Darenidemo Dekiru Kage Kara Tasukeru Maō Tōbatsu

I didn't like that I couldn't do anything.

The freedom given was too much power compared to what Spica had until then.

Nothing imposes constraints on Spica Royle already. Therefore, it is not 'I couldn't' but 'I didn't' get down to Spica Royle.

When I lived as an orphan, the church assigned me a job. I'm glad I just did that, but there's no one in Spica right now to assign such a job.

No, if I may be precise - there are those who assign. It's just that Spica is no longer satisfied with that.

Levels increased and physical abilities increased. It's easy but I learned the sacred art.

However, whenever more can be done, it is a sense of impatience that has occurred within the spica.

Growing. But there are only those who are far above themselves. That brings up Spica's own helplessness.

In the Euthis tomb, it remained protected. On the first day, I had a fellow who would be hurt for the 'assignment' waved by a spica I had just met. On days two and three, the Fujido and the others grew, but of course the Spica grew, but you wouldn't say it helped.

And a report to Gregorio Leggins. Spica finally understood when she saw the beaten, lying rattan on the floor.

Just the difference between who you can only tremble and who you can stand up to.

Age. Gender. Born. Experience. There are many factors, but it was just emotions that were in the spica at that time.

Against myself - anger without letting me do it. Even if we spent a few days together, the remorse of watching my companion dive into a dangerous grave for himself just fall in silence.

I should have moved. Even if we lost, if there was nothing we could do, we should have stood up. Perhaps the vast majority of humans say it's a mistake, it's pointless. I would say that I have no choice.

But still, I should have stood. Not for your people - for yourself, which is nothing else.

Because - there's no point in justice without power.

Still, without the subject of comparison, Spica would have followed the Fujido and the others as they were.

But "Fortunately," Spica had someone to set an example for.

Spica understood such a change in herself, that emotion she had never noticed before.

In short, Spica Royle only became a little greedy - knowing the reality - of a world she'd never seen before.

"Well, then, to me... Sister Spica, you are very different."

And as a result of what I asked for, I have a man in front of me.

Gregorio Leggins. The harshest of Spica's knowledge - the monk (Priest).

Gregorio looks at Spica with a calm eye as if that look a few days ago was a lie.

The back of his gripped hand, put on his knees, was trembling. But still, Spica's eyes firmly look up at the boy in front of him.

Despite his appearance age, which is almost no different from that of Spica, and despite being a monk, the man who unilaterally beat down and showed the three Fujido men who defeated countless undead.

Don't let the stormy wave of emotions feel fine dust, tell Gregorio to teach in a calm voice.

"Sister Spica. Let's pay tribute to that courage. And I have a duty to answer that. Sister Spica - If you want to teach, Ares Crown is better than me."

"Why...?

To Spica's inquiry, Gregorio gave a thin grin with his jaw in his hand.

"Because it's safe, Sister Spica. My trials will die if they fail. [M] This is... not a joke or anything. Every power has a price."

The voice had a unique awesomeness when it came to telling the truth. Slightly atrophied by the voice, but soon Spica shrugged.

"... not Mr. Ares."

"Hmm. How could that be?

"Mr. Ares... because he's sweet"

He got me some gear. He also raised the level. He helped me wipe the fear of the undead, and he taught me the sacred art. It gave me numerous things. Thank you for that, if not enough.

Gregorio's expression slightly changed in the words he uttered to Spica's floating expression. My lips, my eyes twist joyfully.

"Excellent, Sister Spica. Its will to stand up to the test itself is noble and irreplaceable. Look at me, look at me. I'm the only one who comes to me. How many monks (Priests) can do that?"

"No... it's not a good thing, Mr. Gregorio"

……

Spica jerks off the fine workmanship of the balance cross lowered to her chest. I haven't even taken the exam yet, I don't even have a proof of the lowest monk (Priest), that's a sign that I'm a spica monk. It is the only sign of the will to become a monk.

Spica lays down her face once and immediately raises it. Transparent grey eyes look up at Gregorio.

"Mr. Gregorio. This must be, will or nothing. I'm sure it's just a desire."

Heartburning agony. Something that Spica didn't have in her life without a goal in a safe world. Something I didn't know. And I can't go back more than I know.

"I'm - I'm jealous. Someone who can fight, someone who can stand up to, someone who can protect, someone who has something to protect."

I want to give, not just be given. It's that kind of desire.

A luxurious desire. It doesn't suit me right now.

