really no chance of winning at all?