"Interesting, now what about you, child?" Malin asked with a smile. "I don’t know, but judging from everyone’s reaction, I probably don’t have it." Soren replied quite frankly. "Why do you think you don’t have it?" Malin was curious again. "Except for my father, no one likes me, not even my mother, and my cousin born in the Purple Chamber is different; he is the future King." The child answered Malin’s question with an extremely calm voice, then sniffled as it seemed that the cold wind pouring in from the open window had chilled the child a bit. So, Malin snapped his fingers, and all the bricks and stones of that window sealed themselves at the fastest speed they could achieve. Having done that, Malin smiled and raised his eyebrows: "Child, are you content?" "Malin, my child..." Old Hagelberry seemed not to want Malin to continue questioning, but Malin raised his hand to stop the old man from speaking. He was waiting for Soren’s response. And Soren gave his mentor a very satisfying answer. "What Fate doesn’t give me, why should I spend my life pursuing it? I don’t want to be the fool in everyone’s eyes, especially not the kind of fool who might give up his life at any moment." The child muttered something under his breath, but Malin couldn’t quite catch it—or rather, he could only match the shape of the lips, not hear any actual words. "Look, gentlemen, even a child can clearly understand his own fate. So, Karin, son of Doma, you who were born in the Purple Chamber... or should I say it this way," Malin looked at the man who was probably in his thirties, "You, Karin Doma, as a genetically modified person, a natural warrior, naturally started higher than mortals, you should understand better than any of your siblings who couldn’t enter the Purple Chamber all that I’m saying." "Do you know?" Karin was startled, and Malin could feel, besides Karin, Old Hagelberry, King Manheim, and many older Nobles looking at him differently. That was a gaze filled with caution and fear. Malin smiled: "Jason, come out and meet everyone." So, Jason crawled out from under Malin’s hood, surveyed the scene with a glance: "Interesting, the one who trapped himself in the Purple Chamber seems to be watching the situation here through the electronic eyes of some fellows as well, pal, you better hope I don’t find your Purple Chamber, or I’ll definitely open up your shabby little room’s ceiling with a tungsten rod." Then it laughed and crawled back under the hood. Malin observed the room, noting that the caution and fear in everyone’s eyes had vanished, replaced by confusion and puzzlement. "I have companions from before the Great Destruction Era, and I know a lot of things, so I can understand your theory of the strong. Having experienced so many years, you understand that only the strong can lead your kingdom through each Tide of the Dead, and indeed, in your eyes, serfs, commoners, all non-geniuses are expendable, including the son of a serf... and even the son of a King." Seeing the relaxed expressions on everyone’s faces, including King Manheim, Malin sighed inwardly. It wasn’t their fault; everyone was struggling to survive in this world, in a place where Chaos, the Tide of the Dead, and the Evil God existed, it was indeed as the Northerners said: only the strong can save, and with each generation born in the Purple Chamber and modified, they would become the vital force at the forefront in the next Tide of the Dead. Malin had to admit, this was indeed the most normal aspect of this era, all that humanity does in the face of the pressure to survive, is forgivable. But this world should not be , humanity should not become so ugly, what should I do, how can I make this world return to the way that I know. I want humankind to reclaim mastery of this world, not to become the ugliest of monsters in the struggle to survive. Thinking this and unable to find a reason, Malin stood up. Forget it, Malin told himself, he couldn’t bind this twisted world by what he had seen and heard of his own era. Should humanity still be divided into life-and-death struggles in the face of the imminent external threat of the Tide of the Dead? Forget it, Malin, after all, these people have also been killed, and it’s like taking revenge for those officers who fought hard for this world, and for the innocents who died at the hands of these criminals... For those victims, such a result is much better than waiting eternally for the day of revenge. But it seems someone doesn’t want Malin to leave, as he turned to depart, he saw the doors on both sides of the hall closing. So Malin turned around, to see the son of Doma taking off his coat. "Sir Malin, to you, the only son of Alice Moriarty might just be the dust on the back of your boots, but to me, he was my friend, so I request to engage with you in a champion’s duel." After speaking, Karin ripped open his shirt, revealing the tattoo of the Winter Wolf Knight and his sinewy muscles.