A Wish to Grab Happiness

The purple power sword swings as it cleaves through the thin darkness. In this case, we can't make it. I'll tell you what.

At the expense of his left arm, Rugis, his handshake, reached out to Karia and the human neck muscle he had so named. But sad, that's not one place better than the Lord today, but a few. Prepare yourself for sacrifice, but it's not as simple as winning. That must be one hero again.

If it is to follow the flow, the Lord will no longer lose his left arm, and in so doing, at the same time, suffer defeat. Just as that is the future of planned harmony, the gods should prick their destiny to the Lord.

The treasure sword does not have an ego other than to perform its functions from the beginning. Except when I play the role I'm supposed to play, I'm falling asleep.

But all this time, the treasure sword was aware that emotions close to a small amount of anguish were opening their eyes.

It is naturally no one, the present handshake, against the Lord Rugis himself. What the hell are you doing, my handshake?

This body is not just a sword. The crystal of power that once crossed the hands of many heroes and thus increased their radiance each time. All the heroes of the past let their full power change the look of the world.

And yet.

The LORD only uses himself as if he were a sword. Even if I gave you a little guide from here, the Lord's instinct bounces it hard. Unconsciously, they disperse the clouds.

The Lord's instincts speak. It is by no means your own power. What makes you happy to reach out to the power of borrowing? Such spirituality, which can be described as solidity, makes this one uninterrupted.

That would still be good. It is for the Lord to choose. Whatever you do with this body, it's where the owner wants it. You don't have to interfere. Therefore the sword shall be remembered for the choice, and the frustration shall be remembered, and patience shall be endured. Let's keep our mouths shut. But more than that, there's one thing I can't be outraged about.

That his Lord may be called mediocre. That's how even the Lord has accepted it.

Say what? Is it ordinary? If that's what you call it, then call it after you know all about the Lord. Call the past after you know everything that has come to this place.

I know, I can't even rely on one way of life, like stepping through a skull and saying it was laid for me. I'm sure, to people, that must be a silly way of life. It should never be foolish.

Even so, even so, my Lord is - a hero. Everyone once held his hand, yes. Thus the Lord now is also one of the heroes he has recognized.

Yet the Lord's flesh has not yet taken the path to a hero while diverging from his spirit. As it is now, the Lord again wounds his body and spirit. That's the big, irrevocable wound no longer. I don't know why, but it's unacceptable.

To that step, fu, the sword understood. The choice, which would not have occurred to me, shook its blade as a matter of course.

Why does the Lord not seek to accept His power? That's because this is nothing but a weapon, so to speak, a foreign object to the Lord. That is why the Lord says his power is unacceptable. Because it's all just the power of borrowing. The Lord's distorted spirituality makes it so.

Then it would be good if I were to be the same as the Lord.

It is possible, because this body was once the same as the Lord. Once this body was the very bloodstream that swept in him, the flesh that constituted him, the bone that supported him.

Naturally, this body can be his flesh. That would be the power itself. But that no longer means irreversible assimilation. I will no longer be able to be just a blade. I am the Lord, and the Lord becomes me. Purple electricity, for a moment, rocked its brilliance.

Well, that, too, doesn't matter. Weapons are primarily meant to be used up. It is an infusion into the LORD of the Spirit which he is able to form. Then there will be no problem with this choice either.

Of course, the gods who once brought themselves into this world in ancient times would be as mad as if they were going to have eclampsia.

What, they are great with God, etc., but the beginning of it is not so different from human beings. Instead, now they're chunks of ego. It would be much better to take a human hand than to side with it. It's not my job to look at the scripts of the gods.

- Come on, there's no longer any resistance. Full, let's give. This is the treasure of a hero. And if thy finger be not delivered, this shall be the rest of thy finger.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

A blood splash swayed the sky as if it were of its own free will, taking the dark night as a stage.

There was strange, sensory and strange comfort. This is something I once felt. It's the feeling I got in this duel with that sun-like hero, Helt-Stanley. The feeling that you can do what you shouldn't be able to do and what you can't do is become possible. Behind my eyes, purple electricity is brilliant. The will is as shown.

What the hell is this? My body is trying to paint an orbit of my total ignorance. I'm trying to make a move I don't know about. Funny thing. I don't remember looking around the edge from the edge of my head to see this kind of physical drive. But even stranger. Anyway, I'm familiar with it.

The flash of purple electricity, it runs. The cutting-edge cut off the sky as it willed. Strange, very strange feeling. The flashes, the physical activity, don't seem very much like my release. Unexpectedly, the more my eyes wobble in amazement.

But deep inside his chest, he claims, he knows its orbit and movement. It makes you understand that you are naturally living in this body right now.

Karia's silver sword ripped my flesh. In the blink of an eye, it would break a bone and approach my neck. I'm sure I couldn't fight that. Even at the expense of his left arm, I can now be sure that the blade of Sangbao Sword could not even reach the skin of Karia's neck muscle. That was supposed to be the natural thing to do.

But now, the cure is about to disappear.

Purple electricity rips the darkness at night. Faster, faster than anything. Even faster than Karia's sword leads to this neck muscle. That's what lightning runs like.

The sound, it rang, I heard it. No, I don't know if that's really sound. Did you hear it by ear in the first place, or did you recognize it with a completely different organ? I don't even know that. Yeah, but clearly, the noise, it rang. Put an end to everything, the sound of it.

- What, you can do it if you don't? Rugis.

To my ear, I felt that voice arrive.

The brilliant beauty of purple electricity is poked into the neck of Kalia. If you move even slightly later, blood will erupt from that white neck muscle. Kalia's silver sword tore the flesh off my left arm, but it didn't even lead me to sever the bone.

I don't even know what happened myself. When I started waving my sword, sure, its tip wasn't supposed to reach Kalia. And yet, as if the world's management had been reversed, I now delivered my finger to Kalia's thin neck.

I don't know, I don't know, it's just... I don't even know what this means. It's just that once there was one blade embedded in the back of this gut, it fell out, like, I felt it.

My lips wave naturally, spinning words. The body was beginning to convey to the brain the pain and dots that ran all over the body.

"- Much, I'm tired. We'll have a good meal when we get home, Karia."

"- Big fool. When you ask me out, pick a few more words. The one with the vibe."

Karia's silver eyes shook and she had a crumbling grin on her cheek.

Raise your eyebrows and smile back, as you are, leaving your body with Karia for a little while. My legs are fluttering and you won't listen to me. It's called the time of Gallu Amalia, when you hang out with Kalia, it's like this all the time. Totally, I want you to give me a break.

Yeah, but I don't feel so bad.

As such, the eyelid attempts to respond to a request from the body, but it closes - as soon as it jumps. My eyes were shaking, as if I had cramps. My gaze turns to the sky.

Just, directly in front. At the end of the street, from the direction of the Lordship Hall, there was a rising stream of magic.