Because Janitor-san Is Not a Hero

Then for ten days, Maryam, his entourage Farood, visited the podium of the podium every day, and the podium became close to the two, but rarely faced Nirufal.

Sometimes he was busy in a position like the site manager called the Four Boat Head, but he simply didn't seem interested in the collectors, and only involved the collectors once a day, which was also snow-white to work with.

But as a collector, I'm not dissatisfied with that. I was willing to take a closer look, but that was to be filled with visiting Maryam as every day.

More than that, the collectors were interested in the life of the Buryeag tribe.

Dark Elves, the Buryeags cannot use spiritual magic. Elves who once followed the Demon King have the myth of the Mid-Continent that when the Demon King was crusaded, he lost his spiritual magic and became known as the Dark Elf, but apart from the authenticity of the story, it was true that the Buryeags could not use spiritual magic.

The water is made of that red water, and the boiling cooking uses the scorching heat during the day. There were no signs of preserving meat with ice sperm magic, and the lights used lights that were lighter than special ore lanterns. Nor do they use wind or earth sperm for maneuvering ships.

Even ordinary people on the Mid Continent, who are not magical enough to perform all of their everyday life with spiritual magic, had spiritual magic rooted somewhere in everyday life, but there were no signs of it here at all.

That reminded the collectors of Japan. Once seen, it also overlapped with the life of an equally attracted bone race.

It's not like there wasn't a fridge or a computer, however the collectors lived a long life, but there's still no magic. One thing about the lack of that magic made the sandboat and the life of Japan a mess.

Of course I'm still unfamiliar with stones and muckades wiping my ass, and the mixed winds of fine sand like particles are depressing. The diet is also scarce in the repertoire and only salty, the difference between the warmth of day and night is too intense, and it has to be said that there is no non-pictorial entertainment. There's no water sperm all day, and I can't even make ice at night because of it. Ice sperm existed, but only cold air could be manipulated. If the cold air could not be manipulated, the collector was relieved to think that he could not even use ice sperm magic.

Besides, Farood still has too few mouths, he is slightly forgotten to exist in Nirufal, and it is not at all likely that he was accepted by the Buryeag tribe.

Still, it struck my heart to paint unshakeable sandboats, desert landscapes, and beautiful dark elves.

There was a desert landscape once dreamed of by the collectors. There was a world there that met the fantasies of the Founder.

The Snow Whites are also grumpy during the day and grappling with the Double Shield of the Fei Dragon, but at night it's fun and not hated by the Buryeag tribe.

I'm not going anyhow, I don't know how to get back to the Mid Continent.

Like getting out of here, it's hard to get water in the first place. The only way to get water outside of here is to go to the oasis, but there are mostly leading tribes in the oasis. Then I still felt like I should be here.

For a while, the collector thought I'd be in trouble here.

Ten days after the collectors were picked up that way by the Buryeag tribe, the Sandboat Boats arrived in the desert city of Egbata.

For some reason the Buryeags have been in a hurry since the early morning, which is not even dawn, but the collectors who are just living in the sandboat at the rear of the moment are spared time.

The collectors were staring at the city folks and the Buryeags keeping busy from the convoy that lay behind the city, saying what would begin.

At some point the beast race in coarse clothes and the colours of his skin appeared racially like thin greens and light purples appeared from the city in a pompous manner, holding something like a large water bottle or putting it on his head, and began to line up in the sandboat.

Then the Buryeag tribe, who somehow caused tension around it, starts to stand.

After a while, when the line became enough to connect the city to the sandboat, the sound of a horn whistle echoed three times, similar to the sound of a whistle, and the little old woman appeared from the sandboat accompanied by Nirufal and the men of the Buryeag tribe.

The old woman is a dark elf, somewhat reminiscent of Aufia, the chief of the goddess of the moon, but smaller than that, and the atmosphere she creates also feels like softness itself.

The old woman in the dark elf who disembarked from the boat spoke a word or two to the face of the city, then stood in front of those who were in line, and gently pointed her fingertips at the bottle held by the head of the line.

And the water, released 'red water'.

The collector breathed and watched the old woman.

The way the old woman releases' red water 'is a sight as if she were exercising water essence magic.

When I looked at the snow white to confirm, Snow White also looked a little surprised.

If the old woman is using water essence magic to get water out, the collector and snow white are not surprised either. I simply think the dark elves were superstitious such as unable to use spiritual magic.

But there is no sign of water sperm magic at all from the old woman, nor is there any sign of it in the released red water. Not to mention if there's no sign of autonomous magic, I don't see anything magical.

Without any context or precursor, he 'produced' the 'red water'.

The treasurer, who was getting used to the common sense of this world, haunted his mind about this phenomenon for a while, but remembered that this was a different world and even a land untouched by his predecessor.

Sometimes that will happen, the collector quickly recovers from consternation. There is no such thing as spiritual magic on Earth, no wonder there are stranger things than spiritual magic that are still unknown in this world.

But if the collector is a living Mid-Continental, this sight is such a phenomenal event that it takes so long to suspect that it is God's cause or the devil's men. Because it's impossible, with just one exception, whether it's an elf or whatever race, such as the absence of water sperm in the water of this world.

Then for a while the collector looked at the old woman, who apparently sells red water at extremely cheap prices and sometimes barter things like meat and nuts.

Seeing the happy face of those who bought water, it could be inferred that that was not an extrajudicial price.

Such an old woman's water sale continued even when the temperatures rose enough for Snow White to flaunt her face and rush her keeper inside quickly, but there was nothing like a disturbance about whether it was due to the vigilance of the Buryeags or the restraint of those who would sell the water.

It is about that night.

