A Wish to Grab Happiness

"But... magician! We have never disobeyed our lord or sinned! How could that be an execution?

The head of the village, many of whose heads have become white, says with a crouched voice. It's probably been a long time since I've spoken so loudly.

Anyway, if there was ever a loud voice in this village, it was enough to scold a somewhat unscrupulous child.

It was so peaceful, and there was no havoc. There are only cautious days of living with livestock. One of those many Volvato morning villages.

For that old man, the sorcerer speaks briefly.

"The weak don't deserve to live… yes, there is no other way than what the devil said. No one can turn against you anymore."

It was a quiet word. Behavior that I am no longer used to these kinds of exchanges. Now that the executions in successive villages are no longer sanctioned by a state called the Volvato, there is no one who can stop it.

Because it's not evil more than power affirms.

"Don't take it badly, Elder. It was decided. There's no place for the powerless anymore."

As soon as the magician leaked, the burnt smell poked the old man's nostrils. Smells like nothing I've ever smelled. Nasty, nasty hunches stick to old brains.

"... no, ahhh!?

Burning villages. Boiling green smoke in an untouched scream. The cowhorse escapes from the livestock shed and the sound of his hooves stirs up the noise even further. The old man looked clear through the window.

"Fool, dude... this, this is a magician... why, why!?

Even the old man's weakened eyes can understand that things have begun.

Until I saw that fact, I didn't think what the sorcerer said was true to the old man. I wanted to think so, even if it was a joke of a bad nature without a reason for analogy.

But the sorcerer smiles at the old man with his gaze.

"- It was decided. Nothing more."

Green smoke covers the village itself, indicating that there is no escape. Wherever you go, the fire or smoke drinks you to death. Death could be felt in all of sight, smell, and hearing.

The magicians and soldiers of Volvato keep an eye on it to the end. Some of its soldiers were warcraft and demons, indicating no longer how much demonization was entering a country called Volvato.

Good. I don't know how many magicians I can say. Are they really still people who continue to kill the villagers in order to be loyal to the devils? No one answers that question anywhere.

"How about that? Wonderful work."

The sorcerer spoke to the witchcraft beside him, so much more intimate than talking to the old man.

And the warcraft in the face of the bird, which shall be the involvement of the devil, answered with his heel and his mouth rattling. My mouth is crooked like a smile.

"Don't you think it's good? My boss hates weak guys, so yo."

Close to the devil. If he is like this, there will be no error. The magician lightened his shoulders as he stroked his chest down.

Dislike the smell on your nose, blunt your eyes like lead and keep seeing the sight. The same sight as usual. The screams that kept blowing also sank into the basement sooner or later, and only the black-burned corpse remains there without being buried.

The small village nearby was roughly burned to the ground. It may be time to burn down a massive village. A demon would also say that just baking lacks taste. If you don't think of anything at all.

When the sorcerer started to think so. Every sight is slightly distorted. Tits and the burning noise of the fire flashed.

- A demon bullet that involves the wind and storms runs. It swallowed the fire and swallowed down the burning trees.

Next, the thunderbolts echo around us, destroying most of the houses and trees on fire one after the other, just like the demon bullets. Each time, the fire showed a little bit of a fit.

Clear exercise of witchcraft. Only a sorcerer can do such a massive thing.

But there should no longer have been anyone in this nation who exercised sorcery to save the villages. Sorcerers and soldiers breathe, the demons brightened their eyes.

My voice sounds.

"Heind. Isn't your savage magic sometimes helpful too? How about being transferred to the fire department?"

"- Unplug it, Eileen. It only helps your battle. I'm better than magic."

Two magicians were in extinguishing flames. If you're a Volvato morning person, you can't even be confused.

Glorious Volvato army created only by the talented, its deputy. Those who are truly called magicians.

In the midst of scattered flames and green smoke, Eileen sounded and said.

"Oh. Are you guys? The sorcerers and the bandits who are burning our villages."

The voice seems clear and full of emotion. A voice I'm used to looking down on people wonderfully. Eileen goes on to say the words, trying not to break down as usual.

"Seeking honor and glory and wanting power is the magician's instinct. I'm not going to deny that. But I don't know if I'm going to kill the people I need to protect for that. - Shame on you, thieves."

From behind, many more Magic Vets show up with Magic Armored soldiers. Eileen's infectious witchcraft covers the surrounding area, and at the same time, a huge thunderbolt strikes.

A magic mechanism with both arms on a large body. One symbol in Volvato. Magic General Mastigious-la-Borgograd.

"Save the villagers first. Don't make useless sacrifices. Tell the disobedient what it means to be a sorcerer!

The symptoms were momentary. Different numbers and degrees of practice from the beginning. Somewhere somewhat demonic, it's not something you can resist. The generals who follow Mastigious are indisputably elite, and the only magicians left in the nation are the soldiers of the town guard.

Now the magicians screamed and broke down early. More than the ex. They are not for fighting. I was here to burn the village.

And just in case - Volvato, no. If you had made contact with the Mastigious army, you would have been ordered to make an immediate evacuation.

Because their masterminds understood that if they were to come, it would be here.

One smiles on a hill slightly further away than the village, looking at the wrecked sorcerer and soldiers. The lens of the glasses was reflecting light.

"I'm here, I'm still here. But unfortunately. Good intentions are monsters, if you can't keep them, you just die! I was smart for that, I guess!

Keel-Bazarov scolds and opens his mouth. It also seems to intoxicate oneself, and it seems to say so.

Behind him, large numbers of soldiers and demons line up. These are all the first things Keel has gotten since he left himself in bad faith.

Yeah, Keel thinks he didn't have anything until then. The title of magician is not as helpful as scraps. The days when the title is bruised and laughed at.

How can you put a pile in your heart and encourage people to study and labor? Without magic talent, magicians cannot be given credit.

Days of hard labor. I can't find my way to the right path, and I can only walk away from it sometimes.

Are you unhappy that you were born a magician? Or is it a sin not to have talent?

But even without everything, only the opportunity rolled into Keel's hands.

The manifestation of the great demon Vrilligant. The throne is tethered, and the army is half-baked. Neither the generals nor the round table magicians, who have been the culmination of the nation, can even defy their demonization.

For whoever disobeyed him could not disappear from city to city.

And the more time passed, the less disturbed he was. The magicians led the army out of the country while following the demons, and the magicians, who were the Lord, were slain or whispered.

"- I'm here now, being looked down on as a failure, and all I did was suffer! Watch this, General Magic. I will teach you that good intentions and deeds are just monsters that create tragedies!

In the end, I'll take everything. Holding his fist and roughing his breath, Keel told the soldiers to move forward.

The demonic kind roared loudly to reveal joy.