Only One Day Left

Gilbert took a long look at Tales.

"I can't make any rash assertions."

Even with only the two of them facing one another, the Former Foreign Minister remained precise and restrained in his choice of words:

"Perhaps they truly had old grudges. Perhaps they refused to submit to one another. Perhaps the king's decrees had been poorly implemented and heavily discounted in the Western Wasteland for years. Perhaps the whole thing was merely an accident..."

But Gilbert narrowed his eyes:

"However, from the perspective of your father's rule and your own, Your Highness, whether they colluded, whether it was merely a coincidence, or whether it was both, brought about by an unspoken understanding..."

"Does that still matter?"

Tales looked stunned as he listened.

Gilbert took a deep breath, his expression utterly solemn:

"The Western Wasteland is like a rough, uneven flatbread, sometimes slippery, sometimes stubbornly tough. It has hard, tooth-cracking sections and sticky parts that cannot be cut through. Whether you chew it slowly or devour it in great bites, it is hard to get your mouth around from any angle, let alone digest."

"Compared to that, whether it is Arendt of the Northern Territory, who took a desperate gamble; Nanshuister of the Cliffs, whose extreme rigidity made him prone to breaking; or even Cavendil of the Southern Shore, young and hot-blooded..."

Gilbert shook his head, the wariness and worry in his eyes only deepening.

"So, do you understand the significance of Baron Williams?"

Tales stared blankly at him, still unable to react.

Gilbert gave a soft chuckle:

"That's right. Compared to his illustrious reputation for making a name for himself in the desert, everyone who has truly come into contact with the inside story knows this: Wing of Legend relied on his abilities to become arrogant and conceited, difficult