"I had thought Sinvira, an old-established empire with a high-magic civilization, would at least have some courage to fight to the bitter end.
I never imagined I was wrong.
They had long since rotted to the core.
With a country like this, it was hard to say whether its actual strength amounted to even twenty or thirty percent of its strength on paper. It might not even be ten percent-or less!"
After confirming that no one was playing a joke on him with this news, Roland rubbed his temples and sighed inwardly.
On paper, Sinvira was certainly not weak.
But beset by troubles at home and abroad, its factions held one another back. Afraid of losing their grip on power, they chose to surrender their sovereignty and humiliate their country just to cling to survival.
The Grand Mages were all afraid to confront Shank's avatar directly. If they were injured, crippled, or even killed, their families and factions might fall in standing and become second- or third-rate powers.
Those who managed to preserve their strength would have no regard for heroes and martyrs, or for serving their country and its people.
All they would see was that their political enemies had lost the means to oppose them. From then on, every matter in Sinvira, great or small, would be theirs to decide. They would truly hold power.
Conversely, if everyone gave up together, moved the Academy's wealth, and retreated to the colonies, they could still preserve their power and status.
In a moment, Roland had seen through the thoughts of every faction.
But even knowing all this, there was little he could say.
What could he possibly say about Sinvira's affairs?
Antonia and the others, however, greeted the news with mixed feelings.
He contacted Roland in secret and instructed him,