Heavy metal noises are sounded twice as the collectors finish their naps, wear their gear in combination with cold protection, and when it is time for Farood with a meal to come, they are about to end up in a habitat that is not entirely unthinkable.

When the collector greeted him, Farood stood there, trying to invite him in as usual, but Farood shook his neck to the side.

"... just one thing, ask. You want to stay here as our guest before this?

Ten days of the code, which can also be described as the way things are going, finally seems to have some reaction, the collector guessed.

"... unless it's annoying. If you can, I can help, but if you're trying to dominate us, get us down somewhere appropriate."

"... no problem. Follow me."

Snow White and Azrona seemed fine together, and the collectors followed Farood as they were told.

From the canoe where the rear-end sailor lived, he went through several canoes leading to it, and the sailor was guided to the midboat, and to the big boat in the center of the convoy.

There is a diminished sense of life that was there by the midboat, and in a place of sacred air, the collectors rarely look around the boat.

"... not really, don't look"

Though rare to think of a tingly falude at any rate, the possessor obeys it, but asks one.

"What's so important about the Faruds that you're the woman who puts out the daytime water?

Farood stopped walking pitifully and looked back, with serious eyes.

"... Master Anahita is our pride"

That was the only Farood to say and start walking again, but he spoke eloquently that his proud back said the word from the bottom of his heart.

The day before the sandboat arrived in the city of Egbata, nine days after the collector was picked up.

The old women, chiefs, clan chiefs, elders and even the foremen and deputy foremen of the Dark Elves, whom Farood called Anahita, had gathered in the great ships for an extraordinary meeting on the reception of the collectors.

Farood, the deputy bow of the Fourth Boat, who was taking care of the collector in his succession, reported on his personal viewing in conjunction with the collector, and his attitude of life on the collector's boat.

"... I don't think it's a problem"

Farood was going to tell them, albeit poorly spoken, succinctly, as it were.

"- Wouldn't you alert the Arwala if you accepted a traveler named Klund?

One of the elders leaks his fears frankly, but Nirufal, who was next to Farood, answers. It was Nirufal who helped the collectors and proposed acceptance, and it was also Nirufal who should be defended.

"That possibility cannot be denied. But when you abandon travelers who are lost in the desert, it's the name of the desert people."

Alwara is a leading tribe that dominates the northern desert, rapidly gaining strength in recent years, targeting Tiger Sight and Anahita, as well as sandstream knowledge of the Bahyeg.

"You know best that it's secondary to us, don't you? Besides, I think I did my duty once to help."

"But here's the thing in one of the first chief's will. If a dark-haired, dark-eyed person comes to visit you from the end of the west, you should be very welcome. That is the wish of King Kuro-hsien,"

The Black Wise King saved the Buryeags before you for about 10,000 years, and is considered a great king who left to the east. It is the oldest of the remaining records, but it was well documented in the magic implements transmitted to the tribe, and documents copied of it were also kept in this boat.

"... remember well the records that were forgotten by even the other desert people."

Nirufal was studying with this one in order to take over the foreman's duties.

"- But even that doesn't make it safe for Anahita."

"I don't mind. Let's be disrespectful that we take precedence over the wishes of the Black Wise King."

Anahita told him so in a calm tone.

"Nevertheless, it is you who will actually deal with it, to the best of your ability."

"Okay. However, it is still our duty to give top priority to Master Anahita..."

Even though the contested elder replies so to Anahita, Anahita smiled and did not deny it.

Another elder gave his opinion.

"So is it possible that an insider, or assassin, from another tribe?

"- I don't think so. I can't imagine signing with that many guardian warcraft and becoming someone's running dog. Besides, I don't think they're going to infiltrate the Hornless."

"With all that temper and power, we can also think of taking us away from Anahita with all our might."

"- You didn't expose everything, but you don't seem to be a 'curse' kind of magician, and that power is fully manageable"

"How about the Guardian Warcraft?"

"... I can't hold a five-in-one. I wonder if we can use the total power of this convoy to repel it somehow. In that case, the ship could also be destroyed. We should think of it as the end at a time when it has become relative in the first place. And as it stands, Yukishiro will not see it."

Nirufal had built a good relationship and even turned it into a forsaken, while he had fought Snow White many times.

"... are you going to use it to counter the Alwala tribe?

The chief looked to Nirufal.

"If you do that, buy the objection. If that were possible, the safety of Master Anahita would be firm, but we cannot assume that we can swallow all our codes. Yukishiro is with Klund, not with us."

"... that's why you wished to match the Guardian Warcraft Palace"

Instead of using snow and white, fight snow and white to build yourself up. Nirufal chose the path.

After that, the chief said nothing, and opinions flew one after the other from the face of the other meeting, but Nirufal firmly returned to it.

"- To our general effect, we shall accept the western outward streamer Klund, its guardian warcraft, Yukishiro, and its adoptive son, Azlona, and deliver them to the land we desire, in what circumstances"

When the chief declared so at the end of the debate, there were no objections from the chiefs, elders or foremen. It was the claim of danger, but with them and the people of the desert. Not so ruthless as to throw once again into the desert the treasurer who was in distress.

But this did not formally determine the acceptance of the collector.

On that day, Anahita herself identifies.

The room where the collector was guided by Farood was blurred out by the red light.

As soon as I entered, I noticed the front, Anachta, an old woman in dark elves sitting a little on a colorful carpet at the furthest point. And there are two ladies beside them who look like escorts. More sloppy men, old men, and Nirufal are sitting. Farood also sat on the last seat, closest to the collector.

But not as friendly as when I helped the collectors in their expressions, giving them a strict keeper-like atmosphere. I could feel that determination, not letting Anahita touch one finger.

