A Wish to Grab Happiness

It is good to say that the progress of the joint meeting between the Crest Church and Gaza has been very smooth.

Larguedo-Ann had made his expression and attitude somewhat harder, but he had made progress on every street, and the fact that, above all, the representative of the crest religion, Virgin Mattia, Queen of Gaza, Finn-Erdis, existed at the same time, has made the meeting work smoothly.

If this were to be an exchange between the apostles, it would take days or weeks to create a compromise. Because we have to take action to make sure that we know where to give way to each other and how far is the authority given to our masters.

To the point of running a messenger using an early horse to confirm that, or creating a document with a full format against the master, people like me are no longer going to get dizzy about the excess annoyance.

Anyway, from people like me who had an operation meeting in a ghetto or a mercenary gathering, a collective decision can be determined by the flow or gambling on the spot. It is never something that comes to large layers by doing pre-planning or gathering information.

Because of that experience, I was staring at the meetings between the two forces with my eyes narrowed, remembering something that was somewhat close to impressive. Unknowingly, I am forced to cut my throat to death as my elbow nearly rose.

The other carias and fialerts in attendance seem to pinch their mouths at what they hear from time to time, but I didn't really feel that way.

Because the battle I've been to, for example, was a skilful battle between small troops, and I wasn't sure if the opinions of beings like me fulfilled and made sense in a big place where the forces stood fangs to fangs to fangs.

You know what that means, employer?

Similar to me, the blueder sitting near the end of the seat spoke with a small voice and one looked bad.

Apparently in the form of Vestalinu's surrogacy, Bruder shakes his brown hair with his eyes, wrinkling between his eyebrows and pointing his eyes if he doesn't understand the story very well.

But even if asked, there's only a little bit of knowledge that I've built up on my former journey. I don't think the content of knowledge is so different from that of a blueder.

"... aside from whether the edge of the word is right or wrong."

Yes, with a forethought, I narrow my eyes and whine my voice down. This is also enough to only be heard by Blooder again.

The Catholic Church, or the coalition of Garrist kingdoms and surrounding countries, is organizing its army with the walled city of Galuamaria as its target location.

If it were, would it be easier to invade the mercenary city of Belfein and the air garden of Gaza first, but would it not be more so than in the name of the Catholic Church and under the title of the crusade of the Old Church? Pre-built is convenient but troublesome at all times.

Its military size far exceeds that of the joint creed and Gaza army. If there's anything serious about eating, that's a ride between a dragon and a man. You can't even win. It will be visible to be swung by one enemy breath and shot with its gaze.

So you're saying there's no winning, Bruder says, shaking his lips like some other HR. Bruder sat shallow in his chair holding his two big hats now at hand.

"It would be easier if God could do a miracle."

If you ask me if I have a win, I honestly have no choice but to look bitter and cloud my expression. In the unlikely event that the Catholic Church becomes a complete dragon and descends this way, that is no longer possible. Very unlikely to find a winner.

That's why if you have a winning eye, you have to break the dragon's foot. I just have to repeat what I once did in Belfein.

The Catholic Church is a great religion large enough to swallow the Great Power, the Kingdom of Garrist, and the surrounding small nations. There is no way that an archdiocese of that magnitude can be so simple a structure that it can no longer be consolidated in a single rock.

Its interior is divided into multiple, if even small, factions that cannot be counted.

Two of the major ones among them are the secularists, who say that it is best to interact with the secular and its mixture, and the philosophers, who say that we should seek in anything the original, aspirational ideals of the Catholic Church.

Probably noblemen give to either of them, and that's not how they get along very well. It may have been a mutually reinforcing relationship at first, but now it is customary to pull your legs.

In addition to that, if some aristocracy, while ostensibly speaking of faith in the Catholic Church, still holds a firm grip on the ancient faith, then the organization Catholicism is already like every beast eating each other's flesh. Now it is only if we have a united enemy called the crest religion that we look as if we are wrapped up, but inside it is a miserable word.

Anne, a conference facilitator, waves a hot valve, saying that's the steep point of the dragon to be targeted.

- Gain a tactical victory over the philosophers, who are the main war-oriented, and work against the non-war-oriented vulgars and the former sectarian nobles to gain a strategic victory.

There is no need to beat all battlefields, all enemies. Virgin Matthia said to crease Ann's words that if the main warriors put in all their power on that fang-waving battlefield and only got one tactical victory, they could break his opponent's feet one by one later. Its eyes seem to lack room somewhere more than usual.

If I tell you, it's some kind of backward means. A bitter choice, like forcibly swallowing melted iron, renouncing a total victory from the start.

Let's just say the behavior worked and we got through this once. But when the cold season is over, the main warriors will sprout again anyway. And now, that's how the same means work. So this must just be a time buying strategy.

I said that the interior of the Catholic Church is a miserable thing, but this one is also terrible in this direction. Inside the organization is still fragile and must not remain augmented with armaments. Now he just has to harden himself and endure the cold breeze.

But that's what Mattia tells us, who puts intentions and reason first than anyone else, that we should buy time. Then there will still be no other means to be taken. Right. At least once, when the evangelical war was over, we hit the earth together, even in a catastrophe. Maybe things will change if they happen on this occasion now.

And then the pain runs, tingling as if it had a scratch on the back of his brain. From the depths of his gut, he felt something like unspeakable anxiety crawling up. I accidentally narrowed my eyes, broke a few fingers. Rub the back of your neck without knowing the opposite hand.

- That's crazy. How dare you calculate the number of years? Did I miss my memory?

Tilting his neck gently that way, he found, uh, the whole floor air sinking in quietly.

Earlier there should have been an argument with a hunch, but now everyone is uniformly closing their lips and letting them wander around wondering where their gaze was directed.

- Rugis, were you listening to me?

In such an incredible silence, Eldis says, as he leans his neck.

I blinked my eyelid for a few moments and gave my gaze back to Eldis as it was all about.

In all honesty, I hardly ever heard anything in this meeting because I refused to be asked for words or asked to say anything.

If you notice, all the sights around you are directed toward me. The same goes for Anne and Mattia, and for Kalia and Fialert. Is it my fault that those eyes contain such properties as to shoot through this one?

No, it's my fault. Then you don't. I can even feel some heavy pressure in that gaze.

Once again, Eldis opened her lips as she clasped her shoulders like she was frightened. On the verge of hearing the words, I felt like my fingertips were paralyzed.

"So in the battle against the Catholic Church, I guess he joins the troops as a knight of Gaza. That's all I want."

Oh, I see. That's the story.

I'm glad it's not a complicated and intertwined story: tactics, strategies, etc. Then everything is settled. I say, opening my lips a little heavier, honking my throat once and toning my voice.

"No, I've already decided on a role. I'd be standing like a crest mercenary right now. Then I thought I'd move officially and independently."

He turned his gaze to Erdis somehow, adding that there would be no more upset about the creed religion or Gaza.

A strange, truly incredible look appeared on Eldis's face. I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I did. Its lips shake quietly.

- Rugis, you're supposed to be my knight, right?

The moment I said that, Eldis' blue eyes were brilliant as if they reflected a dull light, I could see.