"Escape? Hide? Pointless?"
With a cold voice and without any dissatisfaction or anger, Father Andersen spoke as he put on glasses chewed up and spit out, with only one lens remaining, his disgust bearing the purity of spitting out dirty food and rinsing the mouth.
"Tell me to give up? You actually tell me to give up? That's just like you weaklings who cling to others' coattails, those who can do nothing without a powerful backer, without the will of the world, without that monster as your support—'conquering the world,' 'reviving the kingdom,' you only dare to dream of these things like a beaten dog. Give up? It truly suits you."
Fingers clasped firmly around the hilt, silver blade emerging into the air, his broad hands resembling massive iron claws.
"Don't underestimate us! Monster! Bring it on, I'll keep you company until the end!"