- Sit down.

The collector sits in the same hush as he does around him, as he is told. Snow White and Azrona formed behind it.

The Ellioval clan is the chief, and the chief captain, Goudals, asks you.

Without any explanation, the magnificent sturdy man named Goudals, who sits nearest Anahita, besides his entourage, strictly told him.

- Are you from here?

The collector answered after a slight confusion.

"... from the west. I crossed the sea and came to see the deserts of this continent, but during my work as a hunter, I was attacked by the great army of the undead and swallowed by the ruins. After that, Snow White broke through the ruins and managed to escape, but Nirufal, picked me up in a desert I'd never seen before, where I was about to twilight along the way."

I've tried not to use reverence to hide that I'm Japanese, but I can't possibly not use reverence in this air, and the collector managed to squeeze out the reverence I'd forgotten.

- Aye, okay.

Goudals glanced around, then turned to Anahita, who sat in the upper seat, and then told him again.

"- This is Anahita, the son of water. Except for the oasis, Anahita is the only one who brings water to this water-poor land. Our Buryeag protects the Anahita and tours the desert with them as they please. No futile strife, no ambition allowed.

- Do you still want to stay here as a guest? "

"... I would like you to tell me a little more"

"Our Buryeag are trading in water as we explore the desert. But you don't make a profit with that water. It's a possible deal for each settlement. It can be described as inexpensive compared to the water in the oasis. But that's fine. It is important to minimize strife over the water and not cause havoc in the desert. There is no ideal home in this world, but we can reduce the strife. To the extent possible, we are doing it. but thanks to Master Anahita, life is made up of hunting without looting or anything like other nomads, but naturally, some tribes target Master Anahita. leading tribes, such as the Alwala."

In the first place, there is no such thing as a tribe without hostile tribes in this desert.

It was natural when it came to medieval times, because it was a world before that, as if there were laws or not.

But not to plunder, the collector was also attracted.

"The settlers will not loot either, but they will be on the side of being looted. Plus the nature of disliking the rest of us. If you don't like it here, I can introduce you."

This was also the case on the Mid Continent, but the bigger the city, the cramped the snow whites become. That was not the intention of the collector.

"... if you don't threaten the lives and freedoms of me, Snow White and Azlona, I'd like to trouble you"

- What is your freedom?

"Freedom to defend oneself, freedom of faith, and freedom to leave here."

"The main code of our tribe is to respect and protect the will of Master Anahita. And if thou keepest it, we welcome the Guest, and do not hinder his freedom. If you leave, let me take minimum care of you."

The contents of the code are the problem, but the collector thought and nodded that if he was officially a guest, Farood would be able to tell all about the code and the whole thing. I have the freedom to leave, so there's nothing wrong with that.

- Is there anything you want from us?

"... forgive me once for anything but irrevocably. I know nothing about the Buryeags, nor about Anahita, my lord. On the contrary, I don't even know about this desert. So I'm sure I'll do something to touch your thoughts. So for that first time, I want you to forgive me as much as you can."

"We can't laugh at our guests' ignorance, but we have trouble being ignored."

"As long as the freedom ahead is upheld, I will uphold this code as long as possible."

The Goudals glanced around again and finally glanced at Anahita.

Then Anahita, who had an atmosphere very similar to that of Aufia, looked closely at the Zao Man, Snow White and Azrona and smiled.

"This was a disaster."

Just one word, but the collector feels relieved from the bottom of his heart. Suddenly he was thrown into a strict ritual and seemed to lose the power that was in his whole body with questions in places where he would be glanced at for sexual roots.

Then, Azrona, who has endured so long, finally explodes her curiosity and approaches Hiko and Anahita. He was concerned about the gentle Anahita.

The collectors and the men around them tried to stop it, but when Anahita stopped it and put Azrona's head on his knees, which crawled over him, he gently stroked the hyena.

"You're smart.... boy? Or a girl?"

Speaking to Azlona, Anahita asks, but the possessor got stuck with the answer.

"... the body is a male, but the mind is like a female"

It is not hard to predict that this unrecognized world, not to mention men's daughters, would be even more backward about gender differences if it were also its untouched ground.

The people around you are leaning their necks.

But Anahita was different.

And he put Azrona's forehead upon his forehead, and said unto him:

"Fair enough, you unusual kid.... and your big daughter is also very strong but very sweet. Living with people would be a big deal."

Anahita continued to stroke Azrona, whose appearance and contents could be described as alien, without any concern at all, and even spotted and praised Snow White as if she had seen it.

The collector has not told us that Snow White is a female. Perhaps he has a sense or understanding of things to think of from his forehead alignment with Azlona. The remnants of the elves that have been in harmony with nature, or the involvement of the power to produce 'red water'?

Such an anahita seems to have detoxified just as much snow and white, and the perimeter vigilance lies in front of you when approaching the anahita with an approximate sleigh, and if you are not hostile to the collector, you will not be hostile to you either, but expose yourself.

"Nice to meet you. I'd be glad to protect you all, if you don't mind."

Anahita's figure with Azrona's head on her knees and stroking Snow White's big back reminded her of an old woman sitting on the edge stroking her cat.

So finally the tension around him, who was watching Anahita, was relaxed, the chief Goudals declared.

"- From this, we will encounter Klund, the western and outward streamer, his patron warcraft, Lord Yukishiro, and his adopted son, Azlona, as our guests"

Then the Buryeags on this occasion responded simultaneously with a wild voice.

When the acceptance of the collectors was formally decided, a welcome feast was held on the deck of the Great Boat. The collectors were introduced there to the Buryeag tribe and were welcomed by the Dark Elves, who appeared next to next.

