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

His morning, it's late.

Extremely slow. Speaking of how late it is, the sun is rising and everyone is still diving into the futon when they start getting to work in the morning. When he opens his eyes and is about to wake up in danger, he tries to scold himself, closes his eyelids, and falls asleep again. Sleep is never deep, and tiredness is unlikely to take it off. This is why, by obstinacy, we try to make sleep strong, to erase fatigue, but fatigue and tiredness, which eroded the whole body, enveloped his consciousness as if he were a born business, and did not try to leave.

Whenever he thinks that, it's like a shadow, he just ironically distorts his mouth.

It's not a lot of life anyway.

In the weight of the desperate to lean in like a shadow, we may have to escape the morning sun and live. That's not bad either. Not good, not like, but never bad.

(Doesn't matter)

He thought from the bottom of his heart that day, in the midst of several turns.

(Doesn't matter...)

Anything, I didn't care.

The beloved, the careless belly, the men, and the beings who came to deposit their lives - all I could think of was that nothing mattered now that I had lost everything that was the home of those hearts. I have no interest in any things, and my mind is not shaken. Emotions are necrotic and mental status continues to update worst. As it is, your mind rots, your body erodes, and you can go to death. doom, and I just chanted it like a curse, and the flesh is hateful because it is health itself, and the three greatest desires cannot disappear and be lost.

Appetite, sleep appetite is still good.

He couldn't help but figure out that another desire was alive.

I guess that's what creatures are called human beings, and I give up, but at the same time I'm sorry.

The only person he ever loved in this world was dead.

No, I was going to throw my life away with her, so the very fact that she dies is not an issue. Death was the main hope. I believed that by dying, I could finally earn my true self esteem.

It was like a dead man's life.

It was a shadowy life wandering in search of only the place of death, without losing the purpose of living and finding new goals and such.

When he therefore found a place to die, he was ecstatic deep in his heart. The dear one seemed to want him to live, but he saw that he was happy and nothing was said. Instead, it seemed like he was going to die with me. That would be proof that our minds were coming together. We recognized each other, loved each other, forgiven each other.

Different values were also recognized.

That's why his only true self esteem of dying on the battlefield also showed her understanding and chose the path to die with.

A strong woman. There was as much way to live as there was. She is also beautiful. There shouldn't have been enough creation to grab a rich man. The amount of equipment is good. It would have been as easy as laying a man who could have grabbed him that way on his ass.

But she chose to die with him.

So, I guess.

He was not afraid of death.

It's also relevant that you didn't die when you were supposed to.

But at the end of the day, he didn't die. She survived, too. We both lived, exposed ourselves to shame, and chose a path to live in support of each other. For to him, the Lord of the two eyes appeared.

I met a man who deserved to give his sword and his life.

It was such an event as to resuscitate him as had been accomplished by the deceased.

Even though a miracle happened, it was not an exaggeration.

Such a feeling, like finding a midsummer sun in the middle of a freezing ice field.

That's why he was able to choose the disgraceful path of staying alive, and to indulge in his days with his beloved one or his careless belly in the realities of being alive. I guess I was happy. Everything was a life of happiness.

It is then that he seems to spit as he gazes at the wood on the ceiling. Then why didn't you die then? Why, in that last showdown, no one and no one else could come to an end in the struggle that burned their lives and kept fighting until their souls ran out. How can you live, losing your men, losing your belly, losing your beloved one as well?

This is nothing but shame.

He thinks so, but he also gives up on whether he has to live more than he lives until he encounters the next place of death.

Lived, made a debt.

One meal at a time.

Within paying back my debts, my feelings arose.

Love, clumsiness, binds the way of life.

Apparently, a human being is a creature like that, with himself.

It's my bad habit to honestly follow that kind of smugness to the point of dying. That's how many times I've missed a place of death. I'm losing sight of the time to die. That's why it's a ghost. A ghost who wandered the world in search of a place to die.

(That's me)

He stopped, trying to hit the turnaround again. Wake up your torso, spare yourself a comfortable upper bunk and goodbye, and leave. The sun's rays are plugging in through windows that are not even booked. It's too expensive for the morning sun. It won't be exactly midday, but there's no way to gauge time in this room without a clock. I don't put my watch down because I don't want to be tied to time. And in his new place it was allowed.

He is acquiesced in behaving freely.

His standing, after all, was always special. Is it fate at birth to fit into a position where special provisions have been granted, or what? I know it happens to be a coincidence, but I'm lucky I did. Always, yes. I could do what I wanted. I am not dissatisfied in that regard.

