A Wish to Grab Happiness

Blooder's voice drifts through a luxury tavern. It naturally enters into the ears of what it hears and makes it spit unexpectedly. Such was the voice that contained the atmosphere.

Employer Rugis, Steel Princess Vestalinu, mercenaries around. I was listening to one voice so that no one would even pinch an objection.

"... I can't believe there's a battlefield beside me where I risked my life. In a situation, it seems to deepen quickly when men and women get along. That said, her mother was only a village daughter, not a mercenary."

Bruder squeaks like that and makes his lips jump.

The woman my father loved soon gave birth to herself and became my mother. I see. By then, it must have been a smooth sail. Even if it was a way of life while crushing and crushing others' lives: mercenaries. We have loved ones, we have families, and we have friends.

My father, who trusts in love and seeks salvation, would have had no more ideals. Honestly from the bottom of my heart, I think so. In fact, when I was a child, I was happy. Everyone gave me love, wished me happiness, and that's what I believed in in this world.

Oh, I'm so happy, it was life.

So I should have ended up there. If that was the happiest thing in just a few years of your life, people are enough. Rather sloppy the raw of pain, it seems more stupid to survive redundancy, wouldn't it? Because happiness can fall out of your hand at any time.

Naturally, the time has come for ruin.

The village daughter my father loved, nothing my father could have loved alone. He was a beautiful, gentle man. I hear he was admired and loved by many humans. And so was my father's best friend.

Mordoe-Gorn, who was a mercenary, was bought his credit by the nobles and entrusted with the village police commissioner. Wonderful, my father heartily rejoiced at the birth of his best friend.

And a few years after that joy - my father became a sinner and was cast into a cold prison.

The charges include theft and murder in the village. Well, if you're a mercenary, there's no reason to be guilty. Everyone thinks so. Naturally, I understood that.

The only difference was my mother. And it would be about me if I added it sophisticated. My younger sister didn't really understand what sin was. I just knew that for some reason my father was gone.

Unless you are on the battlefield as a mercenary, but elsewhere, you are not a sinner. I continued to plead that innocence until the end, but there was no way that such a thing could be heard, and sooner or later the day of my father's execution came.

My father, whom I hadn't seen in a long time, was terribly grumpy. And with a quiet face, he stared at his best friend, with a sword to slash his father's neck.

On the day of the execution, we were in the front row. No, that must have been compulsory. The family of the sinner shall bear the end of the sinner upon him. In the front row, listening to my father whimper, listening to the screaming voice, I am made to realize the sins of my family. That was one of the codes in the village.

My father didn't die easily.

The execution sword is causing the sinner to rust because it inflicts untimely suffering. Such a sword can't be so easy to kill people. Instead, he eats into the flesh many times, slaps his nerves, exposes his neck bone and connects his life.

Mordeau waves his sword off his father's neck over and over again. If you lose consciousness, interrupt the ritual each time until you hang water and regain consciousness. Until the end, I continued to inflict pain on my father. The look on Mordeau's face was covered in a helmet and could not be seen.

That, terminal. Finally, when that life was about to die - my father said. I said, leaking a whimper, weeping, zeroing my blood saliva.

- I'm sorry, hey. Vesterine, please.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Where Bruder had spoken, Vestalinu's fingers rang. It's weird that I've been holding it down.

Vestalinu speaks and makes his beloved father, Mordoe-Gorn, hear as if he were a bad man. There is nothing strange about the abomination that dwells in those eyes.

The mercenaries around them set up the murder weapon with a dull light, as if they had taken their will away. Someone's throat rang unknowingly. Rugis didn't say anything. I was just trying to keep my hips afloat for a little while, staring at the Vestalinu trend.

"... how far should I go with that fabrication?

There was a trembling voice somewhere in Vestalinu. A voice containing the colours that reject the story of Bruder itself. But if I tried to bluder something like that, it wouldn't have mattered. No longer is this meant to make Vestalinu speak and listen.

Spit out the mud that accumulated in his chest, even that which was a chain of curses. That was just it.

The voice of Bruder echoes again just because it doesn't stop any connection, such as the voice of Vestalinu.

"There was no place in the village for us to live anymore. No one told me, but I lived outside the village, hiding in the woods. And so the day came, almost to the point of remembering."

Vestalinu's eyebrows, blinking. I wonder if I can listen to this voice so I can get lost. It was all just a prank falsehood, a voice that said no, but still told me to kill Bruder, didn't come out of Vestalinu's throat. Even during that tour, Bruder is pronouncing a line of words from his lips.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Life in the woods was poor and miserable, but still quiet. And if I didn't make that life worse, by the time I started thinking about it a little bit, it came. Like it used to be, suddenly.

