"Ophelia, I hope you will govern the Lostbelt according to your own will."
Across from the projector was no longer the expressionless man.
But a worried young woman.
"Lord Kirschtaria, I understand what you mean, but..."
Perhaps witnessing Ruslan and Caenis's battle had made her wary anew.
"Our positions have always been the same, Ophelia."
No further expression appeared on Kirschtaria's face.
"We are the ones who lead the Lostbelts. Once the Fantasy Trees take root, the Crypters are the key to allowing the worlds to fully develop."
"This is the responsibility we bear. It is impossible to leave it in someone else's hands."
He merely emphasized that point once more.
"...I understand."
Ophelia took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
Kirschtaria appeared to have said nothing, but in truth, he had said everything.
Ophelia was simply being overly anxious—he understood that.
Seeing Ophelia calm down, though her lips were still pressed tight, Kirschtaria smiled.
"The Queen of Ice and Snow is a powerful being who possesses both mercy and ruthlessness. Standing against her must place you under considerable pressure."
"...I hope you overcome this trial, Ophelia."
Kirschtaria closed his eyes, then spoke after a brief silence.
"Lord Kirschtaria."
Slowly raising her head, Ophelia stared blankly at Kirschtaria, who was smiling serenely from the other side of the transmission.
"I believe you possess that ability."
"Even when you find yourself in danger fierce enough to feel as though it is burning you, you will remain as calm and self-disciplined as ice and snow."
"That is why I entrusted Scandinavia to you."
"I wouldn't dare, I..."
Listening to Kirschtaria's praise, Ophelia showed a slightly flustered expression.
"I merely—I merely voiced all my thoughts according to my most honest judgment. That was not a correct prediction, but rather... an emotional..."