I knew it. So reach out. Let's make whatever sacrifice we make for it. I thought so.

I knew it was selfish. Spica was given the opportunity to become a monk because that was what Ares needed. It's too selfish to take it once and rebel it, the act of sanding it with your hind legs.

But still... I have to. It was no longer a desire close to instinct. I will certainly regret it if I do not act. I can clearly see that.

So again, Spica made it clear.

"Mr. Gregorio, make me your apprentice."

Gregorio's grin disappears into those words with a small, but spica sense of universality.

Gregorio's arm stretched stroked the pandora beside him.

"Sister Spica. Do you know how old I am?

"... Huh?

An inquiry that has nothing to do with Spica's wishes. I look at Gregorio's whole body again like Spica was baffled.

Age. I have no idea. Dark eyes on dark hair, its tall height on a slightly youthful appearance. The atmosphere is grown up, but if it just looks like it, it doesn't look very different from Spica. Definitely below Ares and Amelia.

But there's no way. There's no way there's such a person.

Gregorio leaks laughter. A pupil open to excitement quietly observes the spica.

"It was not more than twenty-five years ago that my city was destroyed that I became a heretic exterminator. At the time, I was fourteen years old, thirteen years old and ten months old, to be exact."

"Twenty-five years... ago?

"I won't forget. Oh, I won't forget. Fate Day. I became a heretic exterminator (Crusader) on the day when the whole city was engulfed in flames and the bodies of my friends, my family, and my innocent people piled up with mountains and honorable blood wet the earth. Sister Spica, since that day, I've physically - stopped taking any age. of this world... to destroy all darkness"

It was a ridiculous story. I've never heard anything like that.

But the boy in front of me is serious. I mean it, and I don't think it's surprising that Spica herself is.

Gregorio tells him to whisper. The way it looked, the look on his face, looked like a demon to Spica.

"Sister Spica, let me teach you one thing. You are greedy. Oh, very greedy. But I get it. Feelings of powerlessness, impatience, and despair that overshadow your soul. Sister Spica, what you need most..."

Looks like a demon. It's like that's a devil's whisper. But Spica was convinced that she had pulled the right answer.

I can't imagine anything more efficient to get what Spica wants.

"- I'm ready to kill you all. Sister Spica, you have a lot of good stuff."

Gregorio's eyes are pointed at Spica's hips. There was a single dagger lowered.

A dagger (dagger) made of St. Silver (Mithril) that was lent once and given to Ares when he went to tell Gregorio that he was going to teach him to teach once and for all because he was in the way of sacred art during the trial at the Great Grave, the first night of that day.

Spica pulls out that dagger silently and puts it on the table.

"Ares Crown is really overprotective, and I can understand you relying on me. Sister Spica, this is - a dagger to protect. I bless your safety and future."

The words of Gregorio, which can be conveyed as one, are feverish.

Ares never said anything like that to me when he gave me the dagger, but I can tell it's true.

And Gregorio said with great pleasure.

"But now you - you have to kill everything. To get what you want."

"Huh..."

The spica is small and breathtaking. Spectacular words. It's never a joke or anything.

Understood. Gregorio in front of me is the result. Even if the background was very different, the end point is the same. A man who abandoned everything for whoever he wanted.

Escaping it all the time definitely stops by it.

Gregorio did not wait for Spica's reply. Just confirm that floating look of Spica and nod satisfactorily.

"Sister Spica. Great, let's congratulate you. I promise to make you a fine heretic exterminator."

§

Shining stars in the sky.

Spica didn't know which of the countless stars existed, but Spica knew her name was derived from the name of the star.

Then it must be a star of luck.

I got the right to get it in this world where there are a lot of people who don't even know what I want. Where the hell is more luck than that?

Determine, renew your readiness and look up to Gregorio.

The time is noon. Still no stars floating in the sky, but certainly Spica was feeling that.

[NAME] Spica Royle

[LV] 12

[Occupation] Apprenticeship Monk

[Gender] Female

Ability

muscle strength; not at all

Endurance: Not at all

Agility: Not at all

Magic: Not at all

Divine Power: There is a little

Will: Good luck

Luck: Pretty high

[Equipment]

Weapon: Ares' Dagger (If you work hard, you can swing it. expensive if sold)

Body: Children's coat (good touch)

Accessories: Balanced Cross Pendant (Blessed to Play (Expires))

[After Next Level] 1256

[Special note]

Undead's fine.

There's a place to go home.