Because Janitor-san Is Not a Hero

I also heard a gruesome roar in the ears of the collector, who was lying down in a high fever of flu.

But for some reason, the Buryeags don't fit that voice, and things just get worse.

Not to mention I even heard Nirufal and the roar of the men.

I didn't know what it was, but I couldn't let it go, and the collector kept pushing Azlona's stop, screaming.

- Get some water.

The Voice of the Collector roars on the battlefield and the transformed flotilla. Loudly loud by wind magic, it was faint like a nearly broken radio, but the Buryeags, and even half scorpions, stopped moving aloud beyond its people's knowledge. I can't help but be surprised because I'm not familiar with spiritual magic.

But more than that, the half scorpion had his eyes rounded to surprise.

Says the collector, who had endured the headache and the pains of moderation that were obscured by heat by such a semi-scorp.

- Don't attack me all of a sudden.

Most importantly, the half scorpions and the Buryeags have killed each other many times in this desert. No more negotiations, no more crap.

One big half scorpion points its emotionless eyes at the collector, and the air leaks and bursts.

"Words, do you understand?

"You can hear me if you just scream"

The language of the semi-scorp was unique, and if you forcefully give it something close to the pronunciation of Japanese, many words similar to 'shi' and 'pa' were used, and there were few vocabularies. Because of that, it only sounded like the sound of a warcraft.

- Whoa, what are you talking about? If you're doing something like a half scorpion. "

For some reason it seemed that the collector was talking to a half scorpion, and to that too insane event, Nirufal forgot all the blood and stuffed it to the collector.

"Shut up."

Standing was also finally in a state, and Nirufal's novel was annoying.

"Just answer me."

"You'll see."

Nirufal lost his word.

The collector's voice sounded like a yell toward the whole thing was in the language of a half scorpion and a half scorpion in the language of the Buryeag. And since the words after that were directed only at the half scorpions, it only sounded like the collectors were imitating the sounds of the half scorpions to the Nirufals.

"... I mean, you can think of half a scorpion as understandable, right?

"Yes."

Apparently, the zodiac's ability to translate determined half scorpions to be those close to people.

"So they're saying they want water, right? Is there anything else?

The collector turned his attention to the half scorpion.

"What do you do when you get water? You still want to do this? Or do you still want something?

'Water, if only. I don't want to fight anymore.'

"Consideration, no. Right, can I get something instead of water?

"Food, less. But if you're proud, you can do it. '

"Proud?"

"Strong looking horns, beautiful scales, big fangs"

"- If you want water, you never move. And get your men out of here. If you still want to fight, I'll fight too."

While looking up at the half scorpion, the collector forcefully makes up for the dull sensation with magic to float the sand around him.

With the utmost glory, he also stroked the hyena of Azlona next door.

"Promise."

Needless to say a scorpion mixer, the half scorpion stared at the collector with eight eyes without a look on his face.

The collector does not reply immediately and sees Nil-Fall.

"They just need water. I don't even want to fight. And maybe the Warcraft material will give way to the price of the water. And if you promise not to fight any more, you will let your men leave."

Nirufal exhaled heavily at the collector as if he were an interpreter. A dead Sahad's face floated around, but I apologize and seal it in the back of my heart.

"Let's swear we won't get our hands on it.... you'll tell me why you understand the words later."

That's all Nirufal left to say, and when he put his sword back on his back, he jumped a little to report back to the chief.

The collector looked firmly back at the eight eyes of the half scorpion.

"Promise."

Then the half scorpion gently retreated his men.

If we get that far, neither did the Buryeags believe in the words of the half scorpions, and thus the battle between the Buryeags and the half scorpions, which began at dawn, drew the curtain.

The half scorpions say they have a tribal name 'Pavilion'. You think it means' one with a black crust '?

The lower body is an almost complete scorpion, but the upper body is a woman who has exposed her breasts. However, its face has a pair of long but unemotional eyes and three small pairs of side eyes, some hard epidermis from cheek to neck. The lower body also has a large scorpion and scorpion tail like a scorpion, but no poison. It is also scarce for emotional ups and downs, and hence there is little such thing as expression.

