Demon Lord, Retry!

- Fortress "Gatekeeper"

A fortress facing the countries of the North - this is the heart of an aristocracy known as the militants.

The man who keeps this fortress was, of course, their allied lord Marshall Arts, the man. He was usually a man who rarely looked like a smile, but only today he has a quiet smile on his face.

"Good back, Sambo"

Surprisingly, as he rose from his seat, he approached Sambo, slapping and embracing both of his shoulders hard over and over again.

Sambo weeps at a warm welcome from the beloved and unstoppable Alliance Lord.

Arts is not his “master”. Though he was only an ally, bringing together nobles facing the countries of the North, the bond was also equal to generations of subordination.

There is only one emotion they have toward Arts - trust.

It is the intangible property acquired by a boneless man named Arts, who has rushed to any predicament and defended their territory near the border without omitting himself.

Being here were men who had fought in painful times, sharing food, sharing salt, keeping their backs, and a group of rocks to the point of being unusual, which no longer swayed small in money or anything else.

In fact, many are disgusted by the corruption in the centre and have already, in their hearts, referred to Arts as their chief. The nobles near the border are all the houses that have been rubbed in the battle against the invading countries of the North, so much sooner to say “martial family” than nobility.

The center does it. It's social, even while they're making noise that it's art. They've defended the front lines and put themselves in battle. It is a word of laughter from them, such as the central absurdity.

At the earliest, when it comes to having to be from them, there is only Arts.

To the trust that comes from those samurai.

A man named Arts has the ability to respond adequately.

I had... I had.

Whatever the will of the person, it can be called a very “dangerous condition”.

"Ah, Lord Arts... I apologize for coming back to this land for so long."

"Say what. I'm just comfortable with you."

"Lord Arts..."

When Arts slammed his hand wide, the door opened and several large barrels of liquor were brought into the room. Arts slaps the thick lid with a knife and plunges the cup into it.

It is not so much a nobleman as a complete samurai figure.

"Let's just celebrate today. To the return of my friend..."

When Arts raises the cup, the men who watched it around him stick the cup into the barrel one after the other, and raises it.

The time was still early, but the room was full of cheers at the same time.

"If Lord Sambo returns, it will be a hundred men!

"Let's just forget the fight and have a drink today!

"The Lord of the Alliance is still looking at me today! Drink as much as you can!

"Lord Sambo, your arms aren't dull. I'll see you later!

A lively feast of men broke out in one of the fortresses, and the messy voices of men echoed.

With the evening approaching, Arts finally returns to his room.

(Madam, or...)

One person in a qualitative room, Arts tilted the glass.

A cup was not enough, two, three cups, and overlap the cup. The joy of a comrade returning and the bitterness of making a debt to a strange opponent.

It was the kind of face I was thinking about how I should handle it.

(Empress in the center... she's a nasty sister)

From the arts, she is the empress of the social world and a foolish sister who leaves out depression in art.

You can call it "nobility” like you painted it.

Arts himself is noble, but his body and mind are the samurai themselves at the earliest. These days I even hold the thought that being called nobility is no longer something to spit on.

Wouldn't it be better if we had a samurai in charge of the symbolic Virgin of the Nation, beneath whom we put our internal and external enemies, and beneath whom we had a people?

That's all that's been on my mind the last few years.

(That said, Sambo's body is heavy...)

He is also supposed to be a militant moodmaker, and there is a big difference in morale from not being around.

Today, it is a mild festival just to say that Sambo is back.

Not very much, but it wasn't a matter that could be cleaned up with a piece of writing or anything.

(What should I thank you for...)

Money, etc., would be the end money from Madame no matter how much Arts scratches.

or so, I don't have a piece of art or anything to Madame's satisfaction.

No, you're not. Arts already has an "answer”.

(… when something happens, it would be to take sides)

It is sometimes a far more onerous demand than money or the like.

Anyway, life is at stake.

(What that sisters lack - it's force)

Arts is right in his mind.

The butterfly sisters have no inherent force.

You can collect as many mercenaries as you want with money, because such things are only roach axes. Grasshoppers are the same in front of the "real soldiers” who made them on the battlefield.

(One more thing - support from the guys)

The idea is also correct.

On the contrary, however, women's support for the militants is also weak.

That is not noble, but barbarian - so much so that there are even those who publicly proclaim that.

(Is that woman even planning a coup...?

The Holy Light Nation is in turmoil now.

Therefore, the thought of Arts also leads me to such a noisy place.

In a way, it was a story that neither thought nor felt compelled to do so. Because I felt that the funds and the force, the men and the women, if they were all there would be “something” conditions.

■ □ ■ □

- Al-Quds

White was consolidating one determination in a room called the "Altar of Prayer" at the back of the Holy Castle. It's - my sister's recapture.

"Earliest, no moment of respite..."

In White's possession was a legendary weapon (legend) called the Omega Cane. This scepter accumulates magic and enables one miracle while also gaining abilities.

It is the instantaneous movement within Holy Light -

It is a miracle business that consumes all the magic accumulated in the sceptre and also uses the magic formations in this room that dramatically enhance the magic of the chanter, making it possible for the first time.

It is naturally the village of Rabbi that White draws on his head.

The demon king finally stripped out his fangs and took in the empress. From White's point of view, the time has passed to be able to observe it at last.

"Dear Angel... give me strength"

We need to recapture Luna, one of the Virgin and dear sister, there's nothing we can do. Whether we fight or negotiate, because we can't even afford freedom of movement while we're being held hostage.

White prays and light overflows from the magic formation.

Originally, numerous escorts can protect the Virgin when she goes outside, but this time alone. At any rate, the opponent was the demon king who also destroyed that demon king.

If you hit it badly, you'll just wind up and increase the number of victims.

"Demon King... I won't let you like me any more." "Angel Leap" "

White's body is wrapped in light, and his body disappears.

When she opened her eyes, there was a village of rabbis that was not what she remembered.

"... Huh?

In her memory, this is a "cold village with nothing".

But in front of me, a large number of humans were moving, lumber, stones, etc. Some have hammers in their hands, others have earthbags.

Civil engineering work enough to change the whole village - it was also extremely massive.

There was also a large mix of wizards inside to see how many humans were employed, even people from special industries specializing in well digging.

Furthermore, more than twenty wizards dealing with 'soil' have gathered to work on whether they intend to build moats or stone walls on all sides of the village.

"Wrong... I can't believe this is happening..."

White plunges into the village and is stunned by the rest.

Seeing the appearance, a rough voice flew from a person sitting on something like a It is Tahara, who is flying directions everywhere with one hand.

"Ooh, there's your sister. Was that the wizard you asked for to use 'light' or something? I'll ask the demon stone there. It's a commercial district, so don't get me wrong.

"Huh... Huh??

"What are you messing with? Mostly, who comes to work in a white dress like that! Hey, are you licking your job? This isn't a ball!

"Huh... Huh!?

"You've got to do it right. Oh, lay that pebble down in the ditch over there. It's going to change."

Without time for White to argue, Tahara turns to other instructions, and the serious White cages the 'light' to the demonic stone.

And then he remembers what he's been up to, and he haps returns to me.

"Why am I doing this...! By and large, who is that abusive person!

"Sister...... why are you here!?

"Luna!?

It is a moving reunion between the imprisoned sister and the sister who has come to recapture it.

But for some reason, the carrot was held in the hands of my sister, who should have been imprisoned, and the magic stone that sparkled in a good way was held in the hands of my sister.