A Wish to Grab Happiness

Black paints a circle and eats the sky. A flash wielded using the self-weight of the Great Sword was roaring with Richard's hand as an axis.

The old man makes the universe dance the black sword, which if he were a regular man, would just shake it and run out of breath. That is the fruit of what he has piled up and the very footprints of the past he has stepped through.

That's all there is to make martial arts, and over it Richard is here now.

The black sword left the line and devoured the hands and feet of the demon Drigman. The iron mass chooses the meat with a whimper, but none of this is shallow, and after several beating and slaughtering attempts are yet to be settled. And those wounds will continue to regenerate immediately.

Neither did the demon's appearance see what it was like to be in a hurry. I'm just distorting my eyebrows a little bit.

Perhaps this sword will not kill the monster. Richard halfway figured that out, too. In prey where the skill only chooses a piece of skin, it cannot be taken in hand with the life of a single deer. It's like opposing a giant with one hand. I can't kill scratching as much as I can.

But Richard was naturally among the hostile. Demonic tribe with skin that does not pass through metal, demonic nature that causes even iron to rot away on the warcraft that propagates madness.

All of which have killed this.

Richard is convinced. Giants, spirits, ghosts. And the demon man. There is no one who dies in this world. I will be sure to kill you. Isn't this guy in front of the fact that he was killed by Altius in the age of mythology?

- Then I can definitely kill this guy too. It has to be.

The blacksword tip swings to Drigman's right hand again. The demon returned his wrist softly and played the iron mass lightly. The result of a wiggle all over her body was only a few scratches on the demon's skin. That was all.

But that's all I need.

At the same time, Richard saw the demon's left hand looming at the edge of his gaze. If you take a step backwards, the floor slab will crumble and the stone fragments will splash next.

Both attacks were a repetition of this.

Richard avoids a crushing attack that crushes Drigman's iron stone with a piece of skin, waving a decisive beating. From the first glance, it was Richard who was attacking, but the words such as superiority in his place were not as if.

Even one would die of boredom on the spot if the reading came off. Richard did so many times in his chest, ready for the meat and bones to splash. First, there is still an overwhelming difference between the two.

That's not the difference between physical stubbornness or weapons, but endurance as an organism. Drigman will not hold his breath slightly, but Richard will not be far away from being forced to keep moving, and his physical limits will come.

That's why Drigman doesn't strike a hand in the oddly antagonistic situation he's in right now either. Because this is only for a moment now, and we know it will be over soon. That was exactly like human behavior hunting down featherworms. That's all there is to it, no human being can do all he can to make it happen.

Richard rattles his nose slightly as he searches for the smell. It hasn't been that long since I started waving my sword. Even so, he had dived through the dead line several times during the meantime.

What a nasty job. That would be good if I could buy the worst time, but I'd like to make it a little easier nonetheless. Richard remembered a dull pain around his belly that had not yet been fully healed.

A few times, the iron plays and the sword trident continues. It was also all a piece of paper, an extra dangerous offense. Splashes of meat and blood only slightly.

- That's how it came naturally.

After a moment, the mate's blood dances madly and defiles the throne room. The owner of the blood was not a demon. The only person here. Richard-Permilis'.

The black sword makes a distorted sound and falls zero. No, that wasn't all. At the same time as the Black Sword, Richard's right arm was flying. The blood and flesh bounce and fly, and the pain of burning the bone marrow pierces Richard's brain.

No, I'm just lucky I'm still doing that. If the brain looked directly at reality, it would taste the bitterness of hell.

Whatever, I wish I lived till then.

"Let's get this over with. It would not be capable of swallowing and rolling with dizziness noise. It's a certain aesthetic to die clean."

Drigman opens his hand and pokes at Richard. It was clear that there was no way to make it happen anymore. Those are the words that come out of the heart.

Losing one arm is not the same as just losing a weapon. The physical equilibrium breaks down and it becomes difficult to walk in earnest until you get used to it. This is the only story in a hero's story, such as picking up a sword and swinging it back now.

Losing arms on the battlefield, where everything ends in a flash of judgment, meant death. Both Drigman and that's how Richard understand it very well. So Richard didn't imitate like picking up a black sword again, he just told me to exhale.

"... how should I kill you? I thought about it a little bit."

Richard did not imitate the shards to move either. That's a human attitude that already embraced death. And I don't have the means to resist it anymore.

That's why Drigman was also listening to the final words. Although humans do not like to imitate their own words, Drigman has a degree of tolerance to the point of listening to the words of the brave. It was a rarity for a demon.

Besides, Drigman felt uncomfortable crawling down his throat.

Why is this human being so calm when he's dying? No matter what kind of person you are, before you die, you are frightened and confused. That's what I couldn't feel from this human being. Anyway, I cared about Drigman.

"You can't kill me, you can't do magic. It's mostly a deal to kill a squid bastard like that. Do you want to light it and burn it around? You can put it in a trap and let it destroy itself."

The old beard swayed and the wrinkles deepened to show a grin. I see white teeth in my cheeks.

Drigman's fingers jumped like he was paralyzed.

- It's poisonous.

Richard said, hardening his eyes. My vision is starting to blur slightly because of too much blood. It will be time to lose consciousness.

I put it in my mouth, but Richard doesn't know exactly how much poison I applied to my beloved sword makes sense. I've never invented a poison that works against demons before. Whatever it was, it was about the mythical world.

But Richard remembered Reu's words. I wonder if a demon named Drigman took away the human body.

I don't know how much it was repainted. But Richard had seen the demonization of human consciousness and body several times.

That kind of raw thing doesn't take everything away most of the time. You take some time, and if it's a long one, you rob your body on an annual basis. Until then, even if it became demonic, the human part that became still a vegetarian remains.

Then, if there is still only a small part of the human being left in this controlling demon. Poison should make sense. Richard didn't even hate poisoning his love sword because of that possibility.

That's why I stubbornly scratched it slightly. So that they may roam the blood.

Plus there's another batter. Oil and fire. At the end of Richard's nose, he was beginning to smell coal. It seems that the soldiers who were making them act differently have finally fulfilled their role.

A place called Royal Castle always holds large quantities of oil. Oil is a necessity of life, as well as munitions. In the unlikely event of a caged castle, it must be secured in conjunction with water.

So soon this place will be a sea of fire. I told the soldiers to give me all the oil. I don't need to add or subtract.

"There's no fire of sorcery, is there? Then how about an oil fire? I'm willing to try everything I can."

I'm sorry, but I'm not clean, you demon. When he heard Richard whine that way, Drigman narrowed his eyes. Emotions were beginning to emerge slightly in its appearance.

"Human beings are things that are really strong, no, stronger. But no matter what you scratch, you're gonna die here."

Drigman asked with his palm open. I was beginning to notice a slight paralysis at the tip of my hand.

Just be honest, I'm impressed. I thought humans were fierce, but I never thought they could be obsessed with killing others.

Richard opened his mouth effortlessly for much of his lost right arm.

"Humans, die at some point or another. Then you should use it when you need it. That would be worth your life."

The moment the words broke off and Drigman tried to hold hands.

The footsteps of the Spirit stepped between the thrones. At the same time, purple electricity broke out.