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When coming from the executor of a Victorian duke's will, this just sounds like sarcasm.

Based on our analysis, Theresis may be formidable, but his strength alone is not enough for Victoria to fall to such lows, where it finds itself at the mercy of others.

And now I get it. You chose to do nothing.

You simply watched as the flames of war engulfed your country.

Amiya, the little leader of Rhodes Island. How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen? You are still a child, even.

You despise blood and war, but let me clarify this. We are not very fond of these things either.

But to us, the objective of war is never war itself. War is an extension of politics. The Sarkaz needs a war to unite themselves, and Victoria doesn't necessary lack the need for one.

However, around whom we unite is worthy of discussion.

And for just that, you—

This is very important. It is far more important than you could imagine.

War is cruel. Suffering and death follow in its wake. It exposes our barest, truest forms to one another. It tears off all disguises.

At certain stages of history's ever-forward march, we need this kind of honesty. All of us do.

Now make your preparations, Rhodes Island. It is time for us to depart.

Molly! They caught you, too?!

Lettou, she's just a teacher. The children in school still need to be cared for.

You have already destroyed what you came to destroy. Must you drag even more innocents into this mess?

You're here, Your Excellency.

The Banshee came looking for trouble with one of us again.

I will send a unit to provide support.

No need. Taking a walk with him isn't so bad.

You should go to the Old Red-Eye. He had just opened a new bottle of wine, waiting for you, and we have already grown tired of his stories of yesteryear.

You are a much better listener than us.

—Understood. Please pardon me, then.

You...

Golding's throat has never felt this dry. The person in front of her looks and acts exactly the same as the Molly she remembers, down to the tiniest movements.

She is always frowning a little, watching every move of the mischievous children. At suppertime, she would hand out bread to everyone and chastise anyone who hasn't washed hands.

Her expression is the same as ever, but for some reason...

The drop of sweat dripping down Golding's back seeps into her clothes.

Lance scratched his thumb again yesterday, but don't worry. I've put on some ointment.

He's always such a handful.

What... are you...?

The teacher has made it back to the school already. She will take good care of the children, I'm sure.

How about a chat?

Relax. It's just a chat. If you still don't feel comfortable, we can continue to use the identity of the owner of this appearance around you.

Why don't we talk about the weather first, or perhaps the children's studies? There is the play too, Lady Golding. Merely thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.

The children have all grown so big in just the blink of an eye.

Enough. Stop talking to me like you're Molly! Stop using that face, you monster!

What... What do you want?

Would you like a cup of tea? Lettou has pretty fine tastes, and his tea here is exquisite.

We finally have a satisfying outcome for all the missions Theresis handed us. Now, we can take a short break.

How long have you been around me...?

Not as long as you think. Can we skip the boring work talk, though?

It's break time right now. We want to do something that we are truly interested in.

For example—

We want to know what you think about this era, and your conclusions around all this.

I don't understand.

You... You used me to destroy the Self-Salvation Corps. I should have no more value to you anymore.

I... Damn it! I handed all this out myself...

Don't blame yourself. This is no big deal at all. We had all kinds of ways to locate the Self-Salvation Corps' stronghold. You are not the only lead we have.

This may sound a little hurtful, but you aren't even the most important one.

But we do indeed have a little bit of interest on you. We enjoyed your work and chatting with you.

So, let's have a chat together. There is nothing more to this. It's just a conversation.

We've had conversations like this many times. With countless of identities. With countless others.

But we are still confused. We still don't want to give up any chances that could lead to an answer.

Lady Golding, how do you think—

—we should live?