A Wish to Grab Happiness

What I thought was that I miss my mouth.

My lips are strangely dry, and my cheeks are cold. There is a sticky, disgusting twisted feeling in my mouth. Water or liquor, but whatever. I wanted to include something in my mouth and get rid of this spooky feeling first.

Open your eyes as you reach out to explore your surroundings. Moment after moment, the sunlight plunged into my eyes. Blurry vision finally regains its contour when you blink your eyelids a few degrees reflexively.

I wonder where it was, here. I was staring at the stone ceiling.

Apparently, the body woke up, but not in my head either. Thoughtful thinking didn't come to mind at all, and it seemed like the head itself was telling me to fall asleep for a while. Then let's sweeten it up.

I narrow my eyes as I weigh my eyelids again, and only my right hand asks for something with only a water difference, cutting the sky.

If this place is on the bedding, it's not strange that there is only a difference in water between the pillows and a bottle of wine. Something tangles in my fingers when I start to learn frustration with my hands that keep cutting the sky. It's like the yarn got tangled up, the feel. I wiggle my fingers gently, but they don't unravel well.

I just don't know what the hell it is, I turn my gaze. There was something silver tangled up in my right finger. I felt thoughts that were supposed to have been barely functioning run with noise in my skull.

- Silver thread?

It sure looked that way, brilliant in the sun. Such a silver yarn that is smooth and beautiful and will probably be worth every single one of them.

But strange, would I have used something like this for bedding? Not very, but it doesn't look fancy and it's not like I can reach it. The crest teachings, so wasteful luxury goods to your hands, you should not have done anything to eat or fish for gold. Then why is there a silver thread right next to my pillow?

As a matter of fact, I had a feeling. I have a very, very bad feeling about this. My lips are going to give me cramps. There was certainty that this was not actually a silver thread.

Open your eyelids wide at the rate that you're really afraid. I turned my face to the right. That's how it was.

Sleep undisturbed, my knight lord, with his righteous face sparingly exposed to the sun. Kalia's figure was right next to her, and that's where her body almost touched her. And what I'm entangling in my right hand must be her flowing hair.

Well, am I going to die here?

I don't know. I heard my chest squeal like that. I'm not sure why, but I'm just saying I'm looking up at Kalia's sleeping face, and somewhere in my body is in crisis. No, in the first place, what's going on and I'm in this situation.

Turn away from Karia's sleeping position so she can escape. In fact, it is not nice to continue to look at her in a different way than the instinctive sense of crisis that the body is about to complain about. Not that there's anything in particular. It's not a good idea anyway.

I think I'm getting out. Let's get out of here.

Looking around the edge from the edge of thought, I don't see why I've come to this situation right now. At least first of all, there must be no cause for me. Yeah, but I must have smashed that meat-chunk monster into pieces at the Lordship Hall in Belfein. I can't see why this is happening all of a sudden. Then you should decide not to see it all anymore.

She tried to wake herself up while being polite so that she would not be forced to pull her hair tangled in her right hand.

As soon as I do, now I realize that my left arm itself does not move as if it had been consolidated. Even so, it didn't mean my arm was out of use, it felt that way, like I was being suppressed around my elbow by something. Besides, something that suppresses it is warm.

Exhale, swallow. My lips are still strangely dry.

Now he turned his gaze to the opposite side of Kalia and the left hand side. I see black, long hair waving comfortably over white bedding.

The Sorcerer's Palace, Fiarat-La Borgograd, seemed comfortable sleeping for a long time, leaking his sleep as he rounded his body. As if it were natural, with my left arm in my arms.

Isn't this a lot more troublesome than I think? That word came up in the back of my brain.

Why are these two sleeping together on bedding that is not even big enough? And why am I stationed in the center of it? I don't know. Not at all, I don't know.

It was when the cerebral cord finally began to understand the fatal situation in which it was placed, and apparently this place began to hit me as if it were a room in Gallu Amalia.

- Good addition or subtraction, employer. I brought you some rice.

Conn, Conn and. A voice that seemed to belong to my best friend, Bruder, echoed in the room at the same time as a knock that seemed somewhat rough.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

"- Ann, how's he doing?"

