A Wish to Grab Happiness

That must be a stupid woman.

Roseau thought, feeling slightly muddy at his own fingertips, as he tried to throw out his heavy body. I can see the heat that was letting me live in it slowly losing its appearance.

Everywhere I am foolish, I carry in what I don't have to carry, and I scratch my feet desperately trying to grab something with that little body.

The role of the ruler and the strong autonomy of the righteous will not detract from her anywhere. I have to say that its paradoxical likelihood of sometimes not being thorough with it and tied to the small emotions of sympathy, sadness, etc., is foolish.

Such a distorted nature somewhere. No matter how far a woman named Philose-Trait goes, she can't run away from herself like that.

But since she was such a girl, Roseau was in a hurry because she was such a Philose-Trait. To be right, hence some distorted woman. Maybe correctness is a distortion at any given time.

"What do you want me to do, Roseau, I'll give you one chance. You can make it easier for me, Philose-Trait can bring you to justice. It's your call, you put it on."

Overhead, I heard my resentful enemies whine. It was a pale voice, but it wasn't like insulting the other person, it just threw it at me, it. Whatever you think, it's not about the passion you hang on the demon opponent.

I think. Again, this guy named Rugis, he's not serious anywhere. He exchanged blades with himself, who had become demonic here because he was not serious, and thus won.

Yes, he's a winner. Roseau's cheeks, they shake.

"It's my end, I'll put it on myself. That's what it is. Besides, you don't have time to hang out with little people like me."

I felt the heat start scorching my own body. This odd feeling of the body burning out, which is no longer even assimilated to the flames, and thus attributed to the ashes. From my fingertips, my presence is starting to collapse little by little. Just like that, you can disappear.

It would be natural. At any rate, my original book has collapsed. The demonization of stopping people and also losing their proof of existence in that way just has to leave the world. The fever painted with hatred is destined to wither at the end.

To Philose-Trait, turn your gaze. Shivering his limbs like a baby, he was seen approaching this way. He seemed to be shouting something out loud, but his ears don't pick up that sound very well. At least for the last time, I wanted to hear her voice. The voice of the woman she burned.

In the end, I couldn't hate her from start to finish ridiculously. I wonder why. We should have been hostile many times, exchanged words, and even cursed at times.

Roseau breaks his cheek. I'm sure it's been since then. I fell in love with her on patrol at that time when I was still in my lowest position, and that's how I was called out, since then.

Words, go on. My cheeks were rippling naturally.

"We are letting the nearby Warcraft Nest be poked by escorts and adventurers. Dead Snow Warcraft are fierce, they will soon strike the city of Philos and your army. Come on, there's got to be one now."

Slightly increasing his gaze, Roseau seemed to have slightly narrowed Rugis' eyes. I don't know what kind of emotion those eyes have. But whatever it is, it won't be a good emotion.

You fool, I am your enemy. [M] That should be all for sure. I've exposed you to this kind of misery, so at least let me be your enemy from the beginning to the end of it. That's the only way I can go dead.

My knee turned to ash and my limbs collapsed. I guess I won't even have a voice soon. Strange, the moonlight dazzles my eyes.

- Huh!

That, last. I thought I heard Phyllos-Treit. It's like crying, a sad voice. Anyway, that's not a bad thing.

Open your lips. I can't see my eyes anymore.

"Rugis. It's a thick wish at the end. To Philose-Trait, thank you. And so..."

I couldn't see anything anymore, but somewhere there were signs that he would snort, I can tell. Then there's nothing more to talk about. I've spent my whole life here. I have nothing to regret. Being sophisticated is foolish. Yes, small. That's too big for me, stupid.

Oh, if you wish.

"- If you wish, Rugis. I still believed in justice with you. I wanted to meet you back then. You could have been a good friend. - Bye, hero."

Leaving only that, Roseau's body, and so his soul, disappeared into ashes. At times the ashes were swept away by the wind, and so scattered throughout the world.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

At the residence of the Fomor family in the Kingdom of Garrist, the present lord Roimets-Fomor followed the letter of the report, slightly inclined to its gigantic body. After a while, I give you a face with my eyes crooked.

After that, I whined without telling anyone.

"Have you left? That spicy thing."

I lost, I didn't dare use the word. For Richard-Permilis, the spicy brave, true defeat would be only when his body died.

But still, it is certain that he was taken a few steps back by the crest religion.

The Roymets lead to chairs that become much smaller when compared to their own bodies, causing their eyes to sway. He seemed to be trying to sort out the emotions that should come to his mind.

To be honest, this reward is a huge shock to the Roymets. I never even thought about it, like Richard being forced to retreat. That's not so much optimism as unwavering trust in Richard, who lives inside the Roy Mets.

When I was just a young man, I also remember the Roymettes going to battlefield as the next Fomor family owner. Having said that, I was certainly not allowed to be on the front line, but I did see the scene where my life was still being sold cheaply nearby.

Yes, I was on that battlefield. Richard, who was still decorating his chest with the two names of the brave, and walking in the sun, too. I still remember the emotions I had in my chest that day when I met him.

Right. A brave man refers to someone like this?

If you wave the great sword, the enemy army will tear, and if you raise your voice, all armies will respond. Retreating is foolish, and you don't even know to stop. Exactly what you deserve to call thunder. I couldn't even imagine how he would defeat.

Time has passed, and Richard is certainly old. Like myself, it can no longer be said to be the height of the season. Still, that one is a strong man. I can't even think about taking the back hand.

If you were therefore forced to retreat, Richard would not be weak. They are the same strong men as the crests.

A thick finger strokes his nose tip. That was the habit of the Roymets when they thought. Now what's the matter, the giant body leans.

An army bearing the cathedral's name is defeated, which is not a big problem in itself. Rather, you can welcome it.

Anyway, the church folks have been pushing that width too far these days. If you're just going to grow up a little, it's hard to fall back once or twice. The religion in question is an instrument of governance, it is not funny that the instrument makes too much self-assertion. Something good if you speak only of doctrine in a big way.

But it's also a problem that tools don't act as tools. The Cathedral teachings are, above all, user-friendly for the rulers.

- Surely the Virgin is still in the middle of a pilgrimage?

I took a pen made of eagle feathers by my big hand. There's just one more thing about history, and I'm trying to make a flaw in it.