A Wish to Grab Happiness

At the end of his gaze, Fialert-la-Borgograd's lips swayed loosely. The words that can be uttered are soft, and I think I might even feel elegant somewhere. Light green light rushes over its skin.

"I'm just sucking up the magic accumulated in the accumulation. It's just that. There's nothing to fear."

As her shoulders shake, her lustrous dark hair melts into the dark. The expression had an emotion that could be called joy or trance. The atmosphere is not the same as when we met in the reception room. Maybe it's really the same person, so much so that you're going to wonder for a moment.

Arueno's golden eyes open. As my lips probed for something, I swayed. Oh, my God, I'm lost for a moment to know what to say.

"Mr. Fialert, what the hell are you... what, no, why are you doing this?

Ask, slightly absurd to breathe, but nevertheless never take your gaze off the presence in front of you. In the meantime, Arueno's skin feels gradually drier, and his skull is experiencing strange heat. It feels like I've never felt it before in my life. What the hell is this?

Now Fialert is sucking up magic, he said. I don't understand Arueno as to exactly what that points to. But if you take the word as it is. Does this feeling mean that she is deprived of her magic because of its harshness, which leaves her spirit intact? Is that really possible? Arueno's eyebrows are distorted and his brain marrow stirs the doubt as it goes around.

Like scratching off that question, Fialert's black eyes shake. I thought that's how I gazed at Arueno, and I told him.

"- Arueno the Virgin. What do you think heroes are?

That was a word that did not respond to this question at all, a word that was too abrupt.

But based on the state of my voice, I don't feel I had any intention of ignoring this one otherwise. If I took it to Fialert, it seemed like it was natural to ask.

Unexpectedly Arueno ripples his lips in confusion, distorting his golden eyes.

In the meantime, Mordeaux, standing in front of him, steps forward with an axe. Spears were laid, so that the squire also continued to the Lord. Such a look, as if you understand the existence in front of you as a threat in itself. I can see a slight run of fear on that leg. But Fialert did not move in any way into the two movements, and seemed to be waiting for Arueno's words.

What is a hero? What an abstract question. Sometimes it will be defined as something that will lead the people, something that will transform history or bring victory. It's never like there's a definitive answer. What the hell is she looking for?

Without waiting for Arueno's response, Fialert went on to say even more. In the dark, only that voice was shaking the air.

"That's a bad way to ask, I'm sorry. The point is, I wonder what makes a person a hero."

It remains unchanged and cannot be absorbed by Arueno as to what the fialert is trying to say. But on his shaking lips, on his black eyes, and on the light green emission that overflowed from his body, there was something shaking for a moment.

Arueno heard his own back teeth, unknowing, trembling.

The tone of the fialert is still somewhere loose and soft. However, this inquiry involves heavy, heavy emotions that are very different from that tone. I don't think so, Arueno. My fingertips are getting cold enough to freeze.

Arueno opened his lips as he searched desperately for words. I can see the magic in me.

"... I don't know what the inquiry means. If you're going to answer, isn't it still talent, the tide of history, the love of God?"

Of course, that won't be all. Every other element is equipped for the existence of a hero.

But if you dare, these are the ones. Without genius, man is no match for history. If the tide of history does not take its side, it will not be possible to transform history. In that way, if you are spoiled by God, you cannot be a hero. You can't just be a hero.

Therefore, if you are asked what it is that dares you to make a hero a hero, let's answer:

Take that word. Fialert's lips swayed as if they were twitching. Small, voice. It was a small voice, one that was going to scratch out as it was in the dark.

- I mean, is that luck or not?

Moment after moment, I was scared of the spine of Kuriku and Arueno, and I ran. There was a noise in my ear, and I thought it rang.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Fialert narrows her eyelids as she gently nods at the words of the Virgin Arueno. I still felt the magic that would have been engulfed in Belfein, as turbulent and wild as it was in this body.

What makes a hero a hero? Genius talent, the tide of history, the love of God. I see, it wouldn't be a mistake. In order to capture the name of a hero, it is essential. It will be necessary for a poor human being to grip the thread of history.

So what makes you decide if you can grab them? An unrelenting effort. Or is it just overflowing wisdom? Is it also an experience that chews bitter tannins with its teeth?

No, it's not. No, it's not. Whether you can grab them or not is lucky in the end.

At least Fialert understands that and is convinced that it is the undisputed truth. That's how the truth is - crap. Oh, crap, there's enough. Behind the black eyes of the fialert, a flame that represents emotion burns up.

Without genius, heroes cannot be reached, even if they make enough effort to shred their bones or suffer enough hardship to burn down their bowels.

Without the backing of the tide of history, glory will not be held in its hands, even with all grace.

In that way, without the love of God, no matter how much talent and glory you dwell in it, you cannot live a happy life.

Yeah, I mean, without luck, you can't be a hero, you can't hold glory, you can't send a raw of happiness.

What a comedy. The presence that wrote the script must be insane. If you're crazy enough to write up a comedy like this, there's so much twisted sexual roots.

Is that all you are human? No, it doesn't have to be just human, is that all it is to live? Is it just an unusual lifetime of wishing good luck and praying for God's grace and salvation? Does fate tell you that it all depends on how you live, regardless of how you are born?

So if that's all that God has created this world, then I'm sure at the end of the day, the words we all cry out are decided. Everyone screams, as they once uttered, as they twist out of their dry throats. Just as the poor ask for gold coins, so that everyone in the desert asks for water, so that the underprivileged desire a drop of grace. Here's what I'm gonna say.

- Happiness in these hands, if you will.