A Wish to Grab Happiness

There was a long, long way to go. It seems that the path is distorted, twisted, and can no longer even be a beast path. Sometimes even the disconnect was repeated, but still, the road was where it was.

He dazzled me, walked distracted, the journey. While I'm at it, it's all over. If this is some act, the audience must be left without even one stupid performer.

His throat was exhausted, his hands and feet exhausted and worn out. And now I'm certainly at the end of that journey.

- Five seconds have passed. The surroundings lost the noise characteristic of the battlefield, and there was only silence as time had stopped.

Left shoulder, no. All the sensations in the left half of the body become dull as if they had been paralysed. Splashed around and polluted the sky as if blood had crawled out of his body in search of freedom. My nose, which no longer worked in the battlefield, hit me.

The left and right eyelids open with cramps and stiff eyes are exposed to air. The accumulated air in the depths of his lungs leaks out of his lips in a breath. Moment after moment, I had the kind of pain of running across my left arm.

My left shoulder, try to break that meat, Richard-Permilis' black sword is brilliant. A wave of unstoppable blood tides blew up from his shoulder like wild. It's as if the dead give a final cry. When it looks so bad, I can't accept it's about me. But I'm sure it must have turned out the same way.

Originally, then. The blow fired by that black sword was supposed to eat and kill my heart. He should have torn my half like he had a fractured shoulder bone and no muscle resistance.

The opponent is Richard-Permilis. My spicy master. To that extent, it is decided to breathe out but accomplish as well. Therefore, there was a reason why it could not be achieved.

Purple electricity glowed as if to boast its own appearance as its vision could be applied to redness and blackness.

The treasure sword, that sword bearing the name of the hero killer, is at the end of his sight, tearing the bowels of Richard-Permilis. It was like slitting his left belly itself.

A mass of blood falls from the flank of Richard-Permilis, making an unpleasant noise. My eyes narrowed.

"For the first time, my grandfather received a sword. Much, much farther. It's a terrible detour."

I say, spitting out a bloody build-up overflowing in my mouth. Wonder, his left shoulder chopped up and his body moves. There was no such thing as a force coming out of the limbs. On the contrary, so much so that I rather live deeper.

In front of you, a face with deep wrinkles is distorted. The lips, which would have aged, slowly opened.

"- Elf's, the curse, and the magic ritual? Stupid way to walk."

Like throwing up, Richard-Permilis said. I don't know what that word is pointing to or what a boulder is. But to a certain extent, I was able to guess.

Normally, no matter how much the human body is willing or squeezing its full power, the flesh is stiff on the spot if it is struck with a rigid blow that threatens its life.

If a blade is embedded in one's own body, it is only natural that the hands will be paralyzed, thoughts and wills will be blown away, and no attack will be possible, as it was vowed at the stake of life to tear apart the enemy with the sword.

In fact, Richard-Permilis' blow, which was supposed to kill my heart, has also ended up highly-scratching my shoulder for taking the slash of a treasure sword to my belly.

And yet. I was struck hard by a black sword on my left shoulder and swung off the treasure sword to Richard-Permilis. I could shake it off. On the contrary, with the present, the left hand, which would otherwise lose its power, holds the pattern of the treasure sword with strength.

Obviously, something's wrong. There was such a sign that the world's reason was badly sloppy.

Well, if this is the curse of the elves, the magic ritual, then maybe it is. I'm not sure I remember myself at all.

He forced his body to move as he stiffened his eyes and felt the feeling of blood dripping from his lips. Pull out the sword. I could see the unpleasant feeling spreading on hand. Meanwhile, Richard-Permilis took the black sword from my left shoulder.

The blood of both defiled the scattered earth again. In front of her eyes, her wrinkled lips groan with distortion.

The surroundings were surrounded by strange silence. There were such signs that both archdeacons and crest instructors were blinking their eyes as they swallowed each other.

"I am grateful. I'll make it easy for you to die."

I swung up the treasure sword with my right hand as I overflowed the blood tide from my left shoulder, I said.

Richard-Permilis shouldn't have enough leeway to just shake off the black sword anymore. It doesn't make a difference how he is old, though how he keeps his tough flesh. Just wielding your sword on the battlefield should drain your health.

Besides, I tore my belly. The more strength you can put into it, the more pain you should run that will break you. I can't even move on my own anymore. Therefore, if you slap that head with a treasure sword, it will all be over.

Even so, the old man did not show any fine dust such as how exhausted he was, but made himself laugh, and said.

"Ka, haha...... you and that guy, how come all the guys who get under me are idiots. No aesthetic shards, either."

That word I was told to spit out, keeping my stomach under control with my hands. For a moment, I distorted my eyelids thinking about what the word meant.

Next, moment. The barbaric voices that had been lost from the surroundings were roaring louder than the enemy formation. An indisputable, wrapped mass of soldiers signals the start of an assault. The very pulsation of the existence of an army. Besides, the voice is strangely full of vivacity. A new soldier must have put up a spear on the battlefield.

At this time, a new soldier can't be our army.

Ambush. At this time, I don't know who is in command of the Archdiocesan Army, but that person chose to have the Ambush face raised. Perhaps its purpose is to save Richard-Permilis' predicament.

But stupid. Is that possible?

My offense with Richard-Permilis should have been an instant. I don't think there are people who can not only instantly perceive the situation, but who can give me a decision on the occasion that allows me to put an ambush into immediate use.

Is there someone besides the old general in front of you who can handle soldiers that way? Considering that, honestly, there were people who just accidentally put in ambushes, which seems like a good idea.

You would have reacted to that ambush's fury. Me and Richard-Permilis get their time back in a flash of defense with our breathtaking surrounding soldiers.

But now the whole soldier still has the agitation of being hurt by the general. Again its hips were regaining their weakness. This person served his purpose. Now you can join the army.

He narrowed his eyes in front of his master, who had the black sword in his hand but remained bowed. For a moment, I turn my thoughts around in my head, distort my lips, say.

"How about I win this time, Grandpa -"

It's like we once had a conversation in a liquor store, and that's what we talk about. My voice strangely went through the battlefield, I see.

- I'll give it to you, you fucking kid.

Yes, say it. The wound would hurt, Richard, no. Grandpa threw the liquor from his back at me. He responds with his shoulders gently raised and his voice echoed.

- The purpose was served. Rendezvous with the army. We'll survive.