The burden of inciting a civil war is not something any person with even a shred of reason or conscience would willingly or capably bear.
"But there's no more time...!!"
"Luckily, someone shares our thoughts."
Fafnir cast a sardonic glance toward a corner of the warehouse. Following her gaze, Roland groaned as though his stomach was in knots upon seeing the items piled there.
"Quantum Brainwave Sensing Framework..."
"An entire Mechanical Armor's worth, customized to fit the Flying Dragon's skeletal structure, no less. And they thoughtfully adjusted the details for gender differences, truly worthy of praise as a conscientious and genuine merchant. Don't you agree?"
(Not in the least.)
It was less thoroughgoing and more maliciously scheming, a trap that drew people into a thieves' ship of a black market store.
But now whether it's a thieves' ship or a pit of fire, he had no choice but to jump in. Otherwise, tens of thousands of people would die. Roland was well-aware of this.