We already knew those with boats near the rear-rear canoe where the sawdust dwells, but others are intrigued by the sawdust flowing from the outside.

It seems that the presence of snow white and azrona is also very rare, with more people than the collectors.

The collector looked with pleasure at the snow whites as they were tired of the crowd of people.

At the end of the grand feast by almost every Buryeag in this fleet, even though it was qualitative, the night was already deeper.

Leaving his back in the snow white, his father or mother somehow receives the sleeping children in gratitude to Snow White and returns to his own boat.

The collector was also led back to his boat by Farood and Nirufal and Maryam, but the collector grabbed Farood's shoulder, who tried to leave, and held him back.

Farood, who is usually silent and doesn't really change his expression, also sees a collector who grabbed his shoulder with a slightly upbeat look that today's feast seemed to be fun.

"- Now that we're done with the Tenth Day Code, you're gonna tell us more about the Faruds, right?

Farood unconsciously retreats to the words, remembering that overnight questioning attack, but the hand of the collector holds it tight.

Farood sees his sister, Nirufal or Maryam, as he asks for help...

"Should I? Brother, please explain this evening's vigilance to our guests."

Farood gets stunned by Nirufal's proclamation. And even Maryam smiled as if to say good luck, saying hello to Snow White and Azrona and leaving with Nirufal.

Farood's eyes are as if he were a calf to be sold, and he will be taken to the vaulter's room, where he will again be asked questions throughout the night.

Now the collector can finally get an approximate idea of the whole Buryeag tribe.

The Buryeags were touring the sparse settlements of Oasis with Anahita, bringing water everywhere. In this desert, where water lines gold, no more than gold, the whole desert has dawned in a long battle over Anahita in the past, and some ambitious people still aim at Anahita, where peace for the time being persists.

It was that it was the Buryeags who protected Anahita from such people, and then did not monopolize Anahita, bringing the benefits of water to the widest possible extent, and wishing for peace in the desert.

There are some fears. But that stuff is in any social group, and that doesn't make it a reason to leave here, and that's what the collectors thought at that time.

The next day, the Zao set foot in the desert city for the first time with the men of the fourth boat led by Nirufal and several women. Snow White and Azrona leave a message hating the heat of the day, but the collector decided to accompany them because the desert they pursued and its cultural area were there because of it.

A blue stoned string was given to Nirufal just before, and this is what they say.

"That is a testament to being our guest. If you keep that where you can see it from the outside, there's probably nothing wrong with that. So don't cause problems. It's best not to leave us, but if you need anything, just tell us right away. And then, unless you're clearly asked for help, never fight. Avoid fighting, wherever possible."

The collector is bewildered by that word, which sounds like Nirufal's plea or his teachings.

"... may I be attacked if there is no need here?

"There is no such thing as a spellman around here, and no hand-working comparable to my brother's. Your spell will allow you to escape most of your opponents intact. Tell us later. I swear I will protect your pride. So enjoy it. I don't know how much my brother explained to me, but I didn't hear and understand everything about the land?

Though the collector is somewhat unconvinced, he agreed.

The hustle and bustle of a wide variety of nomads and bazaars awaits. I had no choice but to have some restrictions, and then I broke them off.

But the more I saw this desert city of Egbata, the more I learned that there was nowhere like what the collectors thought. All the small markets were far from being a hustle and noise, and there was no such thing as a vibrant and varied nomad, and there were only slaves of a wide variety of races dressed in a miserable manner.

There are slaves in this land. Nor was it an institutionally organized slave like the Kingdom of Rattana, where slaves as looters existed publicly.

It is not race that boasts the greatest forces in this desert, but those called horned species with thin red skin and horns, but some horned species are cut off and enslaved. Besides that, there were also beast and bird races, as well as races.

There was exactly what should be called slave-like slavery, although not many of the slaves present in this city in themselves seemed to work silently in this blaze, sometimes whipped by master-like people, or eating crude meal-like things in the gap between that house and the house where square houses like sand pressed and consolidated were built.

With the Lord's trust, some slaves seem to be treated quite well, but most of the slaves here now have dead fish-like eyes and live.

Farood told me, but I don't actually feel good when I look at it.

The Buryeag do not treat slaves in any way because of their tribal philosophy or substantive problems, but that is just a difference in tribal philosophy. It seemed to be the current situation for the Buryeags that although it was not a full affirmation, there was nothing they could do about it.

The collector wants to meditate his eyes on too many cultures, no, the differences of times, but this is the reality of the desert. There were, of course, problems in Ankwar, such as the use and abandonment of the lives of liberated slaves, but they were still institutionally sophisticated.

But here slaves are only possessions.

There is not enough water, food, and land, and constant tribal and clan-to-clan rivalries, looting occurs. Then people would be stripped, tribes would perish, and there would be extra people, and that would be slavery. If you become a slave, you have to die, so those who are enslaved are also spoiled by slavery. It was just that.

Neither the collector nor the rationale is incomprehensible, but tolerance was difficult.

Once the keeper also bought a slave, a yobi, but it was his wish, and the relationship was almost that of the hired and the employed.

I never accepted that slavery was right. If you think about yourself being enslaved, you can't even affirm it.

That's why I'm also so self-conscious that I don't have the power to transform society and get rid of slavery like a turbulent male or savior.

There were also people in Japan who were in an unfortunate situation. Maybe I was in that shallow part myself. But the world was turning. Neither did the collectors do any activity to get rid of it, nor did society move so much. There should have been some parts that had improved, but rather worsened.

Slaves were the same as it was, a reality that could not be helped by the hands of the treasurer.

When you have to live in a reality you can't do anything about, the collector makes rules in you. It has always been a murder or retaliation.

