A Wish to Grab Happiness

"The ideal is to form a coalition, attack as lightning strikes through a large army, and let Gallu Amalia fall."

Garrist kingdom round table floor. From its last seat, the voice of the Cathedral Knight Garras Gargantia echoed. There is a slight attitude in this room. But when you get your gaze all around you, your attitude doesn't break.

At such a time as to gavel at the word, a garrison person asks what it means. Besides, try to say in the dark that there's no point in doing that.

Cathedral, and Garrist, a moment of silence flowed, as mutual thoughts staggered.

This roundtable floor is essentially used only if a rendezvous meeting between the Kingdom of Garrist and the Cathedral is held.

If the cathedral traces its grand yuan, it is the direct organization of Garrist King Amerites Garrist. It must be said, however, that moving the cathedral, which is no longer independent as a half-block organization, with one fingertip, even though it is King Garrist, has become impossible with the course of time.

By virtue of its influence, the Cathedral has made the northwest of the continent recognized by the neighbouring countries as a dominant region, pardoned with privileges up to its internal laws, security mechanisms and tax structures, acting as one of the half-independent countries.

It must also all be because the religion of the Cathedral does not fit just in the garrison, it spreads to the countries around it and has a lot of support. The creed religion that people used to tip over was banished, enough to depress its status by the time it was called the Old Church.

"It's a simple thing like meaning. them, the forces of the Old Church are now like a swinging little fire"

Garrus makes her lips leap, as she doesn't know about the tension around her. Like saying that we don't push each other's restraints.

The cathedral has a force almost like an independent nation, that's for sure. But the Garrist kingdom hasn't lost all its influence either. Regularly, and in the event of an emergency like this one, send out an equal number of representatives to each other and hold meetings at the round table. That has been one convention for a long time. Whether or not it plays a role is a completely different story.

The emergency I can give you this time is the fall of Galuamaria at the hands of the crest religion, in addition to the alliance between the aerial garden Gaza and the crest religion. It must be a response to that.

Therefore, today, it is not only those of the two forces that surround the round table: the Garrist, the Cathedral. Many forces, such as those belonging to Galuamaria and its surrounding urban state, were trying to wield their tongues in order to retain their rights and standing. That's turning this meeting into a vortex of chaos, again unnecessarily.

In it, Garras' words swoop through the floor, every bit.

"To beat them with some force now is just to make the fire bigger. You'll need a fierce wind to get rid of that one. There's a big wind building a big force."

Yes, there are few things that stand out and agree with Gallus's words that he tells as he opens his eyes. Whatever's on its chest, this place is where every force now spills its thoughts, a place of restraint and power.

Speaking words lightly is directly linked to your own neck flying when you do poorly.

Therefore, only one person spoke up in favour of Gallus's words.

"... the Knight's Hall of the Basilica of Gallus would be right. Although Galuamaria has fallen, its great walls are not yet insulting. Beating down the army without any resistance is what stops the roots of the Old Church."

The Lord of that voice is Buckingham Stanley.

It is out of the house of the famous Gallu Amalia, whose legends and diplomatic skills still allow him to retain his status. Especially for those who want to acquire Gallu Amalia's rights in its hands, his words are not easily ignorable. Ultimately, it is possible to strip the trading city of Gallu Amalia of its rights as his backing.

But this is not just a war, it no longer carries the colour of a religious war. Therefore, it seems that things are not so simple. An old man opens his eyes and leaks his voice.

"... while overstepping, the opponent is old-fashioned. If you bring up extra large armies, it can also lead to rocking the authority of the cathedral. This should only be handled as a small matter"

Little thing. Garrus seemed to make me laugh so much when I accidentally said it was stupid.

I understand. I'm not thinking that from the bottom of my heart with an old man who made a statement. But there is a preconstruction in everything, in the forces to which he belongs, that's how the views are expressed.

Still, there is a lot of swallowing to do about this. Garrus wrapped his fingertips around a tabletop glass and had the wine included in his throat. I see, something much better was behaved.

Gallu Amalia, who has not put the letters of the fall on top of history for hundreds of years to date. That's what's been dropped by the forces of their old religion now. All that or even the elves that this one should have incorporated into the force have formed an alliance with them.

This is indisputable, important. If possible, we would like to send in a coalition of cities around Galuamaria, or a large army of garrisons and cathedrals chewing on them.

Otherwise, a little interference is just going to make the spark called old religion bigger. With regard to the matter, Garrus has convinced himself to dwell in his chest.

The reason is the presence of that knight, no, now a female swordsman, Karia Birdnick.

That's definitely a masterpiece. If the times pushed its back, it naturally could have become a hero. For some reason now, he has abandoned himself as a knight and waved that sword under the forces of the Old Church. Garrus sat back in his chair, deep as he drove the noise of the meeting out of his ear.

I mean, there's something. To that force. There's so much that she gives, so much that the masterpiece wants to give itself away.

What is it? It seems very unlikely that there are treasures or anything that the cavaliers can wear. So is it honor? No way, at the time of the name tag Old Church, such things must be thrown out. Is it something that will satisfy your ambitions? This may be somewhat.

But what Garras has identified is different. Gallus had made one prediction.

There are more heroes out there than they can attract. Is it a woman called a witch, or a traitor and a man so called? I don't know which one. But I'm very interested.

"So what do you say? I have one idea. There is a proposal to hold down the antlers of deer and rip off only their skins."

Little fat man, blunt voice. I don't really remember Garras, but surely, would he have been the representative of the peripheral city state?

The appearance seems dull, but its eyes have never lost color. Rather, it makes my ambitions glorious. The thick lips opened gently.

"They're old-fashioned and not iron set in one piece. All they're haunting is following the authority of two human beings. Other than that, it's just an elephant gathering."

Garras had a general understanding of what a man would then say. So while half of it intrigues me, what a vague emotion to expose when it's still not funny about it. The look was distorted.

"Even after this, the Old Church should aim to expand its forces. They can no longer just stabilize on the spot, etc. If so, let our city state consider its neck with a false reckoning. If the snake is snatched around its neck, it can't handle the torso."

I see, and Garrus stroked his jaw. I roughly grabbed the man's intentions. That seems to be the same for those who attended the meeting.

"I want permission from the cathedral. Permission to send an official written statement of friendship to the Old Church. If you'll excuse me - Matia, the rebellious witch of the cathedral, and Rugis the Great Sinner's neck, are like the one on top."

A much better voice shook the air on the roundtable floor. Until the end, Garrus was shaking that shoulder in such a grumpy way.