A Wish to Grab Happiness

The mercenary city of Belfein.

It is a large city located near Galuamaria and excels in the special forces within the group of surrounding urban states. The whole city was filled with mercenaries, adventurers, and their breakdowns, and they lived a life of unknowing tomorrow with daily enjoyment.

Why does Belfein have so many mercenaries and adventurers as two names in the city? That is also for a reason in Belfein's policy, but above all its location conditions.

Gallu Amalia is a wonderfully prosperous trading city, naturally with massive influxes of merchants and goods. If the goods poured in, people gathered, and if people gathered, sooner or later, the result was to gather the burglars and thieves.

The merchant therefore asks for force. Fight as a defense against taking away your property. The means to succumb to the blade threat and not lead your life to bankruptcy.

Of course, there are mercenaries and adventurers in Galuamaria. However, it is not very possible to reach out to all merchants visiting Galua Maria.

The Gallu Amalia is covered in a hard shell called the Wall because of its massive development. There are also limits to the population that can hold it, and it is very unlikely to keep up with the expanding economy.

So it was the mercenary city of Berfein that became the receptacle for the grid held by the merchant and Gallu Amalia. Berfein widely accepted mercenaries and became their backshield in the grass of roots.

Instead of paying a portion of the proceeds, the mercenaries gain a base. Thus, just as adventurers gain the back shield of nobility, in Belfein the city state itself became the shield of mercenaries.

Demand is excessive enough to produce rotten odors. Anyway, the trading city is just around the corner. Every merchant who wanted an escort gave himself to Belfein.

To a large extent, after such a process, the mercenary city of Berfein has established its status.

Now this is how you go down the boulevard in front of you, with merchants many of whom rush fast with all the loss and all the mercenaries with the loose ends that made your eyes look bad. It doesn't seem inconvenient for me to leave.

Deposit the horse once and step on the sand of the street. What a nostalgic smell. A strange smell of alcohol and a mixture of sand and blood. The burning odor behaved from the stalls where the meat was baked was also included.

I don't feel bad. There's no one around here, just me. Weird, I was feeling the lightness of my shoulders.

It's selfish, but if you have too many people around you, on the contrary, sometimes you want to be alone. Think of it, was there such a time in the former Savior Hall, Hert Stanley? He was equal to always accompanying someone on that journey. Absolutely, I have a lot of spirit.

Anyway, from here on out, it's all up to me to use any tavern, to use any human being, to use whatever means. It's not easy at all. There was no longer a need to ask the Virgin about the complexion of the Virgin, Kalia or Fialert.

Slip through a street that packs people fully while completely lightening their footsteps.

No matter how many people are in it, it's not that hard to walk down the path you found out about. Once upon a time, even one of the wallets was disrespected by nostalgia, but it was somehow befitting to do so now. If you do that, you seem to go back to who you once were, and your hands shrink.

As it was for me, he scattered the sand of the street for a long time, slowly slipping into the trail to disappear.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

"Hmm... a mercenary with that name must be our tavern"

My father in the tavern says calmly as he strokes his white-haired mustache. Is the eye strangely sleepy because it is still around noon?

Even so, that's odd. Sure enough, this must have been the tavern he went to.

"Remind me again. You must be here. He was a favorite of poor quality rum."

My father moved his lips loose again with a wrinkle between his eyebrows, I don't know. I can't see a decent answer at all to every one of those things. Unexpectedly, I leak a sigh.

Apparently, this father is no different. It's not like time has passed, so it's natural.

"Fine. It's a little early, but can God blame me for drinking alone? Ale and some good cheese. That's good."

Every time he smiles cheerfully, his father starts pouring ale into the pottery. The wrinkles engraved on his face were distinctive.

But the expression also shades somewhere again.

"But... I still don't know, such a mercenary. I've never even heard of a mercenary."

Other taverns. So, yeah, now it's not a mockingjay tone, clearly, that's what my dad said. That wasn't the kind of wind that was deluding me, I tried to seriously remember, I still don't see it anywhere in my head, it looked like that.

End of story, that's crazy. Check the atmosphere in the store and the view from the window once more. Casino lights visible through windows on piles of barrels piled high without being sorted out. It doesn't make any difference what it looks like in my memory.

Sure, I think it was this tavern where he was. Soaking his tongue in ale, he frowns.

Because the mercenary city of Bellefein here was once the land I used to be based on.

Anyway, I have so much work to do here. The economy was good enough for me to finally eat as an adventurer while dredging a ditch.

But, still, it could never be all good memories. Rather, terrible memories are stronger. I didn't know my lips were crooked.

That's how the man who stayed here, temporarily but hand-in-hand, was supposed to be here. Tighten your eyes as you stroke your jaw.

Has the time slipped slightly? I don't even remember what time or day I met the boulder. It is also possible that other taverns are based at the moment.

I have no choice. It's a smudge.

Forced to slide into his throat with ale as he presses the feel of hardened cheese against his teeth. Bitterness and indescribable egumi are rather comfortable now.

I had no idea that I would ever drink again in this land. Never again, you said you weren't willing to step on this land. Oddly enough, I feel fluffy.

I don't know if I can say that's exalted, or if I'm restless and just floating.

"- Dad, do something about the liquor takari I have in front of the store every day. Oh, it's a loss of reputation in the store."

It was about the time I put Yale's second glass on my lips. A mercenary who came inside the store opened his mouth and said happily behind his back.

I know exactly what those words mean. Next word, it's up to you.

"I did it today. From now on..."

It's something the extra rough Rokudenashi does a lot.

Kick takari and begging and step on to clear your depression without meaning. I can't afford anything. He wants to think that doing so has made him great.

But it's not a reprehensible act. Besides, I'm not in a position to ask what the product is. It would rather be classified as the Gorotsky side.

So without worrying, I pour ale down my throat. Oddly enough, the heat burned the esophagus.

So, uh, take a seat. In my head, something like a shard of memory passed by. There was a bright feeling in the back of my brain.

- Takari of liquor.

No, wait. I don't think so. But I had a strange feeling. It's like it's right, making you snort deep inside your chest, I have a feeling.

Leave the silver coins on the table and go straight out the back door.

When you have troubles, no one uses the street on a boulder for the stage. Because in case you do, you can't keep quiet with the official constitution.

Therefore, fights and armpits are shaken by backstreets at all times and the market is set. The smell of raw waste and the muddy, poking my nose. He turned his gaze toward the back of the road, trying to avoid the kind of filth that had been scattered.

There it is, one, the shadow. I guess I was beaten to pieces. Leaning against the wall, the hands and feet are spread out to hang out.

The line of the body is not so thick, but rather thin. In the wind wearing a wide hat by its sides, while creating an item blue bruise, its cheeks are floating with suspended lips. It had the same characteristics as my, well-known guy.

No way, I slowly open my lips thinking. At that time, there was a grin on my cheek I didn't know.

Deep in the chest. There was some strange certainty in the emotional swings.

"- Bruder, what are you doing? Needle shot blueder. You look like you're dying."

With his shoulders clapped, he shrugged, slapping lightly at the pals of old knowledge. Even so, this one doesn't know this one as well as the other.

He sounded a familiar voice, no different from what he used to be.

"Good word, have you called my name? But unfortunately, needle shooting is out of business. You can call me a drunk blooder anyway. Then my father in the stubborn tavern will share the liquor with me!

It is indisputable that some pleasant voice will be heard. a mercenary I know well, a former work companion of mine, and as such,

"That's fine, if you drink alcohol, you should drink it fully. But I need you to go back to mercenary operations again."

That's how my friend, Bruder, once let me die.