After listening to Chief Braham recount the legendary friendship between Noland and the great warrior Kalgara, a bond that transcended race four hundred years ago, Riberra Sami and his officers were still immersed in the emotions stirred by that story.
After a moment, Riberra Sami slowly raised his head.
"Chief Braham, thank you for sharing such a deeply moving story. It has given us a much clearer understanding of Shandora—and of your people's perseverance."
"To be honest, on our way here through the White Sea, we passed through the Kingdom of God's Angel Island. We… saw and heard some things."
"About the ongoing conflict between your people and the Sky Islanders."
Braham's gaze sharpened slightly, but he did not interrupt.
Riberra Sami continued calmly.
"I mean no offense. But as an outsider… I see that for centuries you've been forced to leave Shandora, struggling to survive on island clouds."
"And despite unimaginable sacrifices, you still haven't reclaimed your land."
He paused slightly.
"So I want to ask… hypothetically."
"If there were people among the Sky Islanders—like Noland back then—who realized the pain of this endless cycle of hatred… and wished to find a different path…"
"If they were willing to seek peace, just as Noland once sought friendship…"
"Would the Shandians be willing to give such an attempt a chance, just as Kalgara once did?"
The question fell like a stone into still water.
Before the echoes faded, the atmosphere inside the tent changed abruptly.
The trace of nostalgia on Chief Braham's face vanished—replaced by anger.
The veins on the back of his hand tightened as he gripped his staff.
"Peaceful coexistence?!"
His voice rose sharply.
"Shandora is our homeland! It is the sacred land where the souls of our ancestors rest! It belongs to the Shandians—and to the Shandians alone!"
He slammed his staff against the cloud floor with a dull thud.
"Look at where we stand now!"
"We should not be living on these floating clouds!"
"It was the Sky Islanders who drove us out with weapons! They seized our land, claimed it as their own, called it a 'holy land,' and forbade us from returning!"
"For over three hundred years, generation after generation of our warriors have died trying to reclaim it!"
"Every Shandian child grows up crying over lost family—and learning to hate those who stole our home!"
His burning gaze swept across Riberra Sami and the others.
"You ask if we have considered coexistence?"
"I'll tell you—never!"
"That would be disgrace! A betrayal of all those who sacrificed their lives!"
"We would rather die in battle than share anything with those who stole our homeland!"
"That land must—and will—return to us in its entirety!"
"After three hundred years of bloodshed, there is only one possible end—only one side will remain standing on that land!"
Riberra Sami listened quietly and nodded.
This reaction… was exactly what he expected.
The older generation—especially a chief carrying centuries of collective suffering—would inevitably be unyielding.
Hatred had long been etched into their blood and beliefs.
Reason no longer held dominance.
And honestly…
That was understandable.
Anyone burdened with three hundred years of displacement and slaughter would find it nearly impossible to calmly discuss peace or sharing.
This path, at least with the older generation—
was clearly a dead end.
Then…
the only option left was to look toward the next generation.
Riberra Sami lowered his head slightly, showing sincere apology.
"Chief… you're right."
"I was too idealistic. I failed to fully understand the depth of your pain and anger."
"Please forgive the shallow thoughts of an outsider."
"It seems I oversimplified the situation."
Hearing this, the anger in Braham's eyes softened slightly.
He sighed deeply.
"You are guests who followed Noland's footsteps. I will not blame you."
"But do not speak of such things again."
"For us Shandians, there is only one goal—"
"To reclaim Shandora, and let its light shine again upon our homeland."
"I understand," Riberra Sami nodded. "I spoke out of turn."
He smoothly shifted the topic, glancing toward the silhouettes of warriors outside the tent.
"By the way, Chief Braham… seeing how your people maintain such strong fighting spirit under these conditions is truly admirable."
"How have you managed to hold out against the Kingdom of God for so many centuries with limited resources?"
"Hold out? Heh…"
Braham gave a bitter smile and tapped the ground with his staff.
"It's not really holding out."
"Our warriors are stronger individually, and we're more familiar with forest combat—that's our advantage."
"But the Kingdom of God… they have numbers, better equipment, and especially the power of various Dials."
"We can only rely on guerrilla tactics."
"We strike their patrols, harass their outer positions… slowly wearing them down."
"Like fish in the cloud sea biting at prey much larger than themselves."
"Guerrilla warfare… fighting the strong with the weak."
"That requires excellent tactics and strong will."
"I imagine your tribe must have outstanding leaders and warriors."
"The young people outside—they seem like your backbone."
At the mention of warriors, a glimmer of pride appeared in Braham's eyes.
"Yes."
"The Shandians never lack courage or strength."
"Even against those strange shells, our young people are learning… adapting…"
He paused briefly, then continued:
"They've even begun capturing and using them."
"They're not skilled yet—but it's a change."
Hearing this, Riberra Sami began sharing some of his understanding of Dial mechanics and tactical applications.
Some of his ideas—shaped by his outsider perspective—were entirely new to them.
"These ideas… are unique," Braham admitted. "We've never considered them this way."
As Riberra Sami continued, Braham suddenly raised his hand, looking both eager and slightly frustrated.
"Wait… slow down! I can't remember all of this!"
"Someone! Call all the squad leaders—quickly!"
Soon, seven sharp-looking young warriors entered the tent.
They first cast wary glances at Riberra Sami's group, then sat down at the chief's signal.
Riberra Sami's eyes flickered slightly.
This was the moment he'd been waiting for.
He reorganized his thoughts and began explaining more systematically, occasionally asking questions—probing their views on the Sky Islanders and the conflict.
However…
Whether discussing improved tactics or future battles—
their answers were the same.
Fiercer determination to reclaim Upper Yard.
Stronger hostility toward the Sky forces.
Deeper hatred rooted in blood and history.
Not a single one showed even the slightest inclination toward negotiation or coexistence.
To them, anything less than total reclamation was betrayal.
Strange…
Riberra Sami frowned inwardly.
From what he remembered, there should have been voices for peace among the Shandians.
The future chief—if he recalled correctly—should be among these young warriors.
Had something happened later to change his beliefs?
But that didn't matter now.
Riberra Sami had already achieved everything he reasonably could on this trip.
Seeing that the moment had passed, he stopped pushing the dangerous topic further.
In the end, under the escort of Chief Braham and the others, Riberra Sami led his crew out of Cloud Hidden Village, carrying a few gifts, and retraced their path back through the clouds.
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