"Thought-inducing magic"?　It doesn't work. I've never seen it in the literature, never heard of it in the mouths of men.

　She tensed her arms and pursed her lips in embarrassment.

　I could feel my face turning pale as I heard those words.

　I couldn't think of what to say next. I could feel my thoughts becoming slightly sluggish.

　If what she said was true, her plan to win over the inhabitants of the poorhouse would fall apart at the seams.

"...... Oh, ......, that may not be the name. The name may be different, but it's a spell that uses the scent of an elegant flower to vaporize a person's consciousness. I'm sure you have a piece of it in your mind.

　I remembered seeing that fantastic scene during a trip once.

　I remember seeing a fantastic sight of it in my travels once, a magic that made petals dance from its slender fingertips, made the wind sway, and calmed people in the midst of chaos. In my past travels, I had used that magic to stop a riot that had nearly broken out in the Garlist Kingdom.

　With that kind of magic, I assumed that no matter how much apathy and resignation had taken hold of their bodies, they would be able to regain some of their will.

　But it was completely unexpected that Fialaat, at this time, was not only unable to use this magic, but was not even aware of it.

"No. You're underestimating it. Magic that can affect people's thoughts isn't something that's easy to come by, and besides, those ......

　Her dark eyes averted as if she were blatantly running away.

　A slender finger was twirled, and the lips repeatedly opened and closed as if searching for words. It was as if she was trying to figure out how to formulate something difficult to say.

　Her eyes darted around for a few moments, and then the words finally fell out of her throat.

I'm not allowed to use magic right now. ...... At least, not to antagonize Garouamalia. ......

　The words slipped into the room awkwardly. It's not that I'm not a good person, but I am.

　For a brief moment, the room was frozen in silence, if only for a moment. He couldn't blink, and his eyes remained fixed on Fialaat, immobile.

　Largd-Anne's voice, "Huh," warmed the room slightly.

"Oh... ...... I see... No, you're right. I've been wondering. I've been wondering how you managed to get me out of that mess without God conveniently reaching out to you.

　In other words, he implicitly tells me that there must have been a deal between him and Held Stanley.

　As if to affirm this, Fialaert lightly tucks his chin, his eyes still wandering awkwardly. Each time, he looks at me as if to ask how I'm doing.

　It can't be helped. There's nothing I can do about it. It's too good to be true that Fialaat alone can get me out of there. There should be some kind of price to pay. In fact, it should be considered a good deal because I wasn't tied up and stuck in that place.

　I can only understand Heldt's intentions to a certain extent, but I am curious to see how his justice would have decided. Given the lizard's wild behavior, perhaps the actions of his own people gave him some room for compromise.

　Otherwise, there would be no reason for me to go on playing tricks in the poorhouse.

There's nothing wrong with that. Then you can move on to the next one.

　He said this with as much care as possible not to accuse Fialat and not to make his words harsh.

　His dark eyes, which had been fading, seemed to have regained some of their brightness. It would be unfair to blame her for doing the best she could at that moment.

　But despite the softness of her words, my heart is in a panic. An unmistakable frustration overflowed from my chest, one after the other.

　Disgusting. Very bad. If I may say so, when it came to persuading the inhabitants of the poorhouse, I was completely relying on Fialaat's magic.

　Even if he couldn't use the magic of the flower, he thought he could at least incite the hearts of the people through the glimmer of his magic.

　She glanced at Anne, catching Fialaert's gaze.

　The slightly twitchy expression on her face is telling. He asks, "Are you sure you don't have any other ideas?

...... I have two ideas.

　In response to Anne's expression, he held up two fingers.

　It's not a great idea, but it's not a good idea. In fact, I doubt it's even a good idea.

　I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my guilt and lack of confidence. Anne and Fialaert looked at me with their lips still closed.

　I'm not sure.

One, I'm giving up trying to win them over. In the short term, I think it's better if the ghettos don't even function.

　He took a chewing tobacco from his pocket, put it between his fingers, and played with it lightly with his teeth. Two expectant glances seemed to pierce her body.

　Anne is probably aware of this strategy. And she's probably already considering it as a worst-case scenario. She just hasn't chosen to do so because the losses would be too great in the long run.

　Leaning back in his chair, protecting his side, he says.

