A Wish to Grab Happiness

Garou, Amalia, in front of the castle gate, an attack in the sky.

There was an eating among demons who cut each other's realms, their existence, their dignity.

A demon is a classical possession, and that is what makes it a symbol of power and proof of existence. Therefore, using the primitive as a spear for a demon to compete for its authority is tantamount to putting each other's existence on the balance.

Which has a stronger self and which is a higher being. Which is what the world deserves to survive.

That is what the war between Gem Ba-Agatos and Gear Labours was all about. They were just two people, showing the human race a true struggle.

Rabour lifted his eyelashes and stared at Agatos from the front. Agatos no longer has power. Wounded all over his body, its original immortality had no shadow to see.

Still, she won't collapse. I don't know why. The magic legs of Laboure could not penetrate Agatos, even though they lost the hotline and merely swayed the universe with its jewels.

A deadly blow ends in a daze of underdevelopment. A wave that crushes the nucleus of the demon is crushed with a single piece of paper. On the other hand, Agathos was still eating this neck and making it shine like a jewel.

Sooner or later this battle leans to the side of Laboure is decisive. Even so, Agatos won't even show you how to escape. It's like I don't know what that means. Totally unreasonable. I didn't understand all of Agatos' current situation in Labourg.

That said, it is not complete with Labours. Gem Agatos' reaccelerated blow is shooting through its flank. Silver guts were exposed from the flank, iron gear and slight flashes of light were thrown out.

It's not good to prolong in vain. You're going to need time to repair it, and you're going to need rest. Rabul heard a sound in his skull. Nature and lips move.

The information gathered had drawn one conclusion on the current situation of Agatos.

"Gem Ba-Agatos. Is that what happened? You did something unusual. I'll update your rating immediately."

When he saw Laboul, who sounded and pulled the demon leg once, Agatos opened his eyes for a moment to see what it was about. I have no idea why Rabul stops attacking or what the word means that way.

But at least Agatos didn't feel like losing to Rabul if it was a stage of words. Whatever misery you are right now.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I don't feel like I can win anymore. Although I'm still not willing to let you get away with it. I don't care how you scratch, you're already there."

Still, on the boulder, the mouth count was less than usual. I can tell very well from the side of Agatos' breath running out.

Rabul speaks things in the utmost flatness, not imprisoned by the words of Agatos. Picking up only the facts. That voice sounded terribly cold. Rabul turns to the universe as if it were a different direction from Agatos, and he squeezes his demon legs.

"The unique completion properties you possess are lost. You know how to live as a herd, not an individual. Modify tactics to break the pulse immediately."

Agatos opens his eyes. Apart from the truthfulness of what Rabul said, Agathos realized in a nutshell what it meant. At the same time, what might Rabour be trying to accomplish?

Drive the universe reflexively. The jewels were wrapped around his arms if he could not destroy Rabul's demonic legs themselves, and Agatos continued to accelerate.

For Agatos, there are only two people who are connected to him now. Dependent Reu, the magician who is thus supplying himself with magic and helping him regenerate himself.

Fialert-la-Borgograd. That's what Rabul tells you. Agatos' jaws burn with outrage.

"Gui, dear, uh-huh! Don't move! Here and now, you'll tear me apart!

"Isn't it finally like before? But I'm sorry about that. Immediate, rude."

Agatos' impending blow never even plundered Rabul's demonic legs. Prior to that, Rabul's demonic legs were accompanied by a loud noise that crushed the universe, bouncing through the sky at an auspicious speed. Just to stop the pulsation of the jewel, its roots.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

- What echoed in my ears was the sound of tearing through the universe and the sound of lightning piercing through the iron.

Rabul's demonic legs were unleashed by the momentum of the barista, not penetrating the magician.

But with the flash of thunderstorm, it slightly alters its orbit. Blood splashes jumped like funny and colored the Dead Snow Sky.

As a result, Rabul was unable to penetrate the target, just finished securing himself with both hands. Whose work this is is obvious.

Rabul knows only one magician who can react to his own flashes. Therefore, he opens his mouth at the same time as he pierces his demon leg on the ground.

"Why are you in my way? Magic General. Respond immediately."

The Magic General Mastigious-la-Borgograd had made blood as zero and corrupt as a waterfall from his entire left arm. The momentum is as if to squeeze a rag full of water. I knew at a glance that it was no longer useful.

That was the price I paid for foolishly beating my demon legs across. No, if that's all it took to defy the demon's blow, could it be twelve minutes?

Mastigious says as he loses a lot of blood and blues his face.

"She... is my daughter. I've never given my daughter her life so much as my pride."

Rabul turns to a magician with his gaze in his hand for a moment. Although the demonic legs are unconscious of the impact of wearing the sky, there was certainly something similar to Mastigious.

It's not modeling, it's its nature. For better or worse, an organism is something that is similar in nature to a parent. Because of this, Rabul knows that their primary purpose is to connect blood.

Because of that knowledge, Rabour showed for the first time a modest understanding of what Mastigious said.

"Let's understand, General Magic. But immediately, understand. I was willing to hurt this human being, but I'm not willing to kill him."

That's not false. Rabul is a false body. All she tells is the truth. Whether that's a good one or a bad one.

There was no time for the people around him to pinch the words, and Labur inherited them. Its amber eyes shine with Rin.

"Human beings who can connect the realm with demons to this point are precious. Because of the Lord's heart, let me take advantage."

Scratching is just to make sure. That's what he said pale, and now once Labur tried to wield his demonic legs, it was that moment.

My spine is licked by something. That's when Rabul learned to be scared. No, I don't know if that's fear. Because it was the first time Rabul himself felt anything like that.

I have felt more threatened than the main great demon Vrilligant, and I have intuited the end of destruction. But it was the first time I had ever been made to feel the fear of death.

Without any hesitation, they crawl purple electric lines on the neck muscles of Labur. Reflectively, Rabour avoided them.

It is not inherently worth avoiding for Labours, such as the iron sword that man wields. Because there is no such thing as a demon being able to scratch a human face.

In demons and humans, the realm is the heat of existence, but the position is different. It is the Great Demon, the Demon Man, who is never traumatized from those outside the realm.

But Rabul's pitiful intelligence judged this - a threat that could kill or injure itself.

The light of purple electricity travels several degrees and misses the neck of Labur and the eyeballs, their tips. If the devil's leg of Laboure on the other hand hadn't taken away the flesh, he made it appear deviant to flow.

It was no longer the business of man to make a good sword so comfortable when it came to the Great Sword. In fact, its contents are no longer about to leave humans.

Even so, for some reason, he continued to suppress the human shell. Extremely strange for Rabul.

"I don't understand. Why are you still human? There will be plenty of roads."

- Well, I was born human.

The man said, dressed in a green military uniform and carrying on his shoulders a willingness to kill against the demon. That is an anomaly in itself. Originally, humans have no intention of killing a disastrous demon.

At that point Laboul intuited. This man recognizes the scourge of demons as the object of his natural killing. This blasphemer, who even dismissively looks down on disaster as an area of his own killing.

This is it.

"Well, you're the one who killed the demon. You're an irrational creature."