"The appraisal was quite high."
Ian was somewhat surprised. At his side, a succession of electrical currents gathered, ultimately converging into the phantom image of a young, bespectacled man composed of blue lightning.
Master Vannar, the Mechanized Spirit Priest, looked exceedingly refined—indeed, he had the classic appearance of a literary scholar, with even a trace of youthful shyness in his expression. But if the records were accurate, Master Vannar had published his first groundbreaking paper eighty years ago and become an academic rising star of the Tranquil Sea.
He was over a hundred years old. Using this appearance was purely because he liked pretending to be young.
My appraisals have never been high or low. Only practical or impractical.
Master Vannar, who looked only slightly older than Ian, shook his head faintly. Smiling, he said, Grand Duke Silverpeak, ever since we began working together, your knowledge and planning have continued to astonish me.
Step by step, you forced Dastiel into a desperate corner, leaving him no choice but to challenge you. This way, even if he were defeated and lost all the territory of the Lower Blazing Flame Land, the other nations would not become overly alarmed. At most, they would mock the King of Embers for his recklessness and rash advance—and I can see quite clearly that this entire campaign of public opinion will only grow stronger with time.
Only a year and a half has passed since the Perpetual Motion Machine Declaration, yet the Blazing Flame Lands have already been drowned beneath an endless stream of doubters... I know many of them are paid turncoats, but in a few years, you will barely need to spend anything to have nearly free 'online propagandists' fighting for you.
And those exchange students have studied abroad for only a few months,