A Wish to Grab Happiness

The great white sword scrapes off the hollow as it roars loudly. His mouth widened wide as the jaw of the blade swallowed the demonic itself.

At the same time, a demonic arm is created as if responding to the blade, and the fist is wielded in a straight line.

As far as I can tell, that's just a fist fight. He had his fingers gripped, his shoulders stuck out and he was just let go. A blow that shouldn't have been any weirdness.

- But its speed and strength are not just human work.

The sound runs straight through the hollow. It sounded familiar to my ears, sounding like it was going to determine the space itself. Not very much, but I don't think it sounds like it can be created with fists sticking out.

The fist slaps the belly of the white blade with a haughty speed and distorts the orbit as it is. The tip of the sword, which was supposed to choke the heart, was bounced hard to the right.

As a result, White ended up only slightly tearing his demonic shoulder and seeping blood.

I see, the odd feeling I had earlier when I played his blow was that the blade was paid to my fist? Then it's natural that you're not used to it. I'd rather get used to it, or something like that.

No, fine. It's every day that Warcraft enters this side from outside common sense. If I was surprised as if I were a clown all the time, I wouldn't be very surprised, but I don't feel comfortable.

That's why I want you to go back to your original world.

The fist wears hollow as it seems to devour my skull intact, keeping its initial momentum. That's like a whisper after it's released. Crushing your opponent still stops.

The moment I saw my fist in front of me. I had a bright white instinct.

If you take this fist from the front, my skull will remain powdered and the blood will pollute the hollow like a surprise. In the blink of an eye, I could easily imagine that. From the tip of his heel, a concrete death crawls up.

Drive your ankles reflexively, keeping your hips, spine, and neck twisted at the same time. I could see part of my fist choosing the flesh on my cheek.

From his cheeks, blood blows out as he moves, licking the universe. He distanced himself with the white blade facing downwards and cut the fist in between. As always, there was no such thing as filling in time from over there.

Ring your teeth. He was narrowing his eyes unknowingly. The fist orbit I just saw, its muscles. What a nostalgia. A fist muscle I once saw. Floating beneath his lid is the figure of a fist-waving fighter in a Southern nation.

Rigid fistfights wielded by demonization are closer to you than what you see in Garrist. What kind of edge is it at all?

"You've come a long way from the South. Why don't you go home once in a while?"

The witchcraft that proudly adorned my head with two horns deepened my grin when I took my word for it.

The condition was really pleasant, like talking to a friend. Except for the clear intent to kill released from its eyes.

The demonic voice, it sounds.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. Look, there's some cause and effect, and it's come to zero north. In any time, there are people who stick out."

Cheerfully demonic everywhere with his shoulders flaunted. The words were so bright that I didn't know why, I couldn't feel the weight. But on the contrary, it exudes strange creeps from him.

At that rate, the demonization continued.

"I used to be a little to be told even here - ma'am. No one will remember now."

Demonization in the word raises the spell. There were signs of a slight change in the atmosphere of the enemy. Reflectively, I can focus on each finger holding the white blade.

White swords are much thicker blades than treasure swords and are unusual on their own. I have tried many times, but how far can I behave myself? How dare you, my lord hero, shake it as he thinks it is.

Leaking a good, deep exhalation with a sword in place, he sounded his whole body joints snarling. My breath is strangely rough.

Moments, demonic shadows swayed in front of me.

As if to miss a slight roughness, there is a noise that does not determine the sky. He ran through the universe as his fist left behind the tail of the shadow.

One, two, three blows. Tilt the white blade to pay for the impact of running through almost apnea. I still can't see my fist. Only sound and shadow are there.

What a terrible sight that is. Close to being extensively bathed with bows and arrows narrowed enough from close range. Besides, they don't have a gap to keep an eye on arrows, so they suck.

Speaking of bows and arrows, there's only one thing.

Although bows and arrows can survive if they hit well. This would be meat bouncing on the spot and bones crushing and scattering to death if it were hit in the face.

Really, it's a hassle. But still, the option of retreating is lost. If it is, there is only one thing to accomplish.

Small, inhale exhale. He put the line of shadows in his sight, slashed them, and weighed the intermission as he paid.

Not yet, no. Still, I can wait. The last three - two - so, one. His fist took my arms slightly. Blood, bouncing.

- That was the opportunity.

Stick your toes forward about half a step as you tilt yourself. He sniped for a moment when his fist would be back on hand, causing the white line to be drawn hollow.

The jaws of the Great Sword aim at the demonic neck, roaring and waving outrage. The sound of tearing the sky was pounding my ear.

How do the enemies come out? You won't be able to take it as it is in the flesh sooner. Even if we do interceptions, they are no longer ready to strike, a deadly blow is inevitable.

Then we have to avoid it. to either the front, left or right, or the back.

If you rush forward to avoid the blade, I will not choose its dovetail with the legs I left behind. If you run left or right, hold the second swing and snap your neck.

The sight was already visible to my eyes with a strange sense of reality. And I'm sure he looks like one.

So I'm sure he jumps back. I believed that. Take one more step forward with half a step leg, and take it.

Aim for the demonic neck muscle that jumped backwards and the blade stretches. There's nothing left to stop it. The demonic eye was well seen open.

- In a moment, an iron mass ate through the meat and skin, and there was a sound of blood spitting out.

Draw a half-circle and cut off the hollow while the white sword tip stains red. There was an unpleasant feeling twitching in my hand.

Says as he suppresses the pain in his limbs that he insists on barking in his body that way.

"I tore my neck off. Then I wanted you to show me how cute you are to die like that -"

"- I don't like it. This is why you couldn't get through, you stink. Even warcraft hurts, doesn't it?

Demonization says in a cloudy voice as he leaks enough blood from his neck muscles to his buddies. Blood muscles were crawling down the crossing.

No pursuit. I'm getting my attitude right enough already. No, maybe it was woven to get one neck slashed and torn.

Pay the white sword and jump the entangled blood. If I can't do it with my neck, I think I said heart or cranium next time. Unless you decide on a demon nucleus, a warcraft cannot die.

Then I'll have to kill him till he dies.

I say, to chew up the fatigue that clings to my whole body. I wanted time to get my exhale ready.

"It's like saying that if you were Vestalinu, you wouldn't have a problem."

The demonization of the two horns speaks, bathing the gushing blood on their own cheeks. Speaking cheerfully with blood dripping from his neck is just like that.

My lips, they move.

"Yeah, that's what I said. That lady would have no problem. My husband is a very sexually motivated man. I like it, for a human being."

Demonization speaks while paying blood for the crossing as if it was done on purpose. The iconic two corners were seeping out something like green light.

"So - that lady, and you, die here. It doesn't serve one purpose, it dies."

The demonic nature spoke as he spewed the demon's polar light out of his two corners and opened his eyes wide.