Armed Summoners - Black Spears and the Brave Men of the Other World

On the riverside of the Longhi River lies a forest.

Maybe it's more right along the street than by the river. It was like the forest covering the southern part of the street was advancing to near the river, and it was not infrequently used by one tired of river play for sunshine.

The bright summer light makes the shadows of the forest deeper and darker. Sometimes by the river, the wind was always blowing through, escaping the heat and maybe it was just the right place to cool down.

In fact, there was not a small number of people spreading rugs on the ground in the shade of the trees and watching the children involved in river games while they were cool, showing a buzz never seen by the river or by the woods.

In such a hustle and bustle, it was a dark spot in the woods that Mirelbas-Ryburn caught his eye.

One man stands at a point away from the group. I couldn't help but think he was like a ghost.

The blue-white skin and shimmering eyes that rose even in the shadows showed that the man was more than just.

I'm guessing the man didn't even come to play in the water. Not to mention it wasn't the wind of guardians of children interested in river games, nor did I feel that someone had brought me here.

The tired clothes seemed to be all over the mud, and the lean, thin body seemed to eat very little. But the man saw the flow of the river as if he was not passing through his situation, and he saw this one.

Maybe I noticed Mirell Bus's gaze.

Mirrelbus was drawn to his sister and had come as far as the river. The river width is wide, and it can't be clearly seen what's happening on the riverbank.

Yet Mirelbus felt like he could even think of the creation of a man's face in the back of his brain. I'm sure it's your fault. It wasn't far enough to be seen so clearly.

A man looked at this one and I don't even know what look he gave, but maybe the man disappeared into the woods because he didn't care about Mirelbus' gaze.

"Brother?

"Oh, oh... it's nothing"

Looking down at his sister's unspeakable face, Mirell Bus was something of a heartbeat for no reason.

Lifting his lid, it was as if the chilling light of the Demonic Crystal lamp would pierce his sight. Close your eyes unexpectedly in sharp pain.

When he looked bitter in the darkness that had arisen again, he exhaled small.

He was dreaming.

Beautiful scenes to colour nostalgic days. The brilliant surface of the river is particularly blurry among his boyhood.

Contact with a handful of families emits only a few residual lights in faded daily memories. The routine at Heavenly Wheel Palace is so dull I can't even remember it.

I'm accidentally attacked by my grief, but I laugh bitterly remembering that this Dragon House is my home. I was born in the Dragon House, I grew up in the Dragon House, and I guess I will die in the Dragon House. As many of our lords have done, yes.

Even the earlier lord of the land, the infamous Marcias-Vridia, did. Only those born in the dragon palace in the heart of Zalwarn are qualified as the kingdoms.

It was believed that it was a code that had been laid down for a long time before the founding of the kingdom, and that it was something that would make Zalwarn if Zalwarn were.

The presence of the privileged class of the Painted Pendragon clan in the dragon palace may be due in large part to its cursed code.

Leaving the Dragon House, he endangered and feared that the magic might be solved.

So I guess the Pendragons tried to cling to an ancient paradise called the Dragon House and dominate a wide heaven and earth from a narrow world. Just as the predecessors of kingdoms were. And even more so, as those old lords did.

It was the historical kingdoms, the Pendragon clans, who had accumulated aerospace theories on their planes that might collapse and were overwhelmed by the situation in neighbouring countries.

It had a national territory one turn wider than its former neighbours and boasted a great deal of military power, so the awareness of a country called Zalwarn might have swelled and thought slowed down.

Eventually, even the nerves that were supposed to connect to the soldiers at the end were dull, and the guts were rotting and about to be necrotized.

This is what he saw in his youth when he broke without sound, with other HR-like faces. In the end, Mirelbus' thoughts may have also been the human-like rotten things of the Pendragon clan.

Until I reunited with him, yes. I just watched the country go corrupt up close and didn't try anything. There was no real harm, maybe there is.

Because the demons of Marcias' tyranny had not yet reached the Pendragon clan.

There was peace and tranquillity.

At least, in and around the Ryburn family.

When I opened my eyes, I never felt any pain this time. Probably because I'm somewhat used to the light of the magic crystal lamp pouring from over my head.

The large demonic crystal lamp, which jumps into view when you look up, is excessively decorated, as if to remind you that this is the center of the Dragon House, the capital of Zalwarn, and the center of power.

Demon crystal lamps are not the only luxury. The opulence opposite to the qualities of the Ryburn family was a manifestation of what had nothing to do with his intentions.

From the ceiling, to the walls, to the floor, were painfully decorated in his eyes, and he said that the room of the arrogant king deserved it.

Between the Temple of the Temple of Tai and the Heavenly Heavens of the Heavenly Wheel Palace of Longfu.

A huge building in the heart of the dragon palace, right in the middle of it. It can be called the heart of Zalwarn in every sense.

It was a place where only the Lord of Nations and what was allowed to the Lord of Nations could enter, and for many humans it was an area of sanctity.

He had his hips down on the throne and his elbows on his shoulders. The throne, adorned with many dragons gathered in flocks, was designed from scratch by Marcias, the earlier lord of the land, as it deserves to be the lord of Zalwarn.

Not only did he design it, but all the materials and so forth were chosen by Marcias, as if they symbolized the way he did it as a dictator. No one can talk to him. Nobody tries to flatter him.

He may have been the first absolute since the founding of Zalwarn, and his long-standing dictatorship carved deep wounds across Zalwarn.

I am not sitting on such a tyrant's bequeathed throne to confirm my position. Behind the horrible looks, sitting is not uncomfortable, but gives you just the right feeling to think alone. At the same time, it is a commandment that you should not be like him.

Most of all, he thinks.

If Mirelbus had wielded power like Marcias and made Zalwarn our thing, wouldn't this have happened? If neither politics nor the army could have ruled everything and, to the end, moved it as he wished, they would not have allowed Gandia to advance or otherwise.

I think so.

but I also know too well that it's not that simple. It dominates and manipulates everything you think it is, and it is known that in the brain of a single Mirel Bass, things can be considered.

It is also a foolish story, such as a man who is not even as familiar with the military takes command of war. You can leave the battle to the Cyrus. He is a god general and a dragon-eye army for that matter.

Sigh.

In those places, the results may not have changed.

It was on September 8th that the Gandhian army electrically attacked Nagrasia and quickly let it fall. Then it hasn't taken twenty days until we're approached by a five-way defense team.

What a marching speed.

Every time I think back, I have the face of being incredible, but I also know that's reality. That's why I feel desperate, too.

Will you be able to win?