Zaber gazed at his servants. The firelight danced across his face, deepening the shadows around his eyes.
"Fear is forcing them to obey," he said in an emotionless tone. "Unfortunately, that does not breed loyalty. The moment an opportunity arises, they will betray me."
His voice was cold, but the coldness stemmed not from indifference—it was born of experience.
X pondered this. He weighed the situation in silence as well.
"That is correct. To make them loyal, another approach is needed. Namely, soften toward them. If you do that, they will forget their place."
Zaber sighed. It was neither exhaustion nor regret—it was responsibility.
"That is true. I must find the boundary. It is not easy," he said in a low voice. "They will not always be in my sight. None of them can be trusted."
A note of satisfaction crept into X's voice.
"Do not worry. We will find the way."
Zaber did not reply. He remained silent, staring into the flames as though seeking an answer within them.