A clerk in the crest religion and the right arm of Virgin Mattia, she, Largd-Ann, responds to the voice with a pink ear.

"Yes, Virgin Mattia. The doctor said there were no special problems. I thought you'd wake up soon."

While saying so, Ann's gaze never leaves the parchment spread over the desk, and her fingertips touch the feather pen. That's the same with Mattia, the Virgin who spoke to Ann. Neither will slow down the movement of that hand in a single moment.

For some time, Mattia herself, arguably the central function of the walled city of Galuamaria, was lost from the city. No matter how right-handed Anne is, she can't cover all of her functions. What can be done precisely is the degree of first aid to the wounds lost by Virgin Mattia. It's an on-the-spot treatment for sneezing.

Naturally, administrative affairs and projects that cannot be handled will accumulate high.

Mattia therefore spends everything but her sleep on her desk, not to mention the price of temporary freedom. No, to be honest, that's still not enough. Ann managed to swallow the exhale, which was about to leak unexpectedly from her lips, into the back of her throat.

Still, it would have been nice if it had been just a project inside Galuamaria. There are new problems here now.

Belfein, a mercenary city, became a kind of blank zone when the lord in charge of the city's affairs collapsed and at the same time the steel princess controlling the mercenaries disappeared. The crest teachings are now jumping with this city in their hands. That is enough to put most of what can be done in government into the fight against Berfein.

Naturally, you can't keep your eyes open because a city as big as Belfein can get it just like that if you reach for it. It will not be so difficult now for the crest to exercise influence.

In any case, in the midst of confusion, the people cannot choose their own people to govern. If there is anything to take the lead and govern, we will follow it unknowingly. Similar to the sheep being led by a shepherd who goes to the head of the flock, without even knowing where they are going.

Now Belfein is just the sheep themselves. It is only a being that is detached from the herd and waiting for the wolf's fangs to devour.

Therefore, it would no longer be an exaggeration to say that the creed religion, in addition to Galuamaria, left a huge city called Belfein under its influence. In itself, it's not great.

Yes, if we divert our attention from the amount of government that is thereby greatly increased.

- Maybe I'll die here.

At last Ann rubbed her eyes lightly as she even remembered such a hunch on her fingertips that she had even lost her senses.

Virgin Mattia, the work of the Hall of Mortal Heroes is certainly wonderful. I can't help but distort my eyes to solitary action, which can be called recklessness on boulders, but I'm pretty sure I did no more work for a force called crestry.

I am sure that if I were to pen history, I would write about the Hero with praise and admiration. But I want to add this next to it, Ann thinks.

He said it was indisputably Largued-Ann who wore the wrinkles of Rugis' heroic actions all around him.

I felt my vision dazzled by Anne. Open lips so as to distract fatigue.

"Rather, it would be Master Vestalinu who worries. I'm calm now, but Master Blooder seems to be almost ready."

Steel princess vestarinu.

Anne understands that she is the most important trophy in this commotion. In the mercenary city of Belfein, it was naturally the lord, Mordoe-Gorn, who had substantial rule behind it. But what reigned as the face of the table was undoubtedly the Vestallinu-Gorn, who had two names: Princess Iron and Steel.

Ann strongly hoped that the format would definitely be maintained even when the creed ruled Berfein. This, of course, will be the same in Mattia.

What a beautiful story it is that, ostensibly, Vestalinu, the steel princess who lost her father, sheds shelter on her wounded body but devotes herself to rule. People prefer to talk about such beauty. If the people have a preferred story, it will be easier to govern for that matter. Because it has nothing to do with the people who rule substantively behind it.

Steel princess vestaline on the table and crest teachings on the back. If this format can be maintained, the concerns in Belfein will almost disappear. So at all costs, she, and Bruder, the flesh and blood parents, are the people who want to keep it as a crest. Anne believes that good use of them will feed the crest.

That's why he turned his gaze up for a moment and in his chest Anne let him whine.

- I ask you to grip all the reins, Hero.

I couldn't help but hope that the wish would not come true anyway.