But he still tried to make one last struggle, lowering his voice and pleadingly signaling to Count Nulman: "Sir, on that ship there's..."
"Alright," Nulman gently shook his head at him: "Mr. Lammonlay, do you really think they can fly far using the airship in this weather? In this weather, what are the chances of an airship crashing? Unless protected by a deity, the chance is a solid hundred percent. I know what's on that ship, but it doesn't matter."
"But what if?"
Nulman's eyes flickered for a moment, clearly considering something. But after pondering for a while, he replied: "Okay, I trust you one last time. I can give you some time, but only before the other party loses patience."
The middle-aged Arcanist's mouth moved for a while before letting out a sigh and giving up his insistence. He knew this was the last concession from the other side, since it was their daughter in these people's hands, not his. If he continued to be stubborn, the other side might not be so polite.