Speaking only of this Pavilion tribe, they say that only females exist, and if they make children, they go out under a male group of their kind or a man of another race to get their children and come back.

But why didn't you try to negotiate when you said you had enough culture to speak the language?

If not, you can take it.

That was their creed. However, if you regularly divide the water, I don't want to be hostile to the Buryeag people who have been so reminded of its strength as to dislike it for years, because it was genuine.

Later, while the collectors fluttered, they acted as interpreters, and once a year, Anahita reconciled the water by providing rare warcraft materials and minerals that the Pabirs only existed in the depths of the desert.

We didn't ask each other for compensation or anything.

The Buryeags tear and push resentment to death, and the Pavils seem to lack that feeling in the first place. The clan will grow naturally if we get water from now on. That's fine, it seems.

Buryeag and Pabir tribes. Too different in culture and edibility, but we're going to be dating each other in terms of 'water'. Most importantly, this interaction prompted the Pavilions to review a similar culture to cannibalism, but that was still a story ahead of them.

He was a treasurer who took between the two tribes as an interpreter, but was brilliantly making the disease worse. But I couldn't push myself to join the mourning of the dead Buryeag men.

All the people of the Buryeag are gathered together on the deck of the great and midboat. Everyone, including Anahita, was wearing a black cloth from his head, staring at the remains of the men, Sahad and Aslan, who had been returned from the Pabil tribe.

The wreckage is wrapped in a black cloth and all you can see is the face. But the collector knew. That beneath that black cloth, on the chest of the remains, there is a marriage permit or a painting of a wife that the collector did on a small crust.

Though naturally because I drew it on most of the men and women on the other side, it seemed to show a definite connection to me, and the collector felt a small sense of loss. Sahad and Aslan said they barely remember what it was like.

I have the thought that it would have been better for the collector to still fight like that.

That way I didn't have to swallow my grudges unilaterally. If I were you, I would want to fight and avenge you. At least it can't be that I won't ask for any compensation.

But then there could have been more casualties, and if compensation was taken, future relationships could be obstinate.

The collector stared at the Beryeag tribe's condolences, asking himself what he should have done if he had been a party.

"- Zand is the child, Sahad. You were all pranks, but you always fought to shelter your people. Barbak is the child, Aslan. You were kind to everyone and admired by the children. I am proud to have been protected by you. - Go to your ancestral god."

Anahita, with her blushing tears, the same colour as the water she herself produces on her eyeballs, wielded red water on the remains of Sahad and Aslan, wearing a black cloth.

Then the men take it up, carry it from the big boat to the middle boat, to the bow of the leading boat, and throw it into the sand stream.

The men never cried. Nirufal also did not zero tears when he said that one of his companions and one of his distant ones was dead.

But instead, the women were crying. Maryam wept.

A dusk-stained sandy wind caught the women's sighs.

The Pavilions were staring at the burial of the Buryeags from a distance away, but there was no concept of condolences to them. Death was obvious, and even the carcass had to be fed, so I never thought about it.

I danced loosely to see if there was just something I felt watching the Buryeag tribe.

The Pavilions dance at all times. I don't want to miss the little emotions that come up.

But it was incomprehensible to the Buryeags.

"Eh, those guys..."

The men who were close to Sahad and Aslan reacted particularly sensitively. Though you pushed the resentment to death, the resentment didn't disappear.

But when the collector controlled it with his hands, and approached the fringe fluttering, he stared at their dancing and cleared his ears to a song that could not be called a song.

And tell them they're going to turn back to the Buryeag tribe.

"... they don't understand about condolences"

No one is convinced by what they say, but nevertheless the collector continues.

"Just don't know, I'm honoring and sparing the bravery of the Buryeag men. Of course, there's a part of us there that glorifies our bravery."

There was no such idea as a favorite enemy to the Pavilions, and this was, in a sense, a contradictory emotion for them. But it seemed to them that they were singing and dancing their first emotions as they were, conflicting.

The men hear it, they push it.

