A Wish to Grab Happiness

Open your eyes as you spread your eyelids in the dark. In a dungeon stained with black, I could see every inch of the day.

A man who falls and falls down while drooling blood from his neck. Instruments like those built just to hurt people. Besides, there was Phyllos-Treit, who just glistened in his eyes as he was tied to chains and unable to move. In the verses of its body, a mole-like thing emerges. Just a glance at it conveyed enough what happened here.

"Kill me here. I'm not on your side."

Yes, I almost sigh unexpectedly at the way she forcibly opens her lips to say it. The voices heard in the ears were as if they were separate from those heard in the crest church position. Only the white eyes remain the same, looking at this one. Kill him, or you're here.

Vestalinu-Guerla, who later refrained, takes the cantera, which was sitting on the floor, says.

"Lord Rugis, she's confused no matter what you think. It's common for people who have been tortured or badly punished."

So don't let it get too irritating, Vestalinu said in a serious-looking manner. What makes you say this even though there wasn't that kind of interaction, but I think it's really a Vesta-like word.

Be good at understanding the situation and make the most correct decisions on the spot. Some are so comfortable as mercenary leaders. On the other hand, I was thinking something completely different from Vestalinu. So I'm sure I don't have a mercenary leader.

- You should have killed him in that place.

I should have snapped his neck when I met him on the battlefield. That way, Phyllos-Treit should have never tasted such pain, nor licked the spicy acid that way. He said he could have died as ruler of the proud city of Philos. Totally, I'm sorry I did that.

I tell him to be pompous and squeaky.

"What, I don't care if it's all better"

That was not in response to Vestalinu's voice. I wiped the blood out of the knife with it pulled out of the man's neck, keeping my eyes open and only taking Philose-Trait into my sight.

She did say to kill herself. The word no longer seemed to contain a color close to a plea. He doesn't want to live anymore, he wants to let everything go.

I can't help it either. It seems that her dignity and pride, the ruler of the city of Philos, have been laid to the ground, and she can no longer see the light beyond. Betrayed by citizens who would have believed and loved them the most. That memory will leave flaws in her soul at all times. From here on out, it's easy to sing raw no matter how you live.

That's why I heard. I wonder if it's gotten better. I was wondering if you wanted to throw everything out.

If that's what happened, I'll kill you here. I'm sure that would be much happier.

I don't care about everything, I give up everything, I just breathe inert and repeated. That can no longer be said to be alive. I don't suppose he's dead, but that's all.

Staring into Philose-Trait's white eyes as he turns the knife that wiped away the blood completely at hand. I felt much more cloudy than when I stared in the crest tent. She said, distorting her lips for a moment, to spit them out.

"I don't care, it's good. Because I have no choice."

With his eyes round, he looks back at Philose-Trait. I don't know what that means, I can't really read that meaning. She carried on the words as she rippled her lips.

"There's no way I don't care. To the habit of not knowing what I've done for Philos, for this city. I don't even know how much humiliation I've embellished my chest."

The behavior was as if the mother were talking about the child. In the cloudy eyes, I see my emotions shaking.

I see, this is pure, my words were frivolous. I'm sure for Phyllos-Treit, a city called Phyllos is like a child who has raised himself with handsalt. Betrayed by the child, he was struck to the ground. Guessing that mood on its own is probably rude.

Did the pain run on his body because of his raised voice, fluttering, Phyllos-Treit abhors his breath? And when he had given her from the commandment of the chain, he made her to support her body, and said with a clear voice, Vestalinu.

"Then there's no hurry. Sooner or later, the forces of the crest will surround Philos and restore the reign to your hands from what will be the Roseau. Now suppress your emotions."

I think that's a word that leaked out of a place called kindness or compassion. But I suppose you understand that with Philose-Trait. Knowing that, she told her to kill herself for her own good.

"I appreciate the generosity. That doesn't make sense to me. You helped me, I pulled my hand, I was guided and everything went well. Yes, end of story, how dare I. You shouldn't settle for yourself in your life."

Let your lips clump, just like Vestalinu ate your face. I guess you didn't think you could jump off an island without taking your own words.

Right, is she of this nature? Proud, so stubborn. When I saw it once, it still seemed a little softer. I guess that's just that I wasn't captured by her nature.

Elegance and stubbornness. Those two are the essence of the Philosopher-Trait.

She keeps saying the words. It was pale, then a voice that exhaled emotions.

"If you can't settle with your own hands, I'd rather be killed by you here as an incompetent ruler. It's so much easier to understand. I can die."

Its white eyes, cloudy, shaking dim lights, yet straight through me everywhere. Vestalinu is also appealing to me with his gaze about what to do.

I don't think so. Shake your cheeks and leak your words as you flatter your shoulders.

"--At that time in that place, I was right not to kill him. Very well, then you can settle with your own hands"

Lift the Phyllos-Traite on your shoulders, even if it is broken from the chain commandments, still fluttering your body.

There was some shaking, but it would be the result of the pain covering the whole body. Nothing happened that would make her violent. Thank you. I'll carry them with me, knowing I can't. Then I want you to at least be quiet. Well, meditate on your eyes that the way you carry your stuff is while you carry it.

Turn your gaze to Vestalinu, say.

"I'm sorry, Vestalinu, we've got one package, but we keep going. Darker than ever, we'll go down a path without a single light. I'll do the water guide."

Taking my word for it, Vestalinu asked, with his eyes round, if he was insane. Excuse me. It's a bad thing. I said I was sane at all times.

Isn't that what you have to do? People have a way of settling their lives. As I did again, Philose-Trait is the one who can never move forward if he can't settle for himself. So, even if we don't say help, isn't it human nature to set the stage?

"Get off me, I don't care how far you insult me!

Though I stopped rambling, I turned to Philos-Trait, who was spreading over my shoulder, I said.

"There's no such thing as an insult, but rather a respect. The coffin named Philos is too small for you to die."

At the very least, I rippled my lips that it had to be big enough to swallow all of the Garrist kingdom.