Slaves and other things are not necessary to me.

The collector put it as a general rule. There may be exceptions like yobi, but I made that clear, my own rule.

I can't do anything, but I don't even accept slaves as they are.

That was all the collectors could do, as usual.

But when he managed to reconcile himself and reality in such a way that he would not be disappointed with the reality in front of him and with those who live in that society, the collector had somehow slipped away.

Though I think about it, I walk out toward a sandboat that I can even see from inside the city. Nirufal told me to do this when it came off.

But the collector stops.

Different sounds rang from afar, and the beastly roar that stirred people's fears roared.

I immediately lay myself in the shadow of the house, but I can only feel the signs of the people of the city, like those who pushed and killed the confusion, only the sound of a sword trident, an anger, and a scream echoing from time to time.

The collector, who decided it still seemed okay around here, rushed from shade to sandboat in a straight line.

But before arriving at the sandboat, the treasurer stops walking.

The men on the tumor lizard were running through and stripping people as they rode, and those who got off the tumor lizard were entering the house on their own to take allowance or as soon as they could.

'- Avoid fighting whenever possible. Thy pride shall be preserved. So enjoy it. "

The collector remembered what Nirufal had told him beforehand and managed to stop intervening. Strangely, no one tells the collector to help me, so that was also a reason to hesitate to intervene.

The men who continue to plunder and the people of the city who are deprived, and many are defeated by the looters, whose resistance is also empty. No one seemed dead, but children and women had been stripped and food and valuables looted.

Under the downpouring scorching sunlight, the zodiac could only stare at it.

But there, a single arrow flew.

The arrow was bounced against the barrier of the zodiac and pierced the sand, but that gave the zodiac an excuse.

"... this is self-defense."

Saying so, he pulled off a blue stone formation that was wrapped around his wrist and put it in his pocket, wearing a leather helmet and a face guard, he broke into someone else's house and kicked a looter obsessed with looting from behind, burying him in the sand.

I won't kill you, and I won't bleed as much as I can.

That was what Farood was telling me. A man in the desert never forgives vengeance. Hunt him down even to the end of the desert, and retaliate. That, he said, is the flux of a man in the desert. No other nomads but the Buryeags. Is that so? Therefore, killing it would be troublesome, and I can't let you get caught tailing injuries.

I'm not good at it, but I couldn't leave the collector anymore.

Right in front of you, someone, is unjustly hurt. It's taken away.

When I replaced it with myself, I couldn't overlook it or anything. If I had no power, I would have fled without hesitation. But now there was power to the extent that I could do something about it, to the extent that I could. Worst case scenario, some snow and white.

Now, if I saw it and pretended not to see it, I wasn't going to know how to live.

I just need to hear what I need to hear for once.

First I asked an old man with thin green skin who had signs of being plundered and of being cut off from a race that was getting smaller in the narrow space between the house and the house, no horns.

"Did you take anything from these guys?

"... the usual. We're not doing anything. They always take it away."

He even seemed frightened by the collector who kicked the usurper in, and only answered with a blur. The voice color seemed to give up, but so was the anger seeping in.

The collector who heard it returns to the earlier house and now speaks to the usurper who is burying it on the ground inside the house. If I bury it outside, I'll die in the meantime.

"Why are you doing this? Retaliation?"

He was a man of horny seeds with thin red skin, with two horns growing from the gap between the turban-like things wrapped around his head.

"What are you, a traveler? Yeah, okay.... You can't starve my child, my family. It would be natural."

A land pattern called desert, grains and vegetables are not available anywhere. Nomads have no choice but to take away. Looting was not so much an act of violence as a means to live.

"Then why strip people?

"People? Slaves are property. Besides, if you increase the number of children, one day the tribe will perish."

If his father was a tribal man, and his son was excellent, he was welcomed into the tribe, even though he was a slave son.

……

"I'm leaving the least I can live for. And then it's not like I know what happens to the residents."

"Why this city?

"I don't know. It's up to the chief of the family."

The collector struck out the question there and left the man buried.

I felt like I caught a few glimpses of this desert circumstance in my questioning with the man, but that had nothing to do with the collector.

"If they hit me, don't hit me back..."

When the collector is so blurred, the buried man answers.

"Whatever. Aren't you brave for a 'Hornless' spell artist? That's the man in the desert. But shed the blood of my tribe, and I will chase you to the end of the earth, and I will kill you. Not his family, not his people."

The man didn't deny it, but if he kills the tribe, he will kill us all.

"If you don't want to be taken, don't take it."

"You have to take it, you can't eat it"

The collector is puzzled by the subtlety of the conversation.

Expansion of retaliatory targets for affirmation of looting, affirmation of retaliation, and rebellion. Some were empathetic, others didn't like it.

The collector cut up a story with the man there, tried to leave the house, and stopped his leg.

You can't leave an attack on yourself, an outrage in front of you.

However, it was also a problem to annoy the Buryeag tribe.

"... oh, is that it?"

You just have to sneak in and help, like you did with the Seeker.

That was the decision, and the collector checked his surroundings before leaving the house.

As he was sneaking toward the sandboat, a looter in a tumor lizard (Dino) was about to run away with a stripped girl in his arms. Behind it, a man stripped of his daughter is screaming something as he crawls to the ground.

Unlike the man earlier, there was an abusive, enjoyable grin on the looter's face.

To stop the tumor lizard, the collector forms a sand wall in the direction of travel, and where its velocity is loose, catches the tumor lizard with sand from its toe.

"- Damn, what! I didn't hear there was a magician."

The usurper gets evil as he jumps off the tumor lizard, but his own quarters are surrounded by sand walls, and wolves.

"Hih, you coward, show yourself. We know that we are the Falahans of the Arwala."

He was kicked by a collector who was sneaking behind him before he ran out and buried in the shady sand of the house.

Help the spiritual magician and warrior incompatible too, or the collector lightly buries the usurper in the sand. The looter's attack did not reach the usurper, and only the usurper's attack reached the usurper.

This is why Spirit Magic and Life Magic swept the Mid Continent. The more heroes you become, the easier it is to screw down the keeper like Farood, but if you gather middle-man magicians, there's nothing you can't defeat. Given the rarity of heroes, it could also be said naturally that the spiritual magic that was easy for anyone to remember changed the continent.

The child who was helped looked like he didn't know what was going on, but when he found his father, he rushed over.

The collector stares at it from the shadows and then sees the man surrounded by sand. Of course, I can't even see it surrounded by sand, but I wasn't convinced by the look on the man's face at the time of the looting.

"... sounds like fun"

"Who is it, jeez? You're not from this city.... Oh, that's fun. So why don't you do it? From what I've seen, you're a traveler, aren't you? If you're coming this way, you're welcome to name your tribe, right?

The collector turned his back shortly after he heard it and ignored the man's inferior voice. Probably not lying about what the man is saying. No, but that's also not acceptable.

The collector was even more puzzled by the fact that the story varied from person to person. Neither the man earlier nor this man seems to be lying. Looting to live or to enjoy.

Then, on the way back to the sandboat, he buried about two people who attacked or were attacking someone, and then he went to the exit of the city, and the footsteps of the collector stopped.

No matter how untouchable a hero is, the usurpers are also in the midst of the way of a hero. I'm not feeling so dull that I don't realize the existence of a collector who was secretly in motion.

The collectors were somehow surrounded by them.

"- Arwala us..."

While the leader seemed to be screaming something, and the keeper did not hesitate to blow his finger whistle, calling Snow White.

About a beat or two from the finger whistle, a grumpy snow white wraps Azrona around his tail, with a double shield of a flying dragon firmly around his mouth, and arrives.

Even though it's only a little cooler with the double shield of a flying dragon, in this blaze, water on the burning stone. Snow White was hot, hot, hot, hot. Ever, clearly annoying.

The usurpers are bewildered by the sudden appearance of a warcraft, but the men of the desert, who glorify their bravery, cannot retreat.

The usurpers forget to even lift their mouths, stare at the snow white figure, and look silently at the keepers who don't care what happens if the usurpers retreat.

The air changed when the zodiac began to think that the sweat flowing sloppily in the leather armor was depressing.

"- It is Nirufal, the head of the fourth boat of the Buryeag tribe. They let us arbitrate."

Among them appeared Nirufal, and the men of the fourth boat, who rushed to witness signs of the curse of the treasurer and the running of the snow and white.

"... accept it"

The scene somehow subsided on the consent of the leader of the usurper, who feared the power of snow and white.

And the plunderers of the Pharaoh family of the Arwala returned to me in the name of the temper of the traveller, and Anahita, who rose to the bounty of a meal. He seemed to be a byline clan among the most powerful Alwara in this desert, and he didn't seem to associate well with the mainstream Avagan clan, and he preferred the Buryeag clan, who could never be close to that mainstream.

Of course, I never returned what I looted, but I never demanded anything from the collectors or the Buryeags.

Besides, a number of factors overlapped and did not develop into inter-tribal conflicts, such as the fact that the collectors had not killed anyone, but had not inflicted a conspicuous wound, and thus retained the overwhelming power of snow and white, and the fact that they were recognized as travellers who were not under anyone's asylum for concealing a further string.

The collector bowed his head. I'm not convinced, but if I don't do this, it won't subside.

"I'm sorry"

"What, never mind. If you're a traveler or a drifter who's neglectful of public opinion, you don't have a choice.... Besides, I was impressed with the bravery, albeit the magician. There's no connection. I can't keep Yoshiyoshi, who wields power for this city, as a magician."

The last time the collectors bowed their heads and the leaders of the looters allowed it, it was all over.

Dropping off the looters running away on the tumor lizard, the collector returned to his sandboat, but Nirufal stuffed him in a strong tone before entering the cabin.

"- Why did you want to intervene? No one should have asked you for help."

If the usurper had known that the usurper had already become a guest of the sandboat, it would have been more troublesome. I couldn't have said it as Nirufal depositing the fourth boat.

"... an arrow plundered the barrier. It's self-defense, and you can't miss getting people stripped right in front of you."

"Who would believe a scratchless raw man's words? It was a slave who was stripped to death. You seem to be counting on Yukishiro, but don't rely on your strength right away. Think about the aftermath of retaliation."

Attacking the barrier is a declaration of war for the Collector, but for the Marauder, the intervention of the Collector, who clearly appears only 'intact' to the people of the land, is not acceptable.

In addition, 'slaves' are property, not people, and are subject to looting. If a man of the same tribe is stripped or killed, he must retaliate with blood, but not that far in slavery.

This is' common sense 'common to the land, but it was badly difficult for the collectors to understand. There was also no distinction between collarless slaves credited to their owners and the local population.

"... then you want me to be shot dead by an adult? I'm not saying I don't rely on snow and white, but if I don't do it back, they're increasingly coming to take it. Besides, it's odd that you should overlook the crime."

"- This is war. Are you prepared to intervene there?"

To the word, the treasurer was plunged into the void. Trying to say it back, I can't find the words. It was too small to say war, far from what the collectors knew was war.

"Some people can't live without plundering them. So there is a minimum code called custom. If it's just a plunder of killing, we won't miss it. But this pillage, which is a matter of custom, is about this eggbat and them."

Nirufal and I are not convinced. But there's no solution. We just have to be thorough with the minimum rules and be silent. Slavery and plunder, to deny it altogether, this desert society had not yet matured.

Robbery of individuals, robbery of groups, organized robbery, and war. It is forbidden to loot or steal within a tribe, and looting between tribes is right if it is in accordance with the fashion.

The collectors no longer know where to draw the line from or what's right.

"... I know. But it wasn't just the plunder to live, it was the one we were playing with. How about that? Besides, if you were watching me in silence, how could you say I wouldn't be caught and enslaved, too?"

"The tribe has one or two of the uncomfortable. Don't bring it together. Besides, do you think we will allow our guests to be enslaved? Why didn't you believe us?"

"How can you say that if you don't abandon me for the sake of your tribe and your son?"

It is a buying word to the selling word, but I was informed about the Buryeag tribe and was not unafraid of it this way. So the collector defended himself.

Nirufal bit off his back teeth.

It's not that I don't know what the collector says, and I take the doubts of the collector for granted. But you can't admit that as the head of the Buryeag.

The collector can't retreat again. It swallowed that the existence of a custom of slavery and plunder in the land, as well as the fact that the Buryeags acknowledge the existence of slavery even though it does not deal with slavery, would be a difference between times and cultures.

However, it is also true that even though it is somewhat prebuilt, a flowing arrow almost stabbed the treasurer, and that a man was stripped in front of him, even though he was a slave, and that there are plunderers with mixed pleasures.

To be denied that from my head, I didn't like it.

Hearing anger and anger, Farood, and Maryam came.

We both face each other as the collector and Nirufal poke each other in the nose tip and yell at each other.

In the position of bowman, I could not have expected Nirufal, who could not have crushed its mentes by paying attention to the collectors in front of a large crowd, to be paying attention in the boat he thus gave to the collectors, but I could not imagine that this had been the case so far.

Farood scratches his head like he's in trouble.

Nirufal is furious, but Farood, no, the Buryeag men were not so much to blame for the actions of this collector. Instead, given the original temperament of the desert man, I was wholeheartedly in agreement with what that usurper leader said.

Follow nothing but the tribe and live for the tribe. Blood is not a man who doesn't retaliate.

That is the man of the desert.

But the men also knew that Nirufal's position did not allow them to admit it, and neither the table nor the keeper was to be covered.

Besides, the men of the Buryeag are men of the desert, but more than that, the Buryeags are the supreme protectors of Anahita. The position of the Collector is understandable as a man, but as a Buryeag, I feel angry, that's what the Collector's actions were.

Now, the nasty, native Farood was lost in front of the two yelling at each other, but Maryam slipped out with Sta by its side.

"- Nil, the first mistake wasn't a promise to forgive."

Maryam, daughter of Goudals, chief and chief sailor, had heard about it from her father.

"That's irrevocable."

"- You've reached the sheath where you should be right now. Besides, you can understand Klander's point, right?

Nirufal pushes all the way to Maryam's argument.

And Maryam also pointed the spear at the treasurer.

"- I know what you're trying to say, but you know what would have happened if I'd taken a wrong step, right?

Having grasped the character of the treasurer in this short time, Maryam briefly told him, without absurding his tone.

As a result of the treasurer's power to defend himself and to help those around him, it could have brought a crisis to the Buryeag tribe. Maryam pointed out only that one thing.

Of course it is right that the collector defended himself, and he did not know it, but therefore he tried to help those around him. But as a result of that, Maryam says it's not the end of the line that puts others in crisis.

"... that, I know. I'm sorry."

"- Yes, that concludes this story. So that's what I'm talking about."

He punched one hand, wondering if he was going straight back to his boat, and entered the pod of the poacher, and jumped into the snow white, which he watched as he lacked the quarrel between the poacher and Nirufal, and the azurona, which was horny.

Suddenly, Snow White seems depressed, but in this short period of time, he finds out so much about Maryam's perseverance that he appropriately tails it with indifference. Azrona, who sees Maryam in a glittering admiration for stopping the quarrel between the zodiac and Nirufal, began to gladly let Maryam play.

Nirufal, poisoned by such a usual sight, glanced at the collector and left.

The collector was staring at its back.

It wasn't just the rebellion against Nirufal, it was the rebellion against this desert, and the frustration with myself for not being able to capture this desert well.

On the other hand, Lalo, enslaved in the oasis, was not so much bought by the Lord, who was lucky and good, etc., but was used by the chief of the Alwara clan to boast the greatest force in this desert as a slave on loan for a day out of its rarity.

Naturally, there was no such thing as human rights there, and he managed to live with being treated like a sex slave of both sexes. He seems to have liked the part about being a powerless race despised as' hornless' but with a fairly neat appearance and using strange spells.

But even though he was a former displaced Lalo, no, he was the former displaced Lalo, which was why he was causing him to resent and hate such treatment.

Laro had the thought in his chest that one day he would kill them all, eating up his teeth.

"- Get in."

One day, Laro was taken to the chief's bass it and stepped into the big tent without interruption.

Only one, the chief Basit, was able to converse with Laro with special magic equipment. Rallo is relieved by that, but at the same time more hatred is raised that it is Basit who now treats himself as a slave.

But Laro is about to lose his hips from the moment he walks in. I forgot in an instant, such as my hatred of Bass It.

It was the male lion of the Red Lotus, who made a magnificent hyena like a burning flame.

Blood Crystal Lion (Solarn). There is never a moderate atmosphere of killing or violence scattered around a body that is more than once larger than snow and white, with tails and nails with sharp crystals like hardened blood, and more importantly, without trying to hide it.

Oh, this was enough to make Laro give up his survival, who was about to live out of resentment and raw obsession with this desert, even though he was enslaved.

"... well, I didn't know it was flat to look at Master Jamsid... my liver is sitting there for no horns"

Basit says so, but as for Laro, I know Snow White, the same high-ranking warcraft, but am therefore just somewhat used to it, and I wanted to escape now.

"Though Master Jamshid is under contract to me, he is revealed with the Guardian Warcraft of my tribe. Talk about what you know so you don't have to be crude. While Master Jamshid is enjoying himself, he will be able to live.

Is this hope or despair?

Sure, I've heard such old stories are in Ashamism, but I didn't even think I'd see a high-ranking warcraft in front of me, such as a tyrant waking up to his conscience like the end of that story.

But Laro began to talk so that he could spark only a small hope.

One day I'll tear the ones who put themselves into slavery apart, keep that in your heart.

A few days after that.

When Basit peered into the tent, Laro had not been killed.

"You're going to have a little this time.... what?

There came a man in the tribe making a roundup of the intermediaries.

Basit takes his gaze off the tent and when he turns back to the man, the man begins to whisper.

The story was that there were those who obstructed the plundering of the Farahaan clan in the sidelines that distanced themselves from the Avagan clan, and the Buryeag clan conducted the arbitration.

"Is it the same mediator temptation? But..."

Basit groans abominably.

Never following the Arwala tribe that dominates the northern part of this desert, the Anahita and Bahyeg, who water scarce areas of the oasis over the sand currents, were the oculus above the eyes for the Arwala tribe.

The only tribe that will have to follow the Arwala if Anahita gives them water is also refusing to be ruled by the Arwala by Anahita applying water.

Even more so, it does not rule the tribe, and it is extremely difficult to see because it is called the peace of the desert.

But even to destroy the Buryeags because they didn't like it, the Buryeags were few in number but a thousand, and on top of that escaped into the sandstream, there was no way to strike them with their hands.

More than a thousand years ago, they were nomads who carried out looting, but now they did not, living in the distribution of water and hunting in sandstreams, and it is difficult to say that both nomads and fixed inhabitants who seek peace.

Formerly a nomad, the Arwala tribe lived in a settled, nomadic ethic and championed in this desert.

History of the past, skirmishes and, above all, differences in philosophy will not allow either side to dominate it.

In recent years, Basit signed with Jamshid, who became the guardian warcraft of the Alwara tribe.

Guardian Warcraft. As Snow White was also called, that is what we call the High Warcraft with man in this desert. Basit was the only one in this desert who could understand Jamshid's words, as one who had made a covenant with Jamshid.

Against the backdrop of the power of Jamsid, the Alwaras quickly extended their dominant areas and were thought to change dramatically their power relations with the Buryeags, but not as much as the Alwaras the Alwaras expected.

Sure, the push in the desert zone became more advantageous, but Jamsid just couldn't move around the sand currents freely either.

Jamsid's personality also has a major cause.

Whimsical, brutal. I have a contract, but don't listen to Bass It. Conversely, sacrifices and the like are not demanded, but occasionally slaves touched by inquisition are eaten to death.

Still, Basit signed the contract because it would protect the dominion's oasis. As a jamsid, I just don't like getting my bunk roughed up, the water field is all my own, but that was enough.

If you don't have to rip your power into home defense, it's easy to go on offense, and the presence of jamsides drastically reduces the approaching of other warcraft, stabilizing grazing and farming. The Alwala tribe, which now only dominated one great oasis, has now come to dominate the northern strip.

But then it also seems that there is no such thing as Jamshid's interests, but the more Jamshid tells us that the more Arwala spreads their dominant areas, the more their territory can be extended, and their management can be thrown round to the Arwala, so it's good to save time. The tents, carpets, and fatty livestock that people produce are also favorites.

This whimsical, tyrannical, but tremendously strong guardian warcraft was not an out-of-the-box dealer for the Alwala, but rather gathered the awe of the Alwala men as beings that embodied the men of the desert.

'Flame with horns' is also a word that means the Alwara tribe, but also the name of the demon god who is considered its ancestor. One of the major reasons was that the red crystal horns, with their bloody colors that jamsides wrap around when fighting, overlapped with their demons.

"... the question is, unidentified warcraft and spellman"

I have no idea who the obstructor is.

"... but if you use it well"

No matter how Anachta or the Buryeag desire peace, the people of the desert cannot even dye their souls.

Because we know that, the Buryeags acquiesce to certain pillages and customs. He could not suppress the temper of the people of the desert that they would not obey anything but the tribe.

But this time, someone obstructed the looting according to the custom of not killing, not grabbing anything but slaves, leaving at least the supplies to live in, and the Bahyeag arbitrated it.

For example, if any of them were connected to the Buryeags, the desert people would rebel. Nomads who plunder to live look good on the surface just to get water, but their minds go away.

On the contrary, vulnerable settlers may be welcome, but that is fine. The position becomes clearer and easier to do. The steadfastness of fixed dwellers and nomads is deeply rooted, and if the Buryeags take sides with fixed dwellers, nomads are only united and hostile.

I don't care if someone is actually connected or not. That's just what we need to talk about.

Bass it's not that hasty.

One at a time, I thought I should sharpen my powers.

Unexpectedly, the back tent swayed.

The only thing I could confirm when Basit looked back and looked forward again was the dust that had risen and the red dots that ran towards the south.

What happened.

If you look at it, the hornless slaves left in the tent are relieved.

Bath it again whimsically, with a deep sigh, but into the tent,

"- I'll let you know what I told Master Jamside."

That's what I said.