"In other words, make the poorhouse your first target. It's a place with no sense of defense or disaster preparedness. They burn well. And they'll die. The whole ghetto will turn into a crematorium.

　Anne's eyes narrowed, not hiding her cleverness, while Fialaert's eyes peeled back as if her words had upset her.

　Of course. It's not an option I want to take either. But I'm not pure enough to make a clean slate now. In fact, my soul is quite dirty.



　I knew that if I was going to use the battlefield for my own glory, I was very far away from the purity of soul and the right way of being that the Great Saints advocated.

　If there really was an afterlife, the angels would certainly not welcome me. But if God wanted me to live a pure life while being trampled on miserably. If that's what you're saying, I don't want that. I'd rather shake your hand off and spit on you.

Not really the way I want to go, hero. As a result, even if we can achieve the fall of Galuamaria, we can't leave behind a dysfunctional city as a legacy.

　Anne nodded her chin, "Except as a last resort. On the contrary, Fialaat blinked her eyelashes and pursed her lips.

　The wrinkles between her eyebrows indicate that she probably disagrees with this opinion.

You don't have to do that, you can just change their minds with your words.　A great general can turn even the weakest soldier into a strong soldier with a single word. Especially since you're so good with words.

　Fialaert's voice was tinged with an attempt to hide the fact that he was upset. I don't want to disagree with you, but I don't think I want to take that step," he said.

"Well, ...... that's the second way. But hey, it's a long shot, I know how they feel. It's like the old me, you know. A mind that's made friends with resignation has no power to hold on to anything.

　It would have been better if Fialat had said that.

　A girl from a foreign country, and a beautiful one at that, might get some people to listen to her. Or even Anne. Given her interpersonal skills, it's not surprising that she has some resonance.

　But not me.

"Fie alert. I think you're making a mistake. You don't think that words have the power to move people, do you?

　He exhales lightly and says. I could feel the flavor of the chewing tobacco permeating my lungs.

"Look, words have no power. It's not what you say, it's who says it.

　A great general can turn a weak soldier into a strong soldier with a single word. But it is not because of the weight of his words. But it is not because the words are heavy, but because they were spoken by him that they carry weight.

　What if the same words were spoken by an ordinary general? Even if the words are exactly the same, even if the tone of voice is the same, the soldiers will perceive them differently.

　Yes, words have no power. Words can't change people, they can't do anything by themselves. I've learned that the hard way.

　There have been many times when words that were supposed to be right and theories that were supposed to be sound have been tarnished.
　How many times have I been stigmatized? How many times have I been framed?

　No one listened to me when I was right. No one would listen to me when I told them what I saw.

　Everyone listened to the better-dressed one. Yeah, yeah, that's a given now. Good arguments don't have any power.

　I squint and turn my face slightly down. The pain crawling up from my side is strangely dull.

You're the only one who can help me.

　Just when the air in the room was feeling heavy, Fialaert's voice was thrown into the room with a whisper.

　Slowly, she looked up. Her eyes didn't look like she was planning anything, just genuinely questioning.

　Her small lips opened again.

"I am, Lugis. I'm here because of what you said. I can't help but think I'm an idiot. Really. But I have no choice. It resonated deep inside me that it was good.

　Her cheeks fluttered with a hint of color.

　What the hell is this, a joke? What am I doing? Am I being complimented now? Fiorato La Volgograd. The one who refused to acknowledge my words, my very existence.

　She took a step closer, the floorboards squeaking. The gaze I had raised involuntarily was drawn to her dark eyes.

"You can't tell me now that you can't do something because you're not strong enough. No, I won't. You won't end up as lead. You're not going to end up as lead, you're not going to end up as gold, because I'm determined to make you gold, even if it means twisting the rules of the world.

　Fialaat's eyes drew closer. The distance between you and her closes alarmingly. I could see my reflection in her dark eyes. Our breaths almost met. Such a distance.

　Then, in a voice that only I could hear, but Anne couldn't, Fialaert whispered.

　--Oh, but if you want to run away, fine. I'll make a way for both of us.

　She said, as if to raise a third option.



　It's a sweet voice, like a finger directly licking the pulsating heart. It's the kind of sound that caresses the pillars of the soul and squeezes out the spirit of resistance.

　A small hand touches the wound. It's not magic. Perhaps she's blocked me from interfering.

　But strangely, no pain leaks out from her side. There was only a warm feeling.