A Wish to Grab Happiness

Again, the streets smelled of iron burning. Iron and iron join and rub together, smell.

At the moment when the battle axe and silver sword touch each other, Kalia wrists back aggressively, sliding the battle axe over the blade and streaming it as it lies down. No, and the iron screamed strangely, and the sparks overlapped and scattered.

He said the heavy pressure he was subjected to should have pushed him outside, but still had a paralysis that seemed to creep out of his fingertips. Karia doesn't think, tighten those little lips. Karia didn't know one thing right now about what the emotions that came out boiling in her chest at that time were.

As such, Kalia takes a half-body stance with her wrist back, sucking the battle axe into the ground, waved not to slap herself. As I guide myself, I am forced to create a path of strength.

—— In a moment, the wind sounded like it was going to turn itself around.

Steel princess vestarinu. Sure, a woman's battle axe, which was her name, occasionally chooses through the ground. The stone slabs strewn on the streets peel off and dance hollow as the earth exposes its interior. The pebble, which became a splash that ran freely through the sky, stroked Kalia's cheek with momentum.

I see, it's not a force of juxtaposition on boulders. The two strict names Princess Iron and Steel do not appear to be Dade. With all this strength, it's not strange to be the best brave man in the city. Besides, she has the skill to manipulate the battle axe freely. Enough, you could call it a masterpiece.

But Karia shakes her silver eyes.

But the demon monkey in the air city of Gaza went on top of it. I still remember this arm. I shake that paralysis so hard that it covers that spine. This self tastes so rigid that it is not a problem such as human strength.

Then what is it? To this extent, if any. Once you have overcome the difficulty, you cannot whimper and kneel.

Karia returns her wrist and sticks her cuttoe to Vestalinu, remaining in a position where she recieved the battle axe with a silver long sword lying on her side. No longer did Vestalinu shake off his battle axe and became a prey only to not have the art of protecting himself. Kalia will never give you a respite like waving a battle axe once now.

Because the enemy is a warrior. It's indisputable, a man worth defeating, a man to be respected. It is only then that we should not be given the humiliation of the name of insult. Mimicry as missed here is an act tantamount to stepping on her spirit.

Here, I'll crack that skull open. Let me make you proud and give you some heavenly research. That's courtesy to the warriors. Kalia's silver eyes narrow. As it was, the silver sword tip turned to heaven.

The long sword falls into the skull of Vestalinu, wrapping a cute smell like a truncated platform.

--A splash of blood, mixed with sand smoke, swayed by the wind and swept through the universe.

◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

A slightly dusty room in the Lords' Palace was the room given to Fiarat-La Borgograd. No, I might rather call it house arrest. Sitting on the provided bed, the fialert unwittingly blinks black eyes and leaks a sigh. The quality of the bed itself was not so bad.

A soldier who looks strangely neat stands on a watch named Guard if he shakes his eyes and peeks at the door. Perhaps if Fialert showed any bare gestures going out there, they would immediately call for backup.

Then even if you look at the window, its position does not first reach the fialert, it is present at the top of the room. Using witchcraft would make it possible to reach them, but it is impossible to satisfy the condition that they are not noticed on the lookout.

annoying. To be honest, things were a little unexpected right now if I tried to be fialert. Indeed, I had assumed to the point of skepticism by Mordoe-Gorn, the lord, and it was in my thoughts to be separated from Kalia.

But I never thought I'd be able to keep such a tight eye on myself. I don't know why it is necessary to take such action as I do. How cowardly is Mordor, or just a person who poured skepticism into the bone marrow?

Fialert's black eyes wobbled slightly louder. But the choice to just stay here and wait for help is unlikely. You can say it's out of the question.

Sooner or later, Rugis will be here. You look like you deserved it, and you're supposed to sneak in. No, after a moment, he might come in dignified through the front entrance. In any way, if he gets cornered all over the city, there's no doubt he'll get here any time soon.

Fialert was beginning to understand that Rugis had a unique thought circuit. The more he falls into a predicament, the more momentum the thought increases as if it were a flaming gear.

If I tell you, the more extreme it seems from the surroundings, the more thoughts lean. Oh, yeah, that's like a balance. Until the end of the day, no matter what they put on the plates of both hands, they maintain equilibrium. Whether it's pain that leaks resentment or flames that rot your guts.

But at the end. Neither does Fialert clearly understand what that cut-off is. But when something of it comes, Rugis' balance breaks the equilibrium greatly, shaking off the thread of support.

That started with what happened in that underground temple, and that's how the nature of Rugis remains the same until now.

But if you're asked if that's a good one, the fialert also bothers you with judgment and you have to frown. It is certain that we have been saved by the nature of Rugis. But the amplitude of that too extreme thought. That's the same thought circuit as throwing yourself to the bottom of the earth if you make one mistake. Yes, that's all I look at, it's like Rugis is.

No, and the fialert distorts the eyebrows and aggressively dispels the idea. It is an idea that has reached the end of the thought many times before and has been re-buried at the bottom of the skull each time. In that way, it must be a pointless and extreme idea in itself to come to mind.

Silly. Thoughts are the supreme silk thread of academia, but it doesn't make sense to get yourself tangled up. Successful spinning is what matters.

If the nature of that Rugis is to work again this time. Without a doubt, we will be aiming for this Lordship Hall in the end. Because his purpose is to bring Belfein down. If it is, he must come here. Fialert loosens his eyes as he breaks his cheek. Black hair swayed the universe softly.

Then I still have to be prepared for it myself. I don't have time to stop here. Fialert stood up his body sitting on the bed, blinking his eyelashes. So I twirled my thin fingers and turned.

Yes, now, I'm sure you can. Once, the magic that Rugis wanted. How discouraged he was when he found out he couldn't use it. How much I have cursed my pity in that way.

Ever since then, I've even been doing shredding research. If he finds out it's ready to use, he must be happy to show his teeth. Just imagine, my eyebrows rise. Oh, what time it was, he told me, miracle-like magic.

—— Thought-induced sorcery. Such sorcery, which snatches people's consciousness away with the scent of graceful flowers.

From the tip of the finger, where the fialert turned slightly, the scent of the fragrant flower began to drift.