Andesha held onto the railing of the balcony and squinted her eyes in the breeze. She could vaguely see the scenery of the Plains of the Holy Spirit from the edge of the Solin Tree. There seemed to be a long, narrow curtain that was illuminated by the sky, extending along the horizon into the distance. The background of the curtain was pure white. That should be the snow in the plains, right?
She did not turn around and softly broke the silence. "I know it's not easy for you to say this in front of me. From your perspective, you must think that this matter is beneficial to both Cecil and Typhon, right?"
"That's the truth," Bard said. "Our biggest threat now is the 'Divine Calamity', and the soldiers who can resist the Divine Calamity are the key to the war. Both countries are facing the same threat, and it's important to survive this crisis."
"Then what will happen after the crisis?" Andesha turned around and looked at Bard with her remaining eye. "Will Cecil and Typhon become eternal comrades-in-arms and partners? Will they be able to live happily together without holding any grudges against each other?"
"… No." Bard looked at his daughter and calmly said after a few seconds. "From my perspective, even if this crisis ends peacefully, and the two countries form some kind of balance or alliance after the war, this balance and alliance will only be temporary. The competition will continue forever, and when one side shows a fatal weakness, it will become a hidden danger of war again. There is no such thing as eternal comrades and partners in this world, especially at the level of countries. "
"Mass production of Extraordinaires is one of the foundations of Typhon. I can't say what will happen in the future, but at least for now, this is the guarantee of our military strength. Maybe Cecil and his people really only want to train a group of soldiers to fight against the Divine Calamity … But after the Divine Calamity is over, will they still think so? Mass production of Extraordinaires and mass production of war machines, what will Typhon use to fight against this kind of power? " Andesha shook her head. "I'm a narrow-minded and inflexible person. Maybe Gwen Cecil is standing at the height of all humans, and maybe His Majesty Rosetta is standing at the same height, but I'm not.
"I only stand in my own position, so in my opinion, there is no room for negotiation.
"Perhaps I am not qualified to say this with my current identity, but I still have to say it. Why do all the good things fall into the hands of Cecil's people?"
Bard looked at Andesha quietly. After a long while, he slowly revealed a smile: "Your grandfather raised you well."
Andesha did not reply. She quietly gazed at the scenery in the distance. After a long silence, she suddenly said in a low voice, "From the overall situation, the best choice is for Cecil and Typhon to work together to defend against this calamity, right?"
"It would be much easier if things were that simple." Bard smiled. "Unfortunately, even two mighty rulers cannot 'knead' two countries together as if they are made of mud."
"So, whether Cecil wants Typhon's technology, or wants to use his own technology in exchange for it, or even if the two countries want to cooperate and communicate more thoroughly, they should not be looking for a breakthrough from me," Andesha said slowly. "As a soldier, no matter what righteous reason there is, it is treason if I hand over those things. There are some things that His Majesty can do, but I can't."
Bard was silent for a few seconds before he sighed: "Andesha, you've really grown up …"
"Your words are too late," Andesha looked at her father with a faint smile on her face. She then took a deep breath in the healthy breeze of Thorin. "I've been out for too long. Before Sister Marian takes any coercive measures, I better return to my room."
Bard subconsciously took half a step forward: "Do you need me to send you back?"
"No need, I'm not that weak." Andesha waved her hand and slowly turned around. She moved her feet uncomfortably and walked towards the exit of the balcony.
It was only when her figure had completely disappeared behind the door that Bard slowly retracted his gaze. A small voice came from a crack in the wall nearby: "You two don't seem like a conversation between father and daughter. It's more like two military officers discussing the war situation with a serious face."
Bard looked down and saw a small flower bud swaying in the wind between the cracks of the wall. He raised his eyebrows: "Didn't you say you wanted to leave? Is hiding in a corner to eavesdrop your way of avoiding the conversation? "
As soon as his voice trailed off, a large number of vines gushed out from the edge of the balcony, and Bertila's figure condensed and took shape. The latter walked steadily from the air to the balcony, with no expression on his slightly wooden face. "I have indeed retreated, a ceremonial retreat. All of you are standing on my body, how can I avoid it? I'm already hiding in the cracks between the bricks. "
Bard felt his eyebrows twitching: "… … Why didn't I find out that you're such a cunning woman in the past ten years? Is this also the credit of the 'brain' you created for yourself? "
Bertilla did not answer Bard's question. She only looked at the direction where Andesha left and said casually: "It seems like there's no room for discussion. I thought you, as her 'father', would be able to sway her."
Bard sighed: "It's a pity that Andesha is more determined than we thought. His Majesty Gwen will be disappointed."
"This result is probably within his expectations … …" Bertilla did not sound regretful. She was just a little emotional: "Andesha … … Your daughter is actually a very clear-headed person. Although a lot of intelligence and the subjective judgment of third parties say that the current Wolf General is a cold, stubborn, inflexible warmonger, and has blind enmity towards Cecil, in my opinion, she may be more aware of the changes in the world and the relationship between countries than many politicians who talk in their official residences.
"It's just that she remembers her duty as a soldier."
"It's not easy to get such a high evaluation from you." Bard glanced at Bertilla. "But let's focus on the problem of the special forces … … The battle at the front line of Winterwolf Fort is getting more and more intense. Typhon's army is now full of carriers of mental corruption. Our soldiers have to fight against those things every day. The neural network has begun to detect the corruption of the God of War in the frontline nodes. If we can't find an effective way to resist it, the defensive line will have to be pulled back."
