A Wish to Grab Happiness

Purple light sets the battlefield as a spark. Whenever the treasure sword was waved, its hectic beauty defeated the enemy soldiers. A treasure sword with a thick purple line on a silver blade - a hero killing and a blade engraved with such a name, sounds like a smile.

Excellent. This is it, hero. That must be my handshake. No, I'm no longer a mixed being with a handshake, so maybe it's strange to call me a handshake, etc., but, well, I don't mind.

As the beast shatters his prey, so does the Lord Rugis slaughter his soldiers. Blood, organs and bones were exposed to the wind whenever a flash was drawn hollow in our purple electricity.

Oh, what a blessing. This time must be blissful. I move myself the way the owner wants me to, and the owner takes the path to the hero I want.

If the path is covered in great distress, let yourself crush it. Let us even pay the pebble at the feet of the Lord to show it.

The sword thinks that it is what it should be. If you don't have enough experience, you can pour the knowledge into yourself. If you don't have enough strength, it's better if you become a new finger that fills its fingertips. As the purple electricity of the sword hissed, it was brilliant. A breathtaking orbit rises to the battlefield.

The sword has held just as many heroes as it has ever held. He who crushes the stars, he who is called victory itself, he who has forsaken glory himself. There were things of various talents, many brave men and swords have walked together. And many heroes have cut their way with treasure swords in their hands.

In other words, he's a talented recorder. Things that are with the heroes of history and that have carved their talent into them. The trajectories, abilities, and ways of talent of those who were once heroes and honored are all in this body.

If the Lord needs it, He will teach you as many swordflashes as the heroes once tracked and showed you. In awkwardness, let's force him to carve it into his body.

What, now I'm with the handshake Rugis. The body is no longer melted, the self is him, the self with him.

Then give yourself your full strength, and who shall be displeased? Mostly because I can't do that. Because the Lord is himself again. There can be no foolishness in pushing your intentions.

There are still a number of enemy soldiers, and no matter how many dead soldiers you become, you will have difficulty cutting through all of them with a small number of soldiers. The Lord's thoughts are too narrow and too narrow a path. I would very much not choose it as a means if it were normal. If you reach for it, your fingers will be torn, your feet will be bloodstained with tsu thorns, such a path.

But if the Lord Rugis chooses that path.

- I don't mind at all. Rather, it is the supreme pleasure to accept it.

Whatever you do, you are the tool used to clear the way. Now I am the Lord Himself, but the essence of it is nothing more than a tool that the gods, the great demons, once created by shredding their bodies. If it is to be, it is joy itself that does what it does for the Lord.

I even remember the trance of the Lord, who did not even try to rely on his own strength, but now it is he who relies on himself to advance his feet. The killing of heroes and the inscription so engraved scattered the light of purple electricity as if it were going to happen even in lightning.

Rugis' body shatters another step, another step and an enemy formation, pulling a thousand pieces. It was such a terrible thing that I just learned to handle the ferocious fangs, like I was just waving them around.

Still, that's all Rugis did took the legs of the army of the Archdiocese one step back.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Behavior of enemy soldiers as if they had given up their lives, repeated in front of them. Seeing the sight, Richard thought something was still wrong with him. I don't have to ask why. If you look at this silly act, everyone understands it at a glance.

Among the multitude of armies, a horde of soldiers leads a small crowd to devour their bellies. Several lives were immediately lost during the assault. Everytime I go one step further, someone's life is flying.

It was natural. Though the front lines are crumbling, the Archdiocesan soldiers are curved, trained regular soldiers. Even in an unusual outfit, you can do enough to poke a spear out and poke a pig back repeatedly.

Take it and move on. Still, that one moves forward. Originally, such a silly progression loses momentum somewhere, swallows the spear in his belly and spits blood to death. That's all, it should be.

"Beautiful way to fight then hey...... who taught you"

Richard squeaks as he distorts his lips and deepens the wrinkles on his cheeks. I just don't remember ever telling you to give up your life and move on. Anyway, there's only a few things you can get from doing that. Where I fought madly to death and was temporarily famous and drunk, it means nothing. At the end of the day, they just take everything and end it.

No matter how powerful you are or how hard you work for something. The result remains the same.

Then it seems stupid to risk your life or something. Without moving your own fingertips, only profit goes into your chest while driving others to their dead places. Such a way of life is much better.

I understand it's a biased idea. Still, Richard believed the idea, and he wasn't willing to change it now. Richard thinks he's too old to change his way of life now.

"Hey, Neymar"

While on the back of the horse, gently pull the reins and call the deputy. The gaze remains poured on the battlefield, and on Rugis. A white beard shakes the sky slightly.

Yes, and Neymar's voice, who returned that word, had gained much solidity. He still doesn't care about the enemy's advances in front of him. Even if you know that an assault, arguably a self-inflicted act of Rugis, is not such an easy way to break through your own army, you will have to breathe.

Fine. The cowardice of seriousness is more prolonged in the battlefield than the audacity of the brave. Try to learn everything you can in this battlefield.

"What do you think"

Moving against his jaw, he pointed to a crowd of soldiers coming towards him as dead soldiers.

Naimar swallows his spit as he blinks his eyelids in the words for a moment. The way he rounded his eyes, he seemed desperate to find words.

Shaking his lips, Neymar says.

"... well said, brave and resolute, but if I say it, it's just a reckless advance"

Richard nods aloud and deepens the wrinkles in his mouth. There was a sword hanging at his waist, and he made a noise and swayed.

"Don't even think about imitating that one. You can't put your life on a scale without serious tactics."

In a way, it is ultimately reasonable. Normally, no human being would make the choice to lose his or her life, even if he or she understood that it was the most correct choice. No, rather such an option, it shouldn't even come to mind.

Even so, that godchild thought of it and did so as a matter of course. That is no longer the way humans should fight.

No, you can't.

Richard grates his weighted eyelids and narrows his eyes. The barbaric voice of my godson struck me in the ear.

That, Rugis, is a mortal man of all evil talent. Hard work and drilling won't reach the talent. On the contrary, he was finally just a little twisted to send his routine with a desperate scratch on his body and spirit.

I can't do anything to expand the world to suit me, and I can't live if I bend my body to match the world. I should have been such a good person, just a person.

That's now, oh, and it's showing a fight that's not human.

What happens if just a mediocre person continues to fight like a non-human. I'm sure you know that. Just as a human being who imitates the behavior of a lunatic becomes a lunatic as well. If you continue to behave like an outsider, sooner or later Sole will cease to be human.

Of course, normally, all the rattles come in the body and in the flesh before they do. It is decided to break.

To the best of my knowledge, a human being named Rugis should have been normal everywhere. I don't remember that body being tough either. Richard slowly lifted his lid and stared at the battlefield.

"Mine, I don't know if it's a role - Deputy Neimar, I command you. Take command of the soldiers until I get back. Allow ambushes to be used only to rescue soldiers when they eat or break the flank of an enemy army."

What, feel free to try, I'll take the blame. That's all Richard said, his own military horse, his reins strong, pulled.