In the Magic Furnace Room, Vili and Gandalf were still talking. The magical elements took on the form of a woman, and she said to the old mage, "Tideweaver, you've been Suren's Subordinate God for even longer than I've been a god. Over the past tens of thousands of years, civilizations have risen and fallen, each creating entirely new paths of magic.
Yet ever since the Humans, Beastmen, and Elves inherited the remnants of Goblin Civilization, they've done little more than live among its vast old cities. Their understanding and use of magic have never measured up to that of the Goblins.
Do you really want the three powers of the Eastern Continent to carry on doing nothing? To let the Goblins' Magic Furnaces slowly fall into disrepair, and return to the dark ages?"
Gandalf shook his head, his face full of helplessness and sorrow. "But manufacturing Magic Furnaces is still far too dangerous for Humans!"
The goddess was unmoved by Gandalf's words. "No path is entirely safe. From the moment they came into contact with Magic Furnaces, they couldn't enjoy their benefits while refusing to accept their risks."
She paused, then asked, "But what about you? If there are no new Magic Furnaces, how do you, Tideweaver, plan to withstand Heride's Magic Tide?"
After leaving the Magic Furnace Room, Landen was escorted back to the castle by Fiana. The Great Fairy seemed quite relaxed along the way, looking completely confident in Gandalf.
Landen studied his Great Fairy's expression, utterly unable to figure her out.
"Fiana? Are you sure it's all right to leave Gandalf there?" They were nearly at the castle when Landen finally couldn't hold back the question. "I remember Ben Kaul once said that Gandalf was cursed by the Magic Web?"
Fiana didn't even turn around.