"I've checked the bodies of the Typhon battlemages in the prisoner camp in the name of a physical examination," Bertilla said casually. "Most of them did rely on alchemy potions and continuous external stimulation to change their nervous system … … To be honest, this kind of potion that can forcibly stimulate magic talent is not rare in other places, but basically it has serious side effects. It either weakens the body, permanently damages the nervous system, or causes the magic talent to be locked for life. But Typhon's catalytic technology has obviously solved these side effects … …"
"Those battlemages are very healthy, and their personal strength can even be improved to a limited extent through normal learning and training. Except for the lower upper limit and the difficulty of growth in the later stage, they are basically not much different from real mages.
"I've separated the blood samples of these people and scanned their nervous system, hoping to reverse-engineer their transformation process, but there's no clue … … It's obviously not that simple."
"That means this method won't work." Bard frowned. In his opinion, this was what Bertilla's series of technical descriptions meant. "… … I don't know if His Majesty will try to contact Oldenheim, but in the current situation, it's impossible for the two countries to establish a technical exchange channel while fighting a war … …"
"So, I'm thinking of another solution … …" Bertilla said unhurriedly.
"Another solution?" Bard was stunned for a moment, and then looked at the former pope in surprise. "You've thought of a way?"
"A new technical route. Perhaps we can use other methods to enhance the adaptation and control of magic power for ordinary people, such as an additional set of nervous systems … … Naretil told me some knowledge about neural networks, and there's a concept called 'wetware computing nodes', which is very interesting … …"
Bard looked at Bertilla and suddenly felt a chill for no reason. Although it was spring all year round in the Sorin region, he still subconsciously rubbed his arms. "Damn it … … Don't do any more bloody experiments, or I'll be the first to report you."
Bertilla glanced at him. "Of course not. My every move is under the surveillance of the Magic Net, and I've long lost interest in those stupid experiments. I'll follow the standard procedure and submit an application and report to Minister Rebecca."
… …
Oldenheim.
The snow that had lasted for several days had finally stopped, but the fog that followed once again shrouded the imperial capital on the plains. The sky in Oldenheim was still gloomy, but compared to the days of wind and snow, there was a trace of sunshine and warmth today.
A tall and thin man wearing a black count's cloak, with ribbons and sigils on his body, walked in the long corridor of the Obsidian Palace. His face had a hint of coldness, his nose was high, and his eyes were slender. This was the typical face of a northerner in Typhon.
Under the guidance of a maid, he walked through the long corridor of the Obsidian Palace and came to the reception room that Rosetta Augustus used most often. He pushed open the heavy oak door with a complicated coat of arms with golden lines and stepped in. Rosetta Augustus was sitting on a high-back chair by the fireplace. He looked up from his book when he heard the movement at the door.
"Count Cremonte Dart." Rosetta looked at the tall and thin man who appeared at the door and nodded slightly. "You're very punctual."
"Punctuality is a tradition of the Dart family." The man called Cremonte walked towards Rosetta, and the door of the reception room closed behind him. As the wooden door closed, he bowed to the ruler of the empire in front of him. "According to the law, I'm here to bid you farewell."
His etiquette was impeccable, and his words were very standard. However, all of this was like a machine — precise, but without any emotion or warmth.
But Rosetta obviously did not care.
"Tomorrow morning, you'll be on the first train to the front line." He nodded. "I wish you a smooth journey. I also wish you bravery in battle and glory."
Cremonte Dart straightened up and stared at Rosetta with his slender eyes. This stare lasted for a few seconds before he looked away and said faintly, "Thank you for your blessings."
At this point, all the necessary etiquette was done.
He took half a step back and was about to leave. But before he spoke, Rosetta suddenly asked, "Is there anything else you want to say? We may not have a chance to talk like this again. "
Cremonte stared at Rosetta for a long time before he said, "Are you wavering now?"
"I'm unwavering."
"Okay, I understand." Cremonte nodded and turned to look at the door of the reception room. "Then I'll watch you from the soil of Winterwolf Fort. I'll keep watching until you really achieve the prosperity you described — or fall into the abyss and be consigned to eternal damnation."
After saying this, the noble of Typhon strode away and left the reception room without any hesitation.
In the large room, Rosetta Augustus sat quietly on a chair. After the door closed again, he looked up at the mechanical clock not far away.
"You stayed for two minutes. Not bad."
He softly muttered to himself, casually playing with a small gemstone. The gemstone was about the size of a thumb, and its overall shape was like an eye. It was pitch-black, but its black surface seemed to be constantly flickering with faint light, as if an illusory starry sky was sealed inside.
This "glimmering" gemstone rolled lightly in Rosetta's hand for a while before he suddenly stopped. The faint starlight on the surface of the gemstone seemed to have some kind of inertia. As the light gradually stabilized and solidified, a tiny thing gradually emerged from the dark depths of the gemstone.
It became clearer little by little and finally showed the details. It was Malcolm Dunnett's face, a dull and lifeless face.
Rosetta Augustus stared blankly at the face that emerged from the surface of the gemstone. After a long time, he smiled slightly. "Are you pretending that you are an empty shell without consciousness?"
The dull and lifeless Malcolm Dunnett in the gemstone suddenly "came to life". He glared at Rosetta fiercely and his sarcastic voice shook the air around the gemstone. "What you have trapped is just an avatar! The real me has long been one with the glory of the Lord. You will never understand that great and beyond human wisdom. Continue to be smug here. As a mortal, you are not even qualified to stand on the opposite side of the Lord. This war itself will devour you and your pathetic family! "
Rosetta quietly looked at the face that emerged from the gemstone. He was not angry at all and his voice was as calm as usual. "Yes … what you said makes some sense. As a mortal, it is really difficult to come into contact with the high and mighty God … Solving such a difficult problem can be said to be endless fun."
He slightly exerted force with his fingers and a powerful magic was poured into the gemstone. With a slight crisp sound and a faint roar, the gemstone and the spirit trapped in it were instantly turned into ashes.
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