A Wish to Grab Happiness

Roimets-Fomor Hall. Slowly from its back door, Richard shows himself as if a shadow were crawling out.

Nothing, as grandiose as it got out of the front door, Roimetz, my lord, would say nothing, but he still never went over to turn his mind around.

Besides, Richard could not like the magnificent place, such as the main entrance to the hall held by a noble nobleman. Just being there makes me feel like I have something bad in my mouth. Rather, a slightly dimmer place, like the back street, was more suited to the human nature of Richard. The water, the air, suits my body.

Richard thinks human beings have their own place to breathe. So that the fish may no longer fly out into the sky and dance through the universe, and vice versa, so that the birds may submerge in the water and not make it their dwelling place.

It is decided where humans should live, or where they can live. Richard doesn't even know if it's a guy named God or something else altogether.

It doesn't mean it's minute enough. It's ridiculous to tell him to give up his identity. Some people, even if they were born aristocrats, don't see the world above them. Some people are born and lost in a sunless world, unable to adapt and die.

In the end, people cannot live by sticking out of the world they should live in. It's just that.

In that thought, deep in his head, a figure of his former goddaughter emerged. Speaking of which, what about him now?

The guy, Rugis, was born into an undisputed world of sunshine, and survived there. I remember him painting it on the mud, shuddering that he was going to grab the sunlight in this hand sooner or later.

That had qualities to live in, even where no sunlight could be disputed. Even so, he wasn't brilliantly talented. I didn't even find it a hero's vessel or anything. It was just qualities.

Even though they cut themselves off to mockery by painting them into sludge, they have the qualities to stretch their fingers and bite them raw. That's why I taught him so much. In a world where there's nothing I can do about it, the way it survives. The art of living.

That Rugis is about to set foot in a world of light now. Whatever, even in the position of the Great Revolutionary, it is certain that the sunshine of history has been shed all over the body.

Richard narrows his eyes as he caresses that white beard unexpectedly. Wrinkles were deeply engraved in his expression. A little bit, I wanted to talk to him, Richard thought. I was purely interested when I said that it was no longer time to head to the battlefield and exchange blades.

After all, is the world you are in now comfortable or bad for you? I wanted to hear that. It doesn't mean you want either answer. Really, I was just curious.

Anyway, that's the path I once took. And I couldn't adapt, Road Trail. There won't be anything strange about just a little curiosity coming out of your chest. Wrinkles carved into Richard's face distort and the shadows deepen.

"- What's up, you're in a good mood, villain? Did you finally crush your head with booze?"

Its evil is thrown, as it pokes Richard's surprise. It was a woman's voice, like piercing her opponent sharply. Richard's eyelid blinks unexpectedly.

Behind the back street, the person was staring at Richard as he tried to come just this way. His face didn't look good because he was wearing a robe, but his voice sounded familiar.

"What, you were here too, Valerie? The Lord's busy, too."

That was more like throwing a word out into the air than talking to a person sitting in front of you. Richard also moves forward without stopping his legs, not knowing if his opponent is listening. The opponent also seemed unwilling to stop his legs, as did Richard, and proceeded to walk closer to each other.

When they said they were exchanging words in a way they knew each other, their bare hands didn't even care about each other, they just seemed to be headed to their destination.

"Where are you going?

Without changing any of her facial expressions, the woman called Valerie shakes her lips slightly. The tone of its voice makes it feel undisputed and noble. Richard heard that the verses of the spoken word mix with the rhetoric handled by the superior class.

"East. Thought I'd eat some good fish. There will be a good living one now"

Richard can't even blink one, he says. The distance between them shrunk more. At that time, they stopped, only for a moment.

"Well, then I'm west. It's not easy in the east. Everyone still thinks the battlefield is here."

"Then you can finish it quickly and make it easier. I want to be lurking in the back all the time if I can, too."

That was all. No big greetings, no bickering. Exchange all those words to make them differ from each other and go away. From a distance, I'm sure, the paths just overlapped. You won't be able to feel any connection between the two.

Richard narrowed his eyes as he stroked his white beard with his fingertips. Valerie, I understand too much about the woman earlier, her breasts filled with gloomy emotions.

Yes, the truth is, no one thinks of the East as a battlefield or anything. Nobody in the garrison thinks that crest religion is a beast that eats its own neck off, etc. You must not even have imagined that we would be defeated. From a garrison's point of view, the crest religion still has only about the edge of the wood.

Then more importantly, it's not just about winning. It's about winning and holding rights in its hands. Now the crests are expanding not only the trading city of Galuamaria, but even the mercenary city of Belfein, as their sphere of power.

When that happens, there is no longer only one thing the nobles of the Garrist kingdom and the priests of the cathedral think about.

After all this is over, who will make the land his own good, if he says so? I guess some of them are welcoming this current commotion with a compliment, Richard thinks. If it's normal, you may be able to strip the land you're not supposed to get, or if it's a messy place, you may be able to strip it like a fire thief.

Oh, the crests. If you're going to die anyway, take more than your surroundings, gain weight, and then die. Human beings thinking that way, too, must have been few.

Richard understands that's why people like him are used. My eyebrows rose and my eyes glowed brilliantly in the dim darkness.

The work that Richard is inherently entrusted to him by his Lord Roimets-Fomor is all about backside work that can't be put on the table. In other words, I specialize in dirty work.

Yes, the role of turning hands behind and giving profit to the Lord, as it did when it fell into the House of Birdnick, once a political enemy.

But now we have to pull this old soldier out onto the surface stage, which is why other troops are suppressed in the political arena.

But, well. All this time it's not bad to interact with such rotten aristocrats. For the first time in a while, it's going to be interesting. Not bad. Not bad, really.

- Well, what do you say, Rugis? Just a little bit, I guess I grew up.