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-- Valdemar Karafa, a nobleman from Lisliar, -- Valdemar began, but stopped when he heard the chime of common sense in his head. "Be careful! Remember what happened last time?" Exactly. Watch your words, Valdemar. -- I haven't been in this country for long, and I can't fully judge it. The capital is the facade of the state, but the building stands on a foundation and is held together by a frame. What do the feudal lords live on? Are the fields fertile, and are the peasants diligent in their work? Does man conquer the land, or is he conquered by it? No, it's too early for me to judge the country. As for Clematis... it's impressive. It seems that nothing that the mind can imagine cannot be found here. The Arterian paradigm, of course, has also crept in here with its clawed paw, to my great displeasure and to the detriment of the country. And -- bureaucracy, the scourge of all humanism, is clearly beyond all reason. Otherwise, there is room for everyone to live here, except for the talentless serfs, but that is their place -- at the bottom of existence. I approve of expansion. The opportunity is the right -- isn't it? I think I've said everything.
— So that's how it is, very interesting, — as soon as Valdemar finished sharing his impressions and opinions, the journalist's eyes became like those of a dead fish: it was clear that she had lost interest in him, — thank you very much and have a nice day, — she said to him just as unemotionally before disappearing into the crowd.