Horace: "..." Are you serious?
Godwyn held his forehead and let out a sigh laden with past trauma.
"Uncle, don't believe him."
The golden prince waved a hand listlessly. "We charged in several times back then, and every time, we got thrown out. The Black Blade and the Tree Sentinel just stood there watching. I was sprawled on the ground, staring right at them. Do you know how awkward that was?"
Fortissax refused to accept that. He pointed at the distant storm and argued insistently, "That's the center of the storm. We just have to charge in."
"Yes, that is the center of the storm."
Godwyn was expressionless. "But the center of the storm and your 'center of the storm where my king resides' are two different centers. They aren't the same thing!"
The Ancient Dragon looked at Godwyn in confusion.
...There's a difference?
"There's a huge difference!"
Listening to the exchange between uncle and nephew, Horace gradually found himself speechless.
He had laid out such a convincing analysis earlier: Godwyn must have gone to Crumbling Farum Azula for Destined Death, challenging the Dragon Lord was just a pretext, and the boy might seem reckless, but he actually knew what he was doing...
Now he just wanted to swallow all those analyses.
So when you came to Crumbling Farum Azula back then, you really meant "challenge the Dragon Lord" literally?
You didn't even find where the Dragon Lord was, just blindly rammed into the storm from outside, then let the Black Blade watch the whole thing like a monkey show?
So much for Destined Death.
So much for strategic intent.
So much for "I am a barbarian." You don't even qualify as one.
Horace drew a deep breath, feeling that his role as their external brain might have to retire