Turs said with a hint of self-mockery:
"I'm actually afraid of dying, and I'm worried that if I hear about more options, I'll change my mind."
"But that won't do. I can't be the only one who gets special treatment. It's already an immense honor to be a friend of the Prophet."
"So please stop talking. I don't want to waver in my decision at the last minute."
Alice remained silent, gazing intently at Turs, observing his soul.
Tulls wasn't lying; his soul was indeed wavering, and he had thoughts of wanting to live, but those chaotic thoughts were all suppressed by a powerful will.
He didn't want to be that exception, and he didn't want all his previous convictions to come to naught.
The prophet did not want to be deified.
Turs was unwilling to live a life of ignominy.
These two are so alike, they're practically identical...
Alice wasn't actually surprised, and could only sigh in the end:
"...Alright, if that's what you're hoping for, then so be it."
Thank you for your understanding.
With difficulty, Turs sat up and bowed his head to the crystal to express his gratitude.
"So, is there anything else you wish to achieve? I can try my best to help you realize it."
"A wish?"
After thinking carefully for a moment, Turs asked uncertainly:
"Could... I go outside and take a look?"
Seeing the pleading look in Turs' dim eyes, Alice fell silent.
After a long while, she spoke again:
"Then let's go out and take a look."
Let's go take a look last.
Go and see what you've accomplished.
Those miracles created by mortals.
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