The treasurer, who tended to break the code of things, had become bitterly laughed at by the vast majority in the wind, oh, that troubled one. But there was an incredible credibility that there would be no shelter for the half scorpion in this situation. Otherwise, I won't bother to intervene in the plunder by causing outrage, he said.

Therefore the Buryeags believed in the words of the treasurer.

"- Let us be proud of the two men whose courage was even honored and mourned by the Fae"

Furthermore, when Anahita says so, there is no longer a denial to the men. Condolences restored serenity again.

The remains wrapped in black cloth flowing down the sand stream.

Strange songs of the Pavilions, slight tones and odd dances that burst with sukiyaki and air bubbles.

The sun on the horizon was already only contoured and spread as if darkness at night swallowed the remains of every sand stream.

Anahita seemed to be able to tighten her chest to that sight, which she did not know how many times she had repeated.

I'm just protected. All I can do is stare at the death of a man, a woman, or a family. I even felt like I was sending myself to the dead.

Anahita is not so blunt that she doesn't think it's ugly.

But this is the only way the Buryeags could live.

I don't have trouble with water because I have anahita. There is also force because of the power of birth. A long history gave the art of overcoming the sand stream.

But that's all they were after. In order not to be targeted, not to buy resentment, I went for peace. Melted.

But that was to continue to endure.

Anahita drops off the remains of her family, praying deeply and deeply. That was the only thing I could do.

The next morning, the boat regiment had moored in a sand stream near the home of the Pabil tribe, pouring water into a small oasis where Anahita was dying under the guard of the foremen.

Although he was a keeper who was pressing for and participating in the disease for an interpreter, the secret drug passed on to the Pavil tribe alleviated the disease, even if it did not heal.

Still, the laziness of the body does not escape, so he was drawing the Pavilion tribe, bringing it to rest in the snow and white in the shadow of the great rock.

Then the Queen of the Pavilions approached.

Even when it comes to queens, it is a tribal society, so it is closer to such things as chiefs and chiefs.

"Child, I want"

"Hmm?... Oh, brokering with the men? You can't do this now."

For the Pavilions, who are strong enough, the Buddhists suspected that the strength of the Buryeags would be enough for their son-in-law, but said that would not be possible while they were killing each other until yesterday.

"No. Yours."

The collector got pompous. First of all, I've never been in love with a woman I met at first sight.

Snow and white were also pompous in the back, and Azlona was tilting her neck small if she didn't understand.

"White and beautiful, you are the one who trusts. Words, I'm not serious."

White and beautiful, you mean snow and white, and nasty means spiritual magic.

Snow White was at war this time because it was a battle while defending the Caveman and Azrona, but its strength seems to have frightened the Pavilions. Without water, you would die, otherwise you could attack.

Hearing the queen's words, oh and the keeper was convinced.

Instead of love, love doesn't even matter. Thorough realism made us choose our collectors. A man with something we don't have.

Regardless of the upper body as a collector, the lower body is the problem. And even though it was war, it killed the Buryeag men, who still had a lump in the emotional half scorpion.

"... you can't"

"I can't? I can even interact with people's men"

Apparently, she interpreted the word impossible as a physical impossibility, and the queen did her hand slightly below the junction between the upper body of a person and the lower body of a scorpion, showing off.

Apparently there's no shame at all either.

"... hide at least"

A queen with a face that doesn't make sense.

Perhaps there is no such thing as shame because of a group of females that it is not an exaggeration when it comes to Amazones. If the collectors weren't for the Buryeag, and there was no snow and white, it was likely full of them in many ways.

"You hide the routine at least and show it when it's here. Not a bad exposure, though."

With that said, he drew the queen, adding dancer-style and bikini-armor-style costumes there, and showed them.

The Queen takes a serious peek at it.

"Clothing? Necessary?

The Queen did not seem to understand much, but the subtle philosophy of the Caveman influenced the Pavilion culture.

Because of the shame in the first place, I only wore a truly minimal amount of clothing, a desert dancer-style costume wearing mighty Warcraft material after this, but it was shocking to the Pavilions that that only then did the man eat better.

Pavilion dancer.

More than a hundred years from now, it will become so. You think you left a legend on the stage, and even on the sleeping table?

