"Remember what you're saying now, Andrew,"
The old man sighed deeply once again and lightly slapped the documents onto the desk with a flick. His profound and sorrowful gaze turned toward the window.
Under the setting sun, the floating Mage Towers in the distance looked like slowly advancing aerial fortresses, with blood and fire becoming the backdrop of the sunset.
"Pope..."
Although Andrew was not rejected, he did not receive a definite reply, so he was somewhat unwilling to let it go. He gathered the documents on the desk and, still hopeful, probed further, "Do you lean more towards... what is called 'Death of Purity'?"
"Andrew, you must remember. We stand against the Mages not because they are wrong and we are right. Those are words for the believers, not for us to believe in,"
The old man said leisurely, "The true reason this war started is only one—that is, we both exist in this world. And this world is too small; it can only accommodate either 'Church' or 'Mage'.