The only grievance is about the helpless fate of losing sight of the hour of death at the place of death.

If you wear clothes, carry a sword, and leave a room that is too large for one, there is an air-wrapped hall where, as usual, there is enough to be too cheerful, where all his beholden faces are tucked in. Most of them are tough men. All the rough guys who seem to be able to lead something called a normal life are masterful with their faces together. When I realize he's come out of the room, I laugh inside because it's something that instantly corrects my residence and deeply lowers my head. When he finishes his greeting by simply raising his hand to Eagle Deep, he asks with only his eyes. Of the desolate, the smallest man rushed over.

"If it's your head, wait in the back, sir."

"That's rare, huh?

"Heh. I'm glad I can spare some time because of my husband. The ones who mourn"

The attitude of heckling reminded me of the first time I was with him. A strange tattooed little man on his shaved head, his essence was glanced at where his fallen, indented eyes glistened. Though I am always humble against him, I am never without strength. In fact, this little guy is also an executive of this organization. Neither do the rogue savages, in fact, rival this little man at all. But when they and this little guy are talking face-to-face, the trouble is that the little guy really just looks stuffed. Dorn-Fong. A name that sounds similar to a man who was an unexpected pattern to him makes him feel strange and intimate.

He looked at the door leading to the back room of the hall as he watched Dorn return to the rough guys. In front of a large, double-open door, there is one man with muscular bones, sitting like the weight of a door. The scar seems to have crushed my right eye when I was in charge of the rough. He is one of the executives and is now entrusted with the head guard. Did you say Gallon-Daggs?

As he approached, Gallon stood silently as usual, paving the way. Although Gallon is oligarchy and doesn't know what he's thinking, like Dorn, he has enough intelligence to argue his position. Otherwise, we would not be able to survive in such an organization.

When he greeted the gallon with only his gaze, the gallon had just been quietly nodding. The usual. I don't even care. That's also a sign that Gallon admits to him.

Open the door to the back and you'll go out into a slightly longer aisle. Unlike the cheerful but manly hall, the aisle was decorated with a narrow variety of lustrous ornaments, and incense burned everywhere. Looks like it's for getting rid of the man smell on the other side from the hall. But the smell of a backward incense is still unfamiliar, so he passes through the aisle early enough. As long as you pass through the aisle, you will be free from the hell of incense.

At the end of the aisle, naturally, there are doors and they are tightly closed. Doors that even executives could not easily open were, however, allowed to open and close freely. I don't even need to knock on the door. That's because if there's anything that opens the door on its own, you'll know he's here, said the head. Even with him, he even thanked the head of staff for his hassle-free suggestions.

Open the door and close it immediately as you enter. When the smell of incense fills this room, it's no match. Because of this, I succeeded in escaping from incense hell.

"Lazen!"

When I thought I heard a similar call to the woman's whisper, I heard a noise from the back. I guess I lifted my hips off the throne of my head. The room was dim, the thin silk book was dripping multiple times, and I had no idea what was going on in the back from near the entrance and exit. But I knew the woman would come this way with joy and courage.

The woman is in love with him. That's why he's the only one who gets special treatment. And those who are unhappy about it, they are not in the organization. Being dissatisfied is an act of treason to the head itself, and anything that would be rebellious about that extent would be leaving the organization for much longer.

Until his arrival, the organization seemed to be in a state of devastation.

It was a good woman who wanted to appear like a wind that could push multiple books out of the back of the room. Never young, but when I saw that I was not making young, but maintaining my beauty, I thought it would be a good idea to be born, and, in fact, it doesn't seem unlikely that I'm drawing noble blood muscles. Having worked out since childhood, the flesh maintains a better balance between muscle and fat, making her fleshy limbs more attractive and seductive. It's wrapped and dressed in brightly colored outfits, so any man must be fascinated. In fact, it seems fair to say that her organization was spared a painful demise by her charm.

His name was Nemia-Wise. She, the head of this desolate group "Cloud Gate," is doing her best to welcome him in.

"You're sooner than usual."

"Well, sometimes you can have a morning like that"

"In the morning, it's a little too late."

Nemia has held him with a bitter smile and a dense mouthfeel. He responds to her expression of affection, and heads back.

The usual.

One day, those series of streams that became routine can't help but make him feel the vain of life.

But I also know that I'm not a big person enough to be unhappy with such a life.

Lazen-Urknacto.

Named that, he is taking several turns in his life and singing.