A few days later, the sandboat rode the sand stream again.

The disease was finally on its way to comfort, and the possessor thanked his body for the first time in a long time with no chills or cares.

So, somehow I thanked Snow White and Azrona for nursing the zodiac, and tried to stroke their necks and cheeks, but the Snow Whites flee only as close as they approached.

"Hmm? Are you in a bad mood?

Snow White peeled his fangs and roared at the answer, which was so unpredictable.

The collectors don't even know what it means, they try to get close again, but the snow whites turn that way and stay away.

"... oh well. Do you smell it?"

No matter how dry the desert is, the treasurer has been in heat for about ten days and is sweating. Different smells such as sweat and dirt and body odor were creeping up. It can't even disappear where I wiped it somewhat.

Because I have lived with the habits of the collector, it seems unbearable for Snow White and Azrona to like it beautifully.

The treasurer smiled bitterly when he saw the snow whites pointing at him and guessed so.

Snow White just asks him to go fast, and he starts cleaning the bunk of the bunk that was turning into a fountain bed.

Though it was as if, the collector left the boat and headed toward the hot boat.

A hot boat is a boat in which a whole boat is bathed, basically, when it is hot during the day, it accumulates heat with stones of a nature that are prone to accumulate heat, takes it in at night, waters it down and is a sauna.

In addition, Anahita had prepared water to wash her body for the Buryeag men, who were always bloody sweaty and sandy. Naturally, women can also enter, but without the culture of mixed bathing, the time of use is determined by men and women.

"... Sabu"

Late night is also late night, when it is coldest. The collector meets in front of his jacket and heads for the hot boat with his best early feet through the darkness. The stones tend to get cold this time of year, with very few people and no need to hesitate.

It was a long time since he could shed his body, and the collector took off his work clothes at the stripper while singing nose songs and other things in the dark, and opened the bathroom door.

I had a client.

Its contours and skin were blurred in the eyes of the collector, who was almost in a state of bright darkness, but whose eyes had become bright at night only a few moments before coming here.

Feminine curves with light dark skin and stunning limbs coexisting with leopard-like suppleness. There is no muscle that stands out because it compensates for its power with magic, but the wild power hidden within it is smudged.

It was Nirufal.

- Looks like you're feeling better.

Nirufal cared about the body of the zodiac, as if he didn't care at all about what the zodiac had seen.

I can also say that I know that the collector's eyes are barely favorable, but for Nirufal, this has been something I've been prepared for since I became a bowman. Because a woman wants to do a man's job, I can't say that I'm embarrassed by this. If you are going to kill your people with shame, it is the end of the line.

Unlike such a masculine, no warrior-like Nirufal, the collector had not turned a blind eye, but had stared. It seems strange when it comes to the fact that it seems like a collector, but when it is made so prestigious, the collector seems to be inferior.

"... sorry"

The collector manages to get out of sight while saying so, but Nirufal stopped it as he hid his body with a cloth that was nearby.

"It's a sickness. Wash your body. Even so, it's already out of cold, just flush it."

The hot boat had already gone cold. But Nirufal, who bathes in water in such a chilled sauna, is also too manly in vain.

"... Probably still here. You just have to keep warm."

Looking just as cute as this is, the collector barely found the fire elf in the pile of stones where the heat had almost escaped, handed over enough magic to be considered excessive and heated the stone again.

In this desert, where the Spirit can only describe it as rough, burning stones with fire elf magic on nights that are inherently devoid of fire elves is taken by about half, even with the magic of the treasurer.

The collector sprinkled the heated pile of stones with the usual water and produced steam.

White smoke erupted all at once, and Nirufal, just right in the rapidly rising temperature bathroom, also made his eyes black and white.

"... weren't you a sand magician?

"Oh, speaking of which, you barely use sand. Apart from being usable or not, I can handle fire, wind, and darkness besides sand. It's about darkness, ice, and sand that you can use to fight."

Confirming that the bathroom temperature had risen, the builder tried to leave the bathroom. I don't have the courage to be here forever, no matter how the collector is one step ahead of the porn demon.