We made sure to scratch the woods that day, and Mordoe-Gorn visited our residence. In order to deepen the old relationship, of course, he brought a team of police officers to charge his mother.

I couldn't believe it. That doesn't mean my mother may have sinned. I don't know why Mordeau would give such an impossible sin to my mother, and I couldn't believe it.

At least, a man named Mordeau should have been my father's best friend, and my mother and I were good friends. Mordeaux was single, but he often invited her home to surround the table, even to himself, like a sweet uncle.

When I punished my father, I resented him. I also grieved. But as time went on, maybe it was true to its duties, but it was late, so it seemed. To the extent that I thought so, I believed myself and my mother that a mordor was not evil.

But here and now, my mother is about to be clothed with an improbable sin. The charges are fraud and fornication. Mordeaux said that in cold language, he had had trouble living everyday and had tricked good people into taking money, sometimes selling himself to earn money.

Impossible.

My mother has never even approached the village alone since she moved into the woods. Rather, the people of the village were afraid by the time they were hypersensitive, and when they went to the village to get a few essentials, they were bound to accompany them. The villagers will hardly even speak to them.

Impossible. Such a sin is unlikely. Why would you do that?

I came here to understand how foolish my head is. I understood well that it was a poor sheep's thought that made me believe everything.

- I was fooled. Not just my mother, my father, myself. Everyone was fooled by this man.

The sin of my father was also created by this man. I can be sure of that. Moments later, I found myself in a mood that made my guts gush in my stomach.

Take it, I'm going to.

Regardless of the name of the usurper Mordow-Gone, this man is willing to take his father's life, his mother's body. I could see my spine popping up and my cold icy tongue licking all over my body. My father was deceived and fell, okay. Then why is that?

I didn't want to know. I didn't even want to imagine. Yeah, but my brain wants to understand.

My father and I were so close, Mordor. And yet. Mordor had an unimaginable resentment in his chest or an emotion close to it. Years, if you suck at it, it's been a long time.

Mordor opens his mouth.

"- Spend that life in prison, repent of your sins, but good. I'll take care of the rest of the girls."

At that moment, understand.

My father wasn't the only one who had what could be described as that resentment. My mother is also the subject. That's how I'm trying to take not only my life from those two, but everything.

That must be the thought of this man, hidden by the usurper Mordow-Gone.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

For Vestalinu, that was the limit point.

"... stop. Fine. Keep your mouth shut!

Loud, the sound of being slapped on the table rang. The surroundings are filled with the sound alone and wrapped in silence after a moment of aftertaste. Everyone doesn't utter a word. Everyone is watched over by the trends in Vestalinu.

There's just one person who doesn't care what she does.

"Princess Iron and Steel, do you remember my childhood?"

Blooder's voice is told with a low, crawling through the earth. A harsh voice responds. Naturally, it belonged to Vestalinu.

"Yeah, of course. Until Father Mordeaux goes to war as a mercenary, just as you prove that what you say is nothing more than bullshit."

Yes, all this human talk is a makeover. Yes, it must be. Because I remember. I grew up watching my father Mordor go to war, his brave back. Have a big sword and look like you're going to the battlefield. Speaking of my mother's memories, the mud was as warm as it sounded. I remember my father very well.

Hearing that word of Vestalinu, somewhere, the voice of a blueder sounds like it's lightened.

"- Hey, Princess Iron and Steel. Let's not lie."

Well, Vestalinu understood that he had heat, as if his head evaporated the moisture.

More so, the mercenary denied his glorious memory and insisted that the words were false. That's good. I don't mind anymore. If you kill me here, those depressing words can disappear -.

"You're kidding. At such a tempting age, Mordow-Gorn is the police commissioner or the position above him. You're supposed to be in battle as a mercenary."

- Kill this disrespectful man.

The voice that came out slipped from her throat to her chest. I can tell that my heart is palpitating so painfully that I'm experiencing pain as if something had been punched in.

I wonder what the humans are saying. I wonder what you're talking about.

No, it should be. There is no way. 'Cause I do watch. Yeah, I'm sure it's my bad memory. I'm sure that back is the same as my father, who goes around as chief of police.

Such, unstoppable thoughts swirl. What is true, what is false? There was a kind of void in my brain that I couldn't figure out.

"... ask again, Princess Iron and Steel"

That's where the voice of Bruder sounds. Like talking directly to the brain, filling in the blanks.

"Do you really remember when you were a kid?"

Vestallinu felt a needle in his heart, no, a pile bigger and sharper than that, punched in.