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

"You're not ready."

After it was all over, the mail-of-doer whispered. Whenever thick lips move glossy, it's not my fault that I feel sloppy. I ran out of energy and roots, and I was no longer listening to things like that at last. I just don't feel defeated. Anyway, we didn't compete for victory or defeat, we didn't lose. It's just been tried. And apparently, he passed that test.

Because the look on the mail-of-doer's face, which remained across Setuna, was full, and it was like acknowledging Setuna. The figure has undergone various transformations from a suit that evokes a female teacher, back into a golden outfit, not to mention a light armor in pitch black. But the shape of that light armor was very different from what Setuna wrapped around herself, a shape that accentuated her fleshy limbs. Though I don't even know if I can read it as light armor or something like that on my chest and shoulders and just on my hips. However, it can be seen from her affinity that it seems to be the shape of the original Mail-of-doer.

I guess the light armor when Setuna summoned him could be in shape for him. I couldn't afford to think about that, because without a sense of defeat, I didn't feel like I had failed the trial.

If you were branded disqualified, everything should either go back to being blisters here or start over. But I'm afraid not. Instead, as far as the tranced look of the Mail of Dotor was concerned, I just thought I had passed her trials.

Instead, it's not my fault that the statement sounds noisy.

"I'm ready to lose my love. I'm ready to be deprived of my love. Ready to separate love. I'm ready to break my love."

(Well, I guess so)

I wanted to say it back, but I couldn't say anything. I don't have the strength to do that. I can't help but move one finger at the end of my roots. I don't know how long I've been fighting her trials since then. That's not what it takes hours to talk about. I fought through the dozens, no, hundreds of hours long, trying to be squeezed out without even being given a break.

When asked if this is a test and if it leads to soul training, I just want to believe that it connects.

"You can't even hurt those phonies."

On Setuna, the witch laughs. Besides, it's something I laugh at that looks like I'm having the utmost fun, so I wasn't offended. No, my anger at the Mail-of-Doers has disappeared somewhere and I'm losing it. Setuna doesn't even know what it means. Are you saying that these hundreds of hours of death fighting made me forget?

If you do dive through so many death fights, it could also make you feel like you could tell with her. Even if that was an emotion close to a unilateral and short-circuited mistake, it was such a fierce struggle and a clash of souls that I couldn't help but think so.

I'm sorry.

In the chest, blurry.

Even if the Phalia and the others knew they were impostors, it was a man named Setuna who couldn't help it. Doesn't hurting the impostors mean you have no hesitation in hurting the Phalia's? When I thought about it that way, I felt stunned. Sometimes I thought about the possibility that it might get worse in itself, and in fact, I almost did. Sometimes a phony almost killed me. But I can't change my mind.

I hurt Rem once.

Though for the operation, Setuna had to endure the kind of pain that would deny herself from the ground up when she cut off her body. It was what Rem always wanted, and given her position, it shouldn't be much of a problem. The immortal presence of her has no wounds of that magnitude, nothing. It disappears instantly and is completely healing. But still, Setuna had unthinkable mental pain.

There's nothing harder than hurting what you love.

So, I guess.

The Mail of Dotter has accidentally turned a serious obsession.

"I wonder, for example, what would you do if they didn't shoot you, if they had to kill you, if something happened to them?"

(That's not true -)

"Impossible?

The witch uttered the words Setuna tried to float around her chest, laughing small. That look on Setsuna's face just says it's foreseeable everything she thinks. It was somewhere sweet, somewhere frivolous, and troublesome. I don't know what the intent is and what it means.

"There's no way that's possible."

A mail-of-doer told me quietly.

"You are the user of the Black Spear and the protector of the Demon King's wand. The world will certify you as an enemy. A million worlds become your enemies. You cannot escape that fate with those whom you love and love."

"Ha..."

Finally, I got a voice. I'm back in strength to speak up. More resilient than you can imagine, but that's just because this isn't the real world. In the first place, we could continue to fight death for hundreds of hours, also because this is the world of the power of the soul, a world in which physical power does not exchange meaning. It is not the flesh, but the power of the mind, spirit and soul that is everything. Therefore, I was able to withstand all that fierce fighting and break through the trials. If this were real, it must have been exhausted without holding it for decades. Human strength does not hold that much.

Unless you're a demon.

"Well, thank you very much."

"Nothing like this?

"If it's best for me to get killed, I will."

If that makes them happy. If that's what they want. If that's the only way. If there is no other way.

Otherwise, we will look for a way, but if no other means or methods exist, we will not do so.

Happy to give this life.

Again, I'm ready, Setsuna thinks.

The mail-of-doer narrowed his eyes.

"... that's what you are"

As if I knew, I said.

"There's nothing you can do about all this."

And as they span Setuna, they fold their bodies and bring their faces closer together. Long dark hair touched the tip of her nose and wrapped her face around it as it was because her face approached such a distance that it took her nose to snort. Red eyes staring at this one like blood. My eyes were shaking.

"I know. But, so, a little sad. I'm glad, but sad."

A tear that fell zero out of those witch's eyes hit Setuna's cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"You live for love and die for love. That's all you are. That's why I'm closest to you."

Before trying to understand what her words meant, she said.

"I am a mail-of-doer. It is the love and the lust of sex."

And as he layered his lips, something completely different shoved into Setuna's mouth, not his tongue, and he glanced at the discomfort. Then she smiles glossy and lets her face go. When I spit out what was in my mouth, it was a peach key.

I guess I passed the trial.

Setsuna was surprised to see the tears that conveyed the cheeks of the Mail of Dotor.

What the hell is she?

The six families, including the Mail of Dotor, are the families of the Demon King's Wand. It is unrelated to Setuna, rather, it is not strange to have enmity.

Even so, there were even signs of that, as if she was caring about Setuna.

That's what I've been feeling since I was in the middle of a death fight.

"You are..."

The inquiry scratched out in the light emitted by the key and the associated spatial transfer.

To the next trial, consciousness flies.