"... it is not good for the disease to hit back. Warm up."

Nirufal said so, distracted by the hot white smoke that would soon stand up. It's not a colorful story, it's just that it's more efficient.

If you say so, there's no way the basically sloppy keeper could turn it down, and the keeper flushed his body with water, then hid his lower body with a cloth and sat next to Nirufal a little further apart.

Immediately, silence flows.

There are two men and two women alone in the sauna. But it can't even be a colorful development for two people who always collide. Not to mention the opponent is that nirufal.

"- Let me thank you for your time with the Pavilions."

From the collector's point of view, there was discomfort, such as Nirufal allowing the opposite sex to be alone in the sauna, but I was convinced with this word. He wanted to thank you.

"... no. I didn't make it."

Even though he slept sick, both of them died in the meantime.

"You don't have to feel responsible. We've been killing each other before. Reconciliation with the Pavilions was right. Otherwise, we and our descendants would have killed each other forever in the future."

As the collector searched for words, Nirufal went on even further.

"If, hypothetically, I kept quiet that I could understand the words, that's what I despise. Oh, it's our way of life. That is why no one blamed you. Be more proud." Thou hast saved our children. "

Maybe it is. If they say so, that's the right thing to do.

But I wasn't convinced by the collector.

"... why do you get that far?"

- That's how we live.

The collector is still not convinced by words that are too terminal.

You noticed the sign, Nil-Fall went on further.

"Master Anahita wants peace, and we want it again. But you can't live in this desert without bleeding. Swallow and indulge in resentment to minimize it. If it will be a few moments of peace for us, that's fine. Even if that is the peace of equilibrium at stake, it leads to the future"

In this desert with limited resources, there are more things that cannot be cured by discourse. There are very strong ties between tribal units and many chains of resentment spelled out in a long history.

But if you indulge in resentment, there will be less blood.

Distributing water also reduces disputes over resources.

If the feud decreases, so does the resentment.

On the basis of such a long-hearted idea, the Anachta and Buryeag tribes were creating the peace they now have. Whether we were to survive or not, that was the way we lived within that way.

"- Oh, yeah. I'm cured of my illness, and I need you to tell me exactly what you're saying."

The last time I said that, Nirufal left the hot boat.

It was in the extremely poor sight of white smoke in the dark, but the collector falls in love with its hindsight.

Refreshing Nirufal sweaty back and glutes.

Even at this time, the eyes of the collector seemed to be the collector.

But looking at it, the collector was thinking.

The way I lived my life that I created and the Nirufals that are arguably the opposite of it.

I'm not convinced why only the Buryeags have to be hurt.

But I didn't know what Nirufal was trying to say.

After carefully washing his body, the Zao lined up next to Nirufal, who was on night alert, to tell him why he could understand the words of the Pavilion.

Nevertheless, to such an extent that I was born capable of doing so. I don't even have to bother talking about the summons.

"I hope you don't say too much about this. I don't even think there's anything there, just in case."

That being said and the collector spoke, Nirufal looked a little surprised, but that was all.

"... let me only speak to Master Anahita and the chief. … and the ability to translate?"

If you understand the word, you can explore coexistence without antagonism, even if you have dealt with an unknown species.

For Nirufal it seems more than anything, envious.

"- It would be helpful if you interpreted me as you did during the Pavilion tribe while you were there. Other barbarians, no, because there are still a few tribes. Well, I'll be in the next city in a few days. We're gonna be busy."

Nirufal is right, he arrives in a few days in a city called Gazlan.

This was a small oasis, yet breathless trading place for the Alwara.

The convoys were going to be busy conceding water here, selling off the rare material they got, and buying it out, but their plans changed dramatically.

Dust was rising from the gazlan.

The gate is open, from which looters crossed into the tumor lizard enter and exit, carrying loot. treasures, food, and slaves.

Screaming, angry, screaming, roaring, and tumour lizard hissing were echoing from the city.

But a certain tribe came into contact sooner than the Buryeags consulted on whether or not to rescue it.

In front of us, looting is taking place.

The collector stared at it from the top of the boat regiment.

