"In other words, this course only held meaning for the weak."
Theresa raised a hand, wearing a dignified and polite smile. Her tone even carried a genuine desire to learn. "Then may I ask, how should we define 'the weak'?"
Pegasus gave an equally unconstrained answer. "If I think they are, then they are."
"There's no standard?" Theresa asked again.
"No. Drawing boundaries only has meaning when necessary. For example, some people have goals greater than anyone else's."
Gerald did not deliberately turn his gaze toward Nastya. He knew that unnecessary gestures at a time like this would only trouble the girl.
"In my eyes, that person might live as a weakling for a very, very long time, because her goal determines just how difficult the road ahead will be."
He casually plucked a small piece of Thorns from one of the Courtyard's stone pillars out of thin air, holding it as a symbol of suffering. "At the same time, some people only wish to find a place to sleep, eat, and spend their lives in idle comfort without fighting or competing. They obviously don't need much strength."
"Even if they are helpless in the face of an avalanche, someone who can still preserve themselves in ordinary times and feels content within cannot be considered weak in my eyes."
"Just like how you could kill me, and all of us might be killed by some super Feranmut from who-knows-where. That Feranmut might then be wiped out when a star crashed into Terra. When an avalanche truly comes, obsessing over whether someone is weak or not is meaningless in itself."
After hearing Gerald's words, Theresa lowered her eyes slightly, her fingertips unconsciously brushing the fabric over her knees as though pondering the deeper meaning hidden in his words.
A breeze drifted