A Wish to Grab Happiness

Demons are attracted to stronger, purer demons. For them the density of the devil, and thus the height of purity, is a proof of the powerful. A testament to being great.

He releases his temper and ripens the demon, and with it he smites the inferior demon. A demonic species refers to it.

A demonic tribe created from a warcraft, fairy, or demon itself whose beast possesses a demon. Whatever their birth, their thoughts are the same.

- It is under the greater that great times come.

Therefore they say unto the LORD the great devil, the devil. Because I believe that's the way to happiness.

The way such ideas are, I'm sure, much purer in demonization than in humans. That's not a difference in intelligence, it's just an outing and maybe they're just being honest.

The controller Drigman lifts his finger in a relaxed manner, looking down at the kind of demonic warcraft he himself behaves like. Then I asked the nearest demon species for their mouth.

"How are you getting ready? If there is a shortage, don't hesitate to say it. There are things I don't understand."

With his lower body like a horse and the upper body of a rigid beast, the Demonic Verg responds to Drigman in a gentleman's language for a long time.

Its enormous body as it looked up was very unlikely to enter the human building, but it had managed to face it thanks to the beating down of all the ceilings.

"I can't say there's no shortage. First is the head count of the soldiers, Na. It takes time for people to give birth, and people can't fight like us. Prepare a spear made of iron with a sword, a helmet or a shield, or you'll get serious."

Werg responded that if that's how to take the trouble of making people serious, it would be better to enhance both the soldiers of the Demonic Warcraft.

Drigman was also completely in agreement on that point.

Naturally, among the Demonic Warcraft, there are both superiority and inferiority and power. Some are as wise as he beside them, others do not.

But compared to the most inferior of them, men are too weak.

They have no scales to protect their skin, nor claw fangs to sharpen their enemies. The more you try to be a drigman, the more you blink, the more vulnerable you are to perish. I just thought it was defective as an organism.

Whatever it takes to give birth to a soldier, he's an extra troublesome creature to use as a soldier. Whatever you think, it would be the only way to live as a livestock.

But. Drigman's iconic eyes move big.

Yet - once we were defeated by that fragile organism. He gave over the hegemony of the earth, and took away its glory. Never forget that.

On top of that, let's correct the error. Drigman gently bends his fingers. The trick seemed to bite something off.

Verg said while raising his army's problems in pale terms, it still doesn't mean he can't fight. That's what I said.

Drigman nods, says.

"Speaking of which, Verg. How much time have you had? [M] Do you know what time it was... that's not a good way to ask. Have you ever seen me face to face before?"

Drigman seemed serious, so he picked a controlling word and said. Not that I liked those words, but Drigman knew those who stood up needed the right words.

"No, I haven't seen you, Lord Controller. I've earned my life a hundred years after the end of the mysterious era."

Well, Drigman worked out the words for a moment in response to Verg's words. The surrounding warcraft and demons waited with strange tension for the demonic words they followed.

Drigman's mouth opens. That cheek is pulling funny somewhere.

"Then let me say one thing. It's been a long time since we lost it. It's not strange that there's something in this that's wrong."

Drigman carries on the words, even laughing. The Warcraft made his fangs blur. I wonder what the hell will be told.

"Okay. We are not going to invade or rob more than this. You just have to let such barbarism be a race. We're just returning for granted. That's what we call the King's Road."

Even so. We are not as barbaric as race. I am not a crude being. I do not behave in a barbaric manner that confronts my enemies only with hatred.

Let us therefore trample them with love. Break your skull with tears. Let us have mercy in our hearts and wash away that filthy civilization.

There was one certainty in Drigman's chest. It was a mistake once to loosen civilization and wisdom to a species called man.

Because there was such a thing as civilization, people became pregnant with all kinds of chaos, and they remembered to fight like that. At last, he also stuck a blade at his master's demonization.

It was the worst tragedy ever. Drigman understands. They don't need things like civilization or wisdom.

Then let's make it all go away.

Let's make them lose their letters first. Next, let's destroy the concept of tools and build up wisdom.

And that which is wise shall be abolished unto his son. Leave the good fool and keep leaving the seed behind. Until all men, royal saints, are corrupted, and even the word wisdom is lost from them.

They are indisputable love. love to rare their happiness. What can we gain against ourselves? What are you happy about?

Only following the mighty demonization is the happiness of this world. The seed of man doesn't even understand pity.

"Let's love them. That's how I feel sorry for you. For that - let's ask. There's no more water than a cup."

I can't let anyone take me back. With that said, Drigman's big eyes visible from between his hair.

There is only one tip that those eyes point to. A throne that was once the heart of the world and was our property. Glory itself taken away by the savage.

Archet, King's Capital of Garrist. Cities with the greatest prosperity on the continent. Towards it, the roar of the Demonic Warcraft rang.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

The pain runs like piercing the back of my head. The blunt pain seemed to stick inside the skull as it was. My heart was pulsing strangely hot. His vision remains blurred.

Was it bad that I poured too much booze last night for a long time? I didn't force myself to swallow it because it was my favorite honey wine. An act that defies nature is what destroys the human body as it is.

When you manage to open your heavy eyelids, the sky still remains dark. It will take a little patience already to get whitened.

No, I can't stop my chest fever. You drank water yesterday. I thought at least I chewed a cigarette and did my hand to my chest.

My fingertips scream like burnt. I shook my arms up in a daze. Something hit my fingertips. It had heat.

Stiffen your eyes. The skull, covered in drowsiness and carelessness, was strangely clear before I knew it. My cheeks are crooked.

- A two-piece ring. I broke it off with a treasure sword, and it's feverish as it wills.

I don't know what they point to. But it seems very unlikely to be a sign of happiness.

I had a bad feeling. I have a very, very bad feeling about it. Heavy spit crawls down my throat. What should I do, slap it with a treasure sword again?

When I was even beginning to think about it, the door snapped and rang. The voice of the less familiar. It was understandable from that pronunciation that he might be an elf.

- Master Rugis. Sorry about the good night. Master Eldis is here for you. With the immediate requirements.

Nodding, he grips the treasure sword on his pillow. The treasure sword was also strangely feverish.

I had a very, very bad feeling about it.