Not at all bothered by the declaration, Morgan just grinned across the aisle at her. "So long as I get results if you're depending on me in a fight, the means don't really matter, right?"

That was a terrible lie, from Morgan's perspective. The belief in magick, in possibility, was no less than a fight for humanity's very soul. Whether it was ground into the dirt by the elimination of possibility and all the hope and potential it held was ground out of it... But the side that wanted to achieve that was winning the war. The automatic disbelief on Aloy's part, never mind their circumstances, was just one more facet in that Technocratic thought policing.

But swordpoint conversions solved nothing, whether the sword was metaphorical or literal. One woman's disbelief was a drop in the ocean.

"You are a fighter, right? Aside from moving like one..." He motioned to her spear.