"That old fool has lost his mind!"
Having parted with Arelen, Noctis and Shadow had returned to the inn. Noctis had not given the Altar Sage an answer, and the older Transcendent had not insisted on receiving one either — he simply implored the two of them to consider his request.
Judging by how angry Noctis was, though, it did not seem like he was inclined to see Arelen's offer in good light.
"Fighting over land? With Lady Irian, of all people?! What was he thinking, ordering his warriors to slaughter her people?!"
Noctis looked at Shadow, his eyes glinting fiercely.
"And what, the bastard has the gall to blame me for his misdeeds? Asking me to help him kill the Blade of Dawn? Bah! The Altar Sage was supposed to be an icon of wisdom and temperance. Where the hell were his wisdom and temperance when he provoked this war?!"
The young man cursed quietly, then uttered with a dark expression:
