A Wish to Grab Happiness

Vision blinks. To the severe pain that pierced his whole body, his throat refluxed what he did not know was blood or gastric juice. The unpleasant feeling spreads across my tongue.

A blood-soaking demonic blood family that once was pierced and killed with a pile all over its body. Those called vampires must have felt this comfortable. It was now extinct.

Disgust that there is inherently an unlikely foreign object in the meat. The foreign body pressed the blood flow to a halt and let it reflux in bad faith. It also strikes the body with vivid pain. It feels like getting the wound wiped with a rough rag.

The disgust with which meat is determined, the sense of liberation that exhales blood, the severe pain in the limbs that makes you think your body has been cut a thousand times. They came together to remind me of one thing in my brain marrow.

Stuck, dead. Simple death. Loss of flesh. of consciousness . My instincts did feel that.

Oh, he said I was going to die here. Even for a moment I thought so.

Reflectively bite your lips hard. Abominable, repentant. I exhaled with a mixed scent of blood. My heart rang hot.

Who will die? This is me.

I shrugged in my chest, as I asked myself. Nature and cheeks were floating like a distorted grin.

It sounds stupid. Is it something that's going to die? You can't be dying.

I cage my strength again on the white blade that stopped on the way down. The bone pierced into his arm or something like a pile was screwed into the meat as he twisted.

No longer, I don't even know if my arms have feelings.

Still, it couldn't have stopped. I'm not saying this out of a stupid urge to do anything. These are sober words of reason.

He said, spitting blood out of his whole body, but still containing all the dignity and all the arrogance possible.

"... okay, Warcraft. Different actors."

I feel like I'm losing my voice. Apparently, there was blood in his mouth. Still keep the words going, without retaining them.

"If you want to kill me, bring me even Artius himself."

Think about it. Who can kill me? I suppose so. Not even that Helt-Stanley. You couldn't kill me by turning the blade over. I couldn't breathe in the Great Temple for any cause or effect.

- Then no one can kill me anymore. My ending has already been decided. That's what I wrote in the script.

Only focus on the left arm muscles and bite in with your back teeth tucked away. In front of me, I see a demonic skull with a double angle.

I understand. This bone pile would be one of this guy's magic tools. Otherwise, things would suddenly grow from floors and ceilings.

If so, this should be just invoking the devil with some sort of surgical formula. Then, naturally, you need to maintain the procedure in order to stake me out.

- I mean, this guy can't move now. Then it's easy to beat him to death. It's easier than catching a rat.

Shake the white blade with momentum again, letting your whole body tumble and feed your own bone pile into the meat.

There's nothing wrong with that. His skull is already in front of him. Keep shaking it up, shake the blade along gravity, and that's all you can do to smash the Warcraft's skull.

More than this happens, tear my limbs apart before they smash my skull, and the Warcraft triumphs. Other than that, it's my victory. Simple and wonderful.

No longer receive my black blood in full, the blade dullly rips open the sky while showing a very indescribable majesty of white. Some of the meat made a thousand cuts. There is certainly a feeling on hand that part of the demonic skull has been slashed. My cheeks are crooked.

Moments, a strong impact hits the abdomen. It wasn't a hostile attack, it was just a shock to bounce off the enemy.

But that's still enough blow. When I opened my eyes, my body was bouncing off the edge of the crossing. Unknowingly, the bone pile that was piercing my entire body was disappearing.

Fine. Apparently, he won compared to patience. I don't know. Both eyebrows rise and a grin comes up on my cheek. I did a lot of fooling, but I was a worthy fool.

Raise your face and see the magic of the two corners, see. He said with a clear aversion. Momentum to sigh out of the bottom of your chest, too.

"... I had a prediction. Yeah, yeah. Are you Ouffle's family? [M] The name is yes, Rugis."

It was a hostile word. A voice that is forcing you to suppress your emotions and still make you tremble with still overflowing emotions. From that forehead, blood has been spit out, indicating that part of the skull has been lost.

Shake your eyes. I have heard similar words several times. It's in the mercenary city of Belfein, and that's how it is in the Great Temple. It's from that obnoxious Altius and his mouth.

He borrowed Arueno's mouth and did say. Point at me, with the person Ouffle shook his hand with.

"Don't ask once in a while. I don't know. If I am, is there any inconvenience?

Ouffle. That should have been the name of the Supreme God of the Crest. I remember being asked many times that the Virgin Mattia would occasionally zero out of her mouth.

I don't know what kind of relationship he had with me, but there was only one thing I could think of.

It's just an abusive inquiry, but there's only one way I could have met someone who cheats on God.

- I'll give you a chance. Give me a chance to anoint everything and redraw a painting called Life!

That black, that shadow you can't take with your enemies or allies. It's him.

It's an indisputable fact that I held his hand. Maybe if you do that and call it a family member.

I don't know why he decided to hold my hand. If that's what you call Ouffle, then you know Altius and the demonic word.

The demonic nature of the two horns shakes his jaw and says as he tilts his little body forward. The eyes were full of genuine hostility.

"Boulder, it looks a lot like him I know. Those fierce eyes, they don't care about their lives. I thought Ouhul had taken it raw once."

It was found that extra power was being injected into the demonic body. The way of words is politeness itself. But he's just like me, and he's not gonna stop anymore.

Come on, think. Think. Don't stop your consciousness.

I did something stupid earlier. It's like a helt, daring a direct blow to the enemy, etc. It was worth it, but still a little too early for me.

If so, think about it. Thinking is my weapon, be it clever or not. I guess that's how I survived. No, luckily. Apparently, he drained his blood and calmed down to good health. It's just fashionable in the alley.

"So it remains Ouffle's idea to confront Altius? No, you're pathetic. It's just not like Ouffle there. He was stupid, but he wasn't like swallowing people's words as they were. Neither my words nor those of Altius were heard."

Squeeze your eyes as you waver your ears at the demonic words.

You can't get a bone pile pierced all over your body once now. The opponent is already on full alert. They won't let me have a swing from where I am.

Then I'll have to smack him in the head before I do. I've experienced that where I tore my neck, it doesn't make sense.

What are we going to do about it? What's best. Open your mouth and gently bend your ankles.

"Poor thing? Don't make me laugh, Warcraft. Whatever time it is, I'm the only one who appreciates my whole life. The pain of life, the pleasure, both of those wheels are turned by me. I won't do it with Ouffle."

Tilt white diagonally and stick forward. Thus a single line appeared in my eyes. As usual, it's like a treasure sword coming together.

Come on, let's try to kill him. I already have a plan. I can't really call it a measure, though it's a poor minister. Still enough for me.

Demonic said in an abominable tone, brilliant with thin green polar light on both corners and eyes.

"That's not my name."

A caged word of heat, likely to even spit out steam. There was an atmosphere in which the white beard emanated from its entire body.

"- The Demon-Eyed Doha Sura. I'm not so indolent as to kneel down to someone other than Altius."

That's what he - Doha Sura said as he stripped his nature as a demonic.