A Wish to Grab Happiness

A flash of violet electricity caused a thousand slices of muscle braided like iron to fly and a thick cervical spine to crack and scatter.

Body screams I've never heard before. Verg leaks a whimper into a slaughter he has never received and rolls down the street. I guess I shouldn't have moved, but there was just a reason I had to.

After a moment, violet electricity runs with the lightning to where my skull was until earlier. Verg looked at him as he spit so much blood out of his neck muscle.

In green, the swordsman of the Ferocious Minister. Undisputed, bow-drawer to the Lord Drigman. A person who makes that martial arts even feel signs of witchcraft.

Intuitive. It's him. He's the one who has to be killed here.

Verg understands his time of death. It is no longer long with this great wound, and it is no longer possible to escape this human being.

Will you be stabbed in the back miserably, or risk your life to kill this one? Verg chose the latter as a matter of course, and that's how he jumped. The horse's hoof rang loudly.

Compared to humans, we have to say huge bodies are used to crush enemies from the sky. Werg was good at martial arts. In fact, not many people imagine seeing a Verg giant jump.

Numerous adventurers and mercenaries turned themselves in front of this and were crushed. Swinging a rocking stone axe up his hips, Verg barks.

The wave is indisputably vicious and unmistakable on human and other teeth. It had the authority that would have destroyed only that if it had been a small human unit. How many of you are not prepared to die before this?

But the swordsman said so naturally.

Are you all right, Eldis?

Words danced through the universe. In a dead place dancing with blood and dirt, I see a beautiful beauty that doesn't resemble me. Verg heard the sound of his heart hissing.

"Whatever, my knight. I don't mind if I leave everything to you."

The moment that bea blinks. Verg's giant has fallen. The original laws of physics are twisted and sewn to the ground as if they had crashed on the spot.

The stone slab was crushed by the impact of the giant falling and lying, and Verg's thousand-chopped neck spit blood wildly.

Initially Verg did not know what had happened. I just know what they did.

Spirituality. Blessings and curses. Sometimes it is the same as nature, a mystery that makes it possible to create phantoms and make voices heard.

But what its essence speaks of is ruinous bondage. One of them is the method of tying oneself up with nature and making oneself homogeneous.

Blessings are meant to give freedom to the people instead of the gods giving them. Behind it is the curse.

Verg aches at the bottom of his back teeth. It is the spiritual art itself that binds itself to this earth now. Same as what his Lord Drigman deals with. Weren't there other barracks that used the same technique to bind themselves?

Pulled out. If anyone uses spirituality, it's understandable that both humans who were supposed to have been skewered by magic arrows earlier could have disappeared. That was the Phantom Army.

But why? Verg stays tied to the ground, getting used to his teeth and drooling abominably. Right next door, there were signs of demons.

"- Why, Da. Elves or fairies. Either way, Ka is not one of our countrymen. How can you give a human when you say you can no longer see the age of the devil"

It was an inquiry and at the same time a word of confusion. We wave our own hands off, while being the edge of the demon. It is an indisputable betrayal if you try it on Verg, and that is how only questions arise about it.

Whatever it was back in the day, there is no longer a mighty controller: the Great Demon, the Demon Man, why do we need to compete between demons? It could even have been such a sad word.

The queen of the elves spoke to Verg, who stopped even moving her fingertips.

"What are you waiting for when you take that hand? I wonder if the future of the great demon... I don't like it, but character is something that rolls down everywhere if you lose your mind."

I can see the air cramping like trembling and the voice is filled with excessive outrage. It was as if contempt itself had coagulated.

As in tune with his voice, the curse poured into Verg becomes turbulent and ravages his entire body. It was as if they were trying to pull through the crease of life.

"Don't lick it, Shiro. I will never break again, until I die, Finn-Eldis."

That said, Eldis grips his fist. The curse converged as it obeyed the queen's orders and burst Verg's immense heart.

The giant cramped for a moment, but soon stopped moving. It was only the appearance of a beast that was desperate, no matter how anyone saw it.

Once upon a time, the Warcraft, who had crushed a region and crushed brave men, stopped breathlessly. Someone no longer knows his name.

"... you could have asked me about my name. He looked familiar."

Erdis takes his hand and says, as he eats such a Rugis grunt. It was in this blood-smoking death place in an unpleasant, obstinate tone.

"As long as I remember the name of the Warcraft, I guess you have something more to remember."

Like the right way to treat me. [M] When Eldis said so naturally, Rugis responded with a groan of shoulders. It was a slight loosening time for the crest instructors and a legion of elves to take control of the enemy demon soldiers waiting in the left and right buildings.

Though we value speed, we must not abandon the demonization we know we are in a boulder. If it's in a raid from behind, if it's bad, it's devastating.

So I wouldn't say everything, but at least I had to take control of this place.

Rugis narrows her eyes as she holds her agitation to her chest. It's still far away, but I stared at the royal palace, which is no longer at the end of my sight. From where it was, a slight hand of fire had already started to blow up.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Palace of Kings. This place, which does not step in early unless it is also a high-ranking nobleman, has been trampled and vandalized by crude soldiers and demonic feet all day.

A black sword swings to cut off a luxurious candlestick. Moment after moment, the demonic blood blew up with the candlestick as funny, rocking the floor cloth.

Richard shakes his cheeks mocking himself that if he wants to buy it on the market, he'll have to send out gold coins. The floor cloth, and in this case, he'll probably wear a price tag. The floor was already filled with flesh pieces and blood, and that was how the demonic fluids of the specialty were applied.

"Go around to the trick for half of it. Follow me half the time."

While splitting the gesture in half, Richard grips the black sword hard and squeals his nose. A slightly unpleasant feeling was chewing on the inside of the skull.

This royal palace is the enemy's main castle, so to speak. It should have been a good place to call it a central base.

But for that, there's a lot less magic on defense. It is good to say that there is no collaboration between the few remaining students. Regardless, it can also be said to be the result of the success of the positive measures. And it works too well.

Something was alarming inside Richard's skull. It's not always good to say things go too well on a battlefield. Rather, it was much more of a omen of bad things in experience.

Are we now rolling down the ramp without knowing? I even have a feeling about that.

But Richard didn't have the option to leave until now. Withdrawal may be wise, but wisdom is foolish and backward-looking at all times.

There is no longer any other way forward. Because it is possible that this is a great opportunity.

The path within the royal palace had not changed surprisingly. As Richard once knew. The path to the throne remains unchanged. There must have been a whole lot of rhetoric about not breaking the great work of the former king.

I never met demoralism at last while I was on the throne. The sound of vigilance pounding with Richard's skull grows louder.

If the demon is rendezvous with the army outside abandoning the royal palace, it is still good. Then there is the extent to which it is interpreted. If they act in common sense, they can do more than just get inside.

But if he just stays here all by himself. They are the best opportunity and at the same time the worst.

A strong foothold between Richard and his men steps between the thrones. A dull noise echoed around me, and at the same time I heard voices.

Heavy and low, that's how a voice even has heat. Richard was choking his throat unknowingly.

"- I guess this is fate. God's voice and mine to fulfill my destiny"

And the worst death was there.