A Wish to Grab Happiness

A soldier pushes through the main streets of the capital of the Kingdom of Garrist. A large number of soldiers licked the streets as if they had even become one wave.

Everyone stretches out their breasts with dignity, lifts their feet high, and tramples the earth with exasperation. Civic cheers engulf the soldiers, and the heat emitted by the people daunts the soldiers' breasts.

An enthusiasm was swallowing Garrist.

to the people, merchants, nobles and priests. Everyone quickens its heartbeat and burns blood like a flame. Shake up your hard gripped fists and cheer for soldiers heading to jihad. As if all this time there were no longer a giant wall named the class that usually ruthlessly divides them. Everybody was, like, feverish.

That's how everyone talks, screams.

- Retrieve Galuamaria, and bring us the land again.

walled city, or the trading city of Galuamaria. The land that is the center of trade between East and West is exactly like a chicken that keeps laying gold. God bless and capital, which gives undisputed riches and glory to what you own.

The people tell me they took it away from me, no one knows where it is. I raise a cry of hatred that the heathens have stepped on our land.

And here's what everybody said. Yeah, that's why our lives are so painful.

That's why we have to live with whipping and tightening our spirits. The heathens took away our glory. Our misfortune is that all our misfortunes are at the hands of heathens.

We accepted their pagan affair with forgiveness. I even promised that future and salvation. But as it turned out, they poked a knife at us. No longer are they the ungrateful, the beasts who looked like men.

The people roar. Gallu Amalia in our hands again. Give me that golden land. Blood on the beast of betrayal.

"It is the word of the Archdiocese, from under the Pope -"

When the soldiers stopped their feet in the Great Square and their voices finally began to subside. The roaring voice of the Archdiocesan priest clings to the boulevard.

The figure on the platform provided in the square was a muscular man, an outfit about twice as big from what I would imagine when I heard him as a priest. That voice is low and doesn't suit people in any way to preach.

But that's why it resonated so well in the square. The enthusiasm of the people held their breath in the square.

"- Galuamaria is precisely to us, a golden nut. It is a gift from our only God. It is now in the hands of the unjust."

For a while, words like dictates are contoured. Perhaps the majority of those gathered here do not understand the details. But we all understood that the words did hold back the emotions that were in us.

The sound of folk leaking overlapped. It was the sound of throats, and the sound of the heart bouncing.

"What a tough thing to do. Oh, my God, what to worry about. We have now given more than God's gift into the stomach of the beast!

The voice moves loudly as if it were in the ambient atmosphere. To the extent that the people were in tune with their voices and reacted, the priest put more heat into his words.

"- Everybody, put your hands up! Get the right thing right into the hands of the owner! This is a feat. It is a battle to serve God!

Whoever participates in this feat shall be promised salvation. After death will be given eternal happiness.

Yes, the moment the priest's voice sounded. The city rocked.

A vortex of enthusiasm rips the air. Everyone raises his hand and opens his hands to heaven as if he were asking for something.

It was just a big swirl. People's emotions become a cry, swallowing the Garrist capital.

Nothing is the only citizen who originally resides in the capital, the folk grass that is stuck in its fanaticism. Something that has stretched its legs from the countryside around the city to selling precious iron farming tools, and sometimes selling flowers in the dark at night. All this time now, I threw myself into that vortex.

Is that from religious passion?

Indeed, the crests turned their fangs against the Catholic Church. You must still be targeting this one's throat. If you think so, they are certainly great enemies.

But no. I don't care about that.

So is it inexcusable that the profits of the trading city of Galuamaria have been lost?

That can't be right. Where the First Gallu Amalia was in the hands of the Catholic Church, only the upper-class human being can hold his tongue drummed with riches. How shall folk grass repay the favor? Precisely, even a few more grains of wheat in your mouth would do well.

So it really doesn't make any sense. There is no point in them being angry at Galuamaria for falling, or burning their enemies against the crests.

What makes sense to them is that the sentiments of anger and hatred, which are repellent in calm, are found to be justified only at this time. That it is absolved in the name of God to take from others and to set others on their feet.

Oh, ever, I've been stomped. He's been spitting at me. It's been taken away. I was made to paint my dignity on the mud. Still, I had to endure it.

I bit off so much that I was about to bite my back teeth off that I let blood seep into my nails. I couldn't have lived without it. There were days when we just lay our hands on each other for no reason that salvation could be given.

But that's over, too. They say there is definite salvation here. Fight for God, take it for God, lose your life for God.

Is there anything more?

It's okay now. You don't have to endure it anymore. Routine, that's not the kind of pressure you need to endure to want to tighten your throat yourself anymore. Tomorrow, you don't have to worry about bread to fill your stomach, or freeze just because you're covered in cold weather.

Salvation is here.

No one tries to come off that vortex anymore. All the people indulge in their own justice in that extraordinary zeal.

They were already at their limit. There's a life where the hard to overshadow difference in identity doesn't even leave you living every day, just repeating poverty.

If you don't get a day's work, that's all the kid dies for. Life is taken for a handful of bread. Such a stupid life couldn't stand them anymore. The outpouring of that emotion is here now.

What a pleasant indulgence. I wave my hands in mistake that I am in justice. That's how we wait until salvation, so there's no longer any point in denying it.

Its, vain religious zealots fill Garrist's capital. The poorer he took the sword. Don't worry about tomorrow. That's how everyone said it.

- Everything is as God wills.

The first wave of the Catholic Church marched more than Garrist with enthusiasm.