Cliff felt a chill bite at the back of his neck. Experience. The word echoed like a curse.
"And you want… to perfect this experiment?"
The Cursed Serpent fixed him with a remorseless gaze and replied in a light tone:
"I wouldn't put it that way, but yes, I do intend to mix our species to continue our lineage. But unlike the others, I am a pacifist… Violence has never been my style."
Cliff pondered for a moment, then responded a bit hastily, as if something had just clicked in his mind:
"That's why you spread your soldiers across all the front lines instead of simply creating another line of defense… That's clever. It means that even if I refuse, you've already played on the fact that they've befriended my people, normalizing their presence."
The Cursed Serpent's lips curled into a narrow, almost satisfied smile.
"You're beginning to understand. My warriors are not tools of war, Cliff. They are bridges. Seeds planted in your territory, among your people. Time does the rest."
