It was late at night, and the number of people dining at the hotel restaurant, whose riverside night view was exceptionally beautiful, had gradually dwindled. As the original guests left table by table, whether by design or coincidence, no new customers arrived.
And at that moment, what Diablo and the other two had just seen was indeed no mistake. The four people who had been chatting amicably at this table were gradually beginning to disagree.
Or—
Perhaps they had held certain ideological and political differences from the very beginning, but because both sides had been trying to keep them under control, they had only now been forced to boil over?
"Hmph!"
"You little brat!"
"Would I be right in saying that you, esteemed Archmage Annie Hastur, are the mastermind behind all this and the one who commands the demons of Hell? That you're the source of all this evil?"
To be honest, even back in Middle-earth, Gandalf had already been rather displeased with a certain little girl for recklessly disrupting his plans and forcefully annexing the former lands of the Kingdom of Arnor!
Had Eru Ilúvatar not intervened at the very last moment, when they were fighting against the forces of Mordor, Gandalf might well have come into conflict with that little girl.
Especially whenever he remembered how, back then, he had finally managed to trick Aragorn into bringing in an army of Wraiths powerful enough to secure the throne of Gondor and decide the outcome of the war—only for that Queen of Alicia to purify them for no reason. With no hope of turning the tables, he had watched their last chance slip away, Aragorn miss out on the throne, and the Kingdom of Alicia throw its weight around in Middle-earth. Gandalf couldn't help but seethe with anger!
According