A Wish to Grab Happiness

The Temple of the Great Temple. A thinly raised shadow in it shakes its contour to blur loosely.

At the same time, I sat down on the altar. That was the sign that I would stand up completely. It would be the result of the altar being prepared a few steps high. It even looks like we're moving through the sky.

Somewhere, slowly, the figure of a person was shaped. In Helt-Stanley's eyes, I can see him boiling even an atmosphere ripping through the darkness. There is no longer even a need to ask who.

Its notoriety is called the evil dragon that crushed the nation with its jaw, alongside the natural enemies of the human species. He who is a treacherous man, a treacherous man, a traitor and the Lord of wickedness.

The name must no longer be an indisputable abomination from a Catholic human being. A name that everyone can repel and say to their mouths.

When you have to call it that way, with all your malice, the name you are called, whilst boiling the hatred and fear that your guts are about to burn. What's his name?

- Rugis-Vrilligant. Virtue itself.

The appearance of being turned away from and abhorred by anyone of them was now emerging inside the Great Temple of Flimsrat. Before the golden eyes, there it is.

Hert opened his mouth, not mind his lips trembling a little.

"For a long time, you seemed to have been on a harsh journey. Fame is not good. I didn't think you'd like me anymore."

The blade sword, clenched with both hands, shakes as if it were gross. Helt couldn't stop his whole body from causing some kind of tremor.

That is by no means an emotion of fear or the like, an emotion that would be more of a different, true opposite of fear or the like.

What you say is true. I haven't even encountered a place where we can cross blades with each other since that Gallu Amalia fight. But in the meantime, he wore all things to himself.

Heroic honor in crest teaching. Terrible notoriety in the Catholic Church. They are nothing more than a compliment to him in all his praise. Rugis is now lodging it on both shoulders beyond the support of a regular person. It was like the atmosphere was different from when it used to be.

Its appearance in your eyes is also huge and intimidating everywhere compared to when you used to call yourself an adventurer in Galuamaria. Is it because of the behavior rather than because of what you look like?

But neither the desire to be contained in the atmosphere, nor the desire to be pressured anymore, fell into the helt.

The exhalation is hot, and that's how the golden eye opens wide. I found my cheeks slightly collapsed.

As she responded to Hert's grin, Rugis leaned down one step with the love sword at her waist. I still can't fully read the expression in the dim, but it even seemed to have a distorted grin there.

Rugis' teeth squeal loudly. As I opened my lips, I lined up the sound of something ridiculous like that.

"If we forget a hero named you, any elephant in this world will disappear from memory. All fame doesn't make sense in front of you."

He sounded like he was suppressing something. Is that suppressing something emotional or something more intolerable? Until then, Helt doesn't even know.

But I knew perfectly well that Rugis' rugged eyes, who even remembered its ferocity, were piercing themselves.

Well, to hear the behavior and words, apparently he was still his enemy. It's great. It's no joy. That's why I've had it before.

Later, then, as stipulated in the battlefield covenant, there is only one language. No, for both of us from the start, maybe we did. The white blade of the helt strokes the sky slightly.

Play with everything that's been exchanged right now. I couldn't stop the great river-like passion that dwelled in me from going wild, and I just gave it a splash.

Therefore, only its martial arts can no longer speak of things.

Another step, Rugis, unloaded himself. It is pulled out of the sheath as if the brilliance of purple electricity severs the space itself. As Hert also responded, he packed a step, a distance to the temple.

That's all, the space is so compressed that it's going to suffocate.

"I don't remember doing anything called that with a hero. I'm just Helt-Stanley. And so I stand before you."

That word, which has no decoration whatsoever, does not even show itself vanity or arrogance, can even be described as a pale night. But that was the very essence of the undisputed Helt-Stanley.

As a hero, as a celebrity, as a general. What good would it do in front of him to fulfill it? Anything can help. It was a man named Rugis who ate all of those titles and moved on.

If so, the title is just one good one.

Helt holds his own sword of love, breaks his half, and sets up. Exhale slipped down my throat and went.

"You and I will have to be enemies, Rugis-Vrilligant."

Helt said, trying to take the words that had fallen zero from Rugis's mouth one night. On its cheeks, a human being named Hert-Stanley is rare and even has an ironic atmosphere.

With that in mind, Rugis went one step further and opened his mouth as he glorified the purple electricity. I'm just piercing the gold with my eyes shining bright light. The distance between the two names is no longer close to an agreement.

"Much better. You're right, Helt-Stanley."

With a groan against Hert's words, Rugis also took off his big coat and put the treasure sword on him. Eyes reinforced the vicious atmosphere, and behind its mild tone, something more black was hidden from the edge of the word.

Still, is it my fault that I even sound like I'm having fun somewhere? Rugis' lips jumped.

"There is no difference between enemies. I'm an abandoned son of a bitch. You are noble and talented. I couldn't even wrap my fingers around your back without one."

That word that Rugis speaks is occasionally out of Helt's sight. Unchanged from the time of Gallu Amalia, he spoke as if he were friends with the ancient knowledge, and behaved as such.

But I don't feel bad about that. Yeah, rather, it seems as if that's the truth. I felt like putting a sword with him here was never a mistake.

In front of me, there were signs that Rugis was stronger, and that's how he became more vibrant. So much so that both swords are about to tear the sky apart, they are sharpened.

"But now, the days of sunshine are no longer over, and that's how the night drops the book for me. Don't worry, Helt-Stanley. You can't go home alive today."

It seemed like it was all settled. The moment Rugis finishes his words, white and violet electricity mesh through thin darkness. Neither first, neither later.

Just, just. They waved their swords at the same time, as if they had waited for each other for this time.

No one else's voice is in the ears of both names anymore.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Confrontation between childhood tame Rugis and Helt-Stanley, who wants to escort him. To the sight unfolding in front of him, Arueno rang his throat as he even fought his golden eyes. There was definitely a feeling that my fingertips cooled to freeze and then became even colder.

From the side, it would have looked like a girl trembling in awe, in an overwhelming exchange of warfare. At least to the diocesan knights who lay up their shields to protect Arueno, it seemed so.

But what is in Arueno's chest is as if it were different, as if it were different.

The golden eyes flashed as they burned up the twilight.

- Oh, I knew it. It's not very hostile or resentful.

Arueno felt that certainty had turned into fact, and her eyes had become so thin.

There's only one thing floating around in that chest. Just the sentiment that I don't care.

Helt-Stanley, what he's floating against Rugis is probably like floating against a favorite enemy or a friend. It's called dear. That's a sword hanging together. I can even see it now.

As such, the thought is strong everywhere, and so pure. I'm sure he's involved in being a sincere person somewhere.

pioneering. To the way Helt-Stanley is, not Rugis, a childhood friend, has already responded to that sentiment. I found something in my heart that made my gut itself cold.

That's how the next thing that came to mind at the bottom of Arueno's chest wasn't emotions like jealousy or envy.

Just one thing. That's all I was thinking about how I should strip it of what's around Rugis right now. The golden eyes are no longer even brilliant beyond human intelligence.

Because there's only one hand he needs to take. Only one hand around you is good.

The way Helt-Stanley is. Whatever form that may take, accepting him must be an act of reaching out. That just doesn't seem acceptable to Arueno at all.

Signs of demonization gather in the eyes, around them. As if to honor the gold of Arueno, as if to fear and revere his presence, the air of the temple shook up. Arueno's voice falls zero out of his mouth with a surgical ceremony, moments.

- That's right, you're not being easy on me, are you?

It was such a fold that the voice heard in Arueno's ear somewhere. A black eye, arguably bright, was at the edge of his vision.