No intervention was allowed.

I can't get my hands on it any more than I'm still in the trouble of the Buryeags. Because there is no second time.

The tribe that came into contact with the flotilla was a messenger of the Arwala tribe.

The messenger raised his name in front of a convoy moored on the boundary between desert and sand currents.

"- Ahmad, the Avagan family of the Arwala, is the son, Garhd. I have a message from the chief."

The messenger is immediately put on the ark, where he meets with the chief.

The two began to say hello there as well.

"First, one. That looting is customary, we do it. I don't need your help."

Visiting the land by the Buryeags was predictable, albeit slightly off day by day, and while they waited for it, their spare time plundered them.

"... if it's in keeping with custom, we have nothing to say"

The chief, Goudals, answered that without changing his complexion. The Gazlan side hasn't even told me to help.

If so, it could not intervene in this desert fashion. No matter, emotions aside, the Goudals won't put it on the table.

"It's quick and helpful to talk. Let's get down to business. I want you to come to Nihafa right away. Speaking of examples, you know what I mean?

That's all I found out about what happened to the Goudals.

"... when"

"About twenty days ago."

Well, the chief replied, packing up the conversation with the messenger.

When the messenger returned, the usurpers also withdrew.

The Buryeags move on to Gazlan's rescue efforts, and the collectors follow suit.

After several healings, he applied first aid to a house demolished by spiritual magic and looked around at the trail of looting.

The door of the house is opened and the slave's mother is sobbing.

The old man, who had lost his fortune, sat down like a jerk.

This time there was someone who died unluckily. But it still subsides within custom, he said. The truth is, I only made a decision to the power of the Alwala people that this city would not retaliate.

You could have saved it if you intervened, so I'm not willing to overload this with what I did, etc. Last time and maybe someone was dead without the knowledge of the collector.

But it was also true that I saw the looting and pretended not to see it.

An old man hits in front of me, a woman is about to be attacked, a child is bullying a child. It is the same as I saw and pretended not to see without doing anything about it.

Although the situation can be different, then where is the boundary between intervention and non-intervention?

If I don't have the strength, I can give up, but I never will. Other than jamcids, guerrilla warfare is possible, perhaps even by one collector, without fighting from the front. I can't do that to annoy the Buryeags if I do that.

I understood that if you wanted to pass me by ignoring cultures and customs in exotic lands, you would also look arrogant.

Then what do I look like now?

I didn't even want to look in the mirror.

Nirufal, Farood and Maryam were staring at the figure of such a collector.

That's okay, I can't even tell you if my mouth is torn. It is only a product of compromise that if it is usurped in accordance with custom, it will not intervene, first of all the Alwara Avagan clan does not need to be usurped.

The Nirufals also knew that they did not intervene and that it was never something they could be proud of.

A skirmish, which occurs in peace where a dangerous equilibrium has been maintained. Necessary evil.

I can't even say that.

But Nirufal's marriage was also dead with it.

I can't say enough about necessary evil, etc. But we have to overlook it.

That was the plunder for the Nirufals.

The convoys left Gazlan the next morning.

In the meantime, Snow White flies out of the Boats.

I didn't feel right overlooking that loot with Snow White.

The weak die.

That is the code of nature, but the society of the knower of snow and white never made it good. Even if it was superficial. Maybe this is the influence of the collector, but Snow White thought so.

This time, the treasurer flourished.

So did Snow White, and Azrona.

But I can't help being frustrated.

Finally, it was stressful.

With the speed of snow and white, we can also afford to catch up on sandboats that go more than twice as fast as we normally do.

Now he had overcome both sand illusions and mirages, allowing him to enter and leave the world of sand streams and deserts freely. Unlike jamsides, snow and white have a skin membrane to glide through the sky, or you can run a few steps over the sand stream. One snowflake would have been free to come and go through the desert and the sand streams.

You can't go back west. I didn't even think that snow and white could beat the mighty warcraft that caused that sandstorm.

While contemplating measures against Jamsid, Snow White went beyond the sandstream to the desert wondering if there was anything interesting or a strong warcraft, where he was to meet unexpectedly.