A Wish to Grab Happiness

A black line runs through the sky. Next, the battle axe was eating through a man's jaw and skull with momentum that made its gravity impossible. In the damp, annoying air, the raw odor brains splash away.

But with just one crush, the battle axe didn't stop. The long pattern twirls and swings in circles, choosing the meat as the manipulator thinks. Blood's fun again. I'm freaking out.

Training grounds in the city of Philos. The place, where the active voices of the soldiers would have flown if they had been, and those who had thus flied anti-flags against the current ruler, Largud-Ann, had stomped noisily and soiled, was now filled with astonishing serenity.

The culprit is just one steel princess.

Only Vestalinu-Guerla sounds as he returns to iron armor and paints his blood all over it. The cold hue of iron made that voice sound extra cold.

"... I'm disappointed. My heart is cut off as cold as iron. I don't like to break a decision. I can't believe that... they just moved me around for these people"

Cut long eyes leak out a glimmer of light from inside the helmet. No one responded to the word. The surrounding crest instructors had reached the pinnacle of agitation, and the mercenaries admiring and obeying Vestalinu had often perceived their masters as grumpy. I don't really want to pinch my mouth anymore.

The training ground, thus wet in blood, was no longer like the sole stage of Vestalinu.

"So I guess there are still those who want to flip the flag and turn the blade. If you've been pushed by cowardice, that's fine, but that's not wise."

More than a dozen men still stood in front of Vestalinu with weapons such as spears and swords. Those are the rebels she had earlier been taken by a troop leader who tore her chin and brains out.

But there was no such thing as taking a step forward in front of Vestalinu's provocative voice.

Until a little while ago, the things that used to raise their voices were now paling their faces and causing their fingertips to tremble. I suppose it's finally the place where you have your weapon.

And they and they aroused courage for righteousness and wisdom that they believed, and put up their swords. That should be the undisputed truth.

But it is the great wall named Irrationality that gives in to righteousness and wisdom at all times. If we go beyond that, we can't possibly grasp the ideal or anything.

Vestalinu hangs a waving pattern on his shoulder with a battle axe. So he sounded his armor in a relaxing position, and stood before them.

From her usual, she behaved incredibly crude. There is no shadow to see the cold like iron at all times.

That's just zero out of her grump, frustration.

Because Vestalinu felt guilty in his chest.

- I'll be away while I go to Philos.

That is the mandate given to Vestalinu. But now I am here, breaking and forsaking the command. That's what makes you feel guilty and punctuate Vestalinu's heart. There's no way, even if I know there's nothing I can do about it.

That's why I want to make an early return. That's what the Commander said when he picked me up. At the same time Vestalinu raised the tip of the battle axe so as not to hide his frustration.

A voice sounded through the training ground, passing well.

"- Stop. I won't allow you to bleed any more, ever."

Nature, the ears and eyes of soldiers and mercenaries are drawn to the voice and turn a point.

Many knew whose voice it was. If she is of the crest, then no one knows her.

In a small but prestigious manner, Largued-Ann, the chief voice, steps into the training ground.

The figure was not an outfit reminiscent of a mild impression somewhere as usual, but a divine garment, an outfit as a crest man.

I don't see how Ann is sleeving through something that is only supposed to be used for rituals. But still, it only had the effect of silencing everyone on the spot for a moment. Bruder beside Ann and Vestalinu narrow their eyes.

Ann poked and moved her lips smoothly, opening her mouth. Of course the soldiers who flipped the anti-flag are now in a state of agitation.

"It's not a pull. I understand that you have something to say."

But listen, Ann keeps saying. That's how I asked. I wonder if such a way is really right.

Even though how different thoughts and words may be, it is the way of the crest believer to immediately lay his sword and try to pierce his opponent's pocket. Not words and intelligence, but appeals to martial arts, etc.

It should be different. It should be different. As long as we praise wisdom and reason and aim to run up the stairs to the supreme, it should be good to entrust everything to violence in that way.

Conflict is inevitable, and you should still be able to do as much as exchange words. Yes, Ann says in a clear voice. A shade that resonates well in the ears and entangles the brain.

Exactly that was Ann's way of perceiving talent. Getting to the details of your expression, your gesture, the tone of your voice. It is used to incline a person's mind. What is important in negotiating matters is to shake the other person's mind even for a moment.

It doesn't make you daunt like Rugis, it doesn't attract you like Mattia. Anne refuses to believe that it is not her specialty.

However, no one can beat a craftsman who merely stops a person. Ann told him, sometimes with a solemn voice.

"- As the Philos ruling agent, I will now head to my meeting with Lord Saleinio. You take the lead. No more crest followers, no more disagreements?

That was a rare, unforgivable word for Anne. But no one could defy it face to face.

Many here are faithful crests. It is difficult to be shielded from the doctrine of crest religion and to emit differences. Besides, there was no way I could shake my neck sideways because Vestalinu and the mercenaries were giving me a stare in force.

One of the rebels opens his mouth as if he had decided to. My eyes were shaking heavily.

"Dear Largudo, I just want to ask you one thing. Are you going to tell me that you can't punish our people?"

Ann said reflexively. My eyebrow roots tremble tingly.

"... Yep. Whatever. If all the talks with Lord Salenio go well, you won't have to."

A thin grin rises on Ann's cheek. I still let some harsh atmosphere seep out of me. That's not how she behaves at all.

But it also seemed to have had the effect of making people believe in each other. The rebels nodded and advanced to the lead to Ann.

Seeing that, Ann had one sight in her eyelid in mind. I didn't actually see it myself, I just heard it.

Did Rugis once arouse and enthusiastize slum dwellers with every word in the Gallu Amalia offensive, causing them to take thoughtful weapons in their hands and drive them to the battlefield?

What did he put on his chest then? Excited, intoxicated, or something else.

Until now, Ann thinks it must have felt the same way as she does now.

- It's delightful to use people for your own good where they get stuck, but they still have thorns in their minds.

No, because that guy is a good guy. Maybe he felt more guilty. If so, it's a laughingstock. Because sexual roots are much more poisonous than human beings called great evil.

Bruder slapped his ear at Ann with a deafening voice around him.

"Are you serious? I can't believe we're here for a peaceful discussion. with the doctrine of crest. No, I don't think so."

Ann laughed a little strangely. That's how I say it in a very small voice.

"Dear Bruder. Academics, doctrine - either way, it's the tool we use. I'm not who I serve."

That's how humans try to move for someone they serve. Yes, Ann went on to say the words.