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Inside the Round Table entourage's car…
"Sir, that wasn't like you back there," said one of the subordinates.
What he said could constitute insolence. No, forget "could." It was undoubtedly an act of insolence.
However, the Master didn't lose his cool. That was because he was an incomparably gracious and generous man.
He certainly thought his subordinate's criticism wasn't without merit.
"Sir… Fighting that man will not change anything. It's a fight where we stand to lose so much but have nothing to gain."
The Master glanced at the subordinate. "Do you think I'll lose?"
"Sir, it won't matter whether you win against that man or not."
"...Indeed," the Master slowly nodded. "I have nothing to worry about the future of the Round Table, then."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"So many people in the Round Table are capable of making better decisions than I am. In that case, why should I be worried about our future?"
The atmosphere in the car became heavier. Gloomier, even. On the surface, at least, it seemed like the Master agreed with the subordinate that he made a bad choice. However, what he actually did was point out how the subordinate had overstepped his boundaries.
The Master sighed inaudibly.
'How petty…'
Being a member of the Master's entourage didn't mean one lost their right to speak. Wasn't one of the Round Table's core values that everyone had the equal right to speak their minds?
Since it was physically impossible for everyone to attend meetings, representatives...
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