Different worlds of the last heaven and knights of the fist.

- Time goes back to the point where the two friendly people broke up.

Reaching the idle "toilet" according to the guidance indications, Sabel dropped off Julie's back as she went in for a small run.

(I wonder if the tea sounded at lunch)

And I laugh bitterly as I lean against the wall.

She had a cold tea (freedom of change) that was a specialty of Badalnoise. Heso and raw legs are rounded out in the first place, so if you are exposed to outside cold air after all that ingestion, it will be fine, etc.

If I had been drinking Sabel, I might have rushed into the neighborhood for the same man by now.

(I can't believe the smell of Enmerife is on my nose...)

There's no particular reason, but it hasn't worked since I was a kid. This herb, by the way, is not something I have a special habit of. Expensive but commonly distributed material, so much so that Sabel has never met a human being who doesn't like this besides herself.

- And so on, right after I thought about something that really didn't matter.

"Dear Sabel Alhano...!

Approached by a small run was a young man who looked like a museum official. He looks like he's in a strange hurry, and if he does, he's letting his breath bounce.

"Master Lugo Aliumi has arrived"

"Hmm? Ahhh, whoa. Right."

At the same time that I think it's earlier than planned, I laugh internally that I don't have to bother to come to the discipline to let you know.

but officials inherited words that they would not anticipate.

"So, uh... he's here for you. I need to talk to you in a hurry."

"What?

"It's a matter of contending for a moment. I'll show you around, so follow me. Here it is!"

Shortly after I say something, the officials will rush back the way they came.

"Oh, come on!

Wait a minute, he won't stop talking.

"Damn......!

Sabel glanced back at Lavatory, a place reserved for women.

I thought I'd at least call Julie inside. I tried to call from the entrance and exit because there was no way in, but there I was hacked. If she had any other users, it would be annoying to shout out. Sabel Alhano is a gentleman who needs to be taken into account even in an emergency, even though it may be an unnecessary care if he thinks about the desertion of the museum today.

Would it be best to rendezvous with the shield for a moment and skip communication later on to Julie?

The young man, who had so concluded, rushed out after the back of a man who was already about to turn the corner ahead.

The reverse walk out of the prescribed directions was slightly distracted by the fact that it was in the museum, but I would divide it from an emergency there. Yeah, and the staff are all sick, so there's no choice.

"Dude, you've been ahead of me for a long time...! What are you going to do if you lose it?"

I started following the attendant a little late, so the distance was still quite open.

The corridor laid with hard stones is a killer landscape without any noticeable features, and if you do poorly, you must not notice a grand tour of the same place.

Fortunately, however, the aisle is the main road. Though there were many corners to bend, it didn't seem like I was going the wrong way.

"Slightly."

A branched passage appeared at the thought arrow tip, but in the middle of one of them sits a familiar sign that says' No access due to the preparation of the exhibition hall '. And the male staff ran ahead as a matter of course.

"Oh, come on, can I just go ahead, too?

Nevertheless, I can't help but say follow me.

Sabel hurries her legs even further, reducing her distance from the staff one by one. Countless corners turned and eventually caught up with his back shortly after entering a dimly large room.

……

First, Sabel frowned when she entered the room.

Unfamiliar exhibition room. Looks like this is the first exhibition room in the west wing being prepared.

Sounds like a pretty big rectangular space to me. The installation of a number of glass exhibition boxes that reach up to the ceiling side by side has resulted in a bundled trail.

Dark and obscure as to whether he was deliberately squeezing the number of lights, but inside the glass seemed to rest weapons such as swords, spears, and shields. The Katana-like sword is also decorated as seen in the third exhibition room of the east wing.

Anyway, one inexplicable thing.

"... Hey, what's up?

Sabel spoke to an official who stood up with his back to us in the center of the room.

In the first place, I caught up with him because he stopped.

"Are we good here? Where's Lugo?

Answer the call, he turns around.

"………………………………"

Oops, and wet noise. Blood overflowing from the official's mouth and pulsating beneath his chin.

Stunning eyes. But that look doesn't show anything already.

As if to prove it - his neck, dripping off.

tons, and a head rolling on a soft carpet. And a massive red fountain blowing up from your neck that has replaced you to the top of your body.

The flesh, which has lost its support of life, leans and falls as it punctuates the surrounding glass and carpet with an ever-blacker splash.

Distracted by the tragedy, a shadow moved in the corner of Sabel's vision.

Sabel not flying big, silver blunt light flashing through the space where its neck was until just before. The low wind-cut sound and the heavy sound of officials falling and lying on their torso alone were at the exact same time.

It jumped out of the shadow of the exhibition shelf pretty much slashed me, its shadow.

Appearing across a lying neckless corpse was a man who covered his head from tip to foot without a neighborhood with a black monochrome robe with no ornaments.

At first glance, the gender seems unknown, but from his physique and exposed angular jaw tips, he can clearly tell he's a man.

The object I gripped with both hands was a thick sword with a thickness and width, which was very similar in shape to the wax and scarecrow. He swung it all over his blood, in a robe bearing his right shoulder.

"Whoa. You've been a long time apart before I saw you for just an hour, Lugo"

When Sabel taps lightly, looking at his opponent without alarm,

"Vain... vain things da"

The black robe squeaks at me. It was a low, somewhat hard to hear voice.

A vomited dialogue is when its exposed mouth rises all the way up on the back.

"Twenty years and a little, eh? This guy also has a de-stacked teta history right here from birth teta tada. That's not gonna end all of a sudden today. Teh, I don't even imagine teh. No charge."

on a black robe poking a staff member's body with his toe as he said,

"You must have finished it."

Sabel throws an unscrupulous reply.

"Yes da"

On the other hand, the opponent grins enough to rip,

"Let's stack it up for free, that's it. The moment when you break down a pillar named Life, the moment when you carve 'Wounds' is fun without a tatter -"

The man in black goes on like a solitaire, shaking his body like a cramp.

"Neck. To break a person's history, you are sure to drop your neck da. I'm honest, I'm tired of snapping my neck. Finish this guy, Te, I feel it in my heart. You know Te? When people learn De's fear and pain right now, they vomit. There, Da! Now, what I find fascinating is the moment. He who sprinkles his diarrhea with no eyes, and begs for his life, slaps him in the neck. Then the puking stuff splashes out of your throat. That's not ugly anymore. Spectacular. The better the broken sewer pipes in the Glades look da. Bleeding blood and overflowing stomach contents de, it's already messed up. Until just a moment ago, the meat chunks were so dull, I couldn't believe it."

Line up alone and step closer to Sabel. Flashing a large swing of blade in my hand.

Its beauty, wrapped in black, is like the killer himself appearing in the opera.

"Sabel Alhano, you too da. Morning, noon, soshite Just a minute ago de - no way today, I'm going to die sprinkling dirt from my neck... don't even think about it, huh? Tamaran. You think I'm gonna make it."

A murderer with a nibble of laughter kicks the 'it' that was falling at his feet towards Sabel.

It was the lifeblood of the staff who flew right beside Sabel, who flaunted him.

The look on his face, which looked so wrong, still remained just before he collapsed. I don't know what happened. I stayed stunned.

A man in black, leaping skilfully at such blasphemy towards the dead. I wielded a large, scalloped murder weapon - on its side, a blue and black spark exploded.

"Guh!"

against someone who groans and falls back with a big crotch,

"Whatever."

White smoke from his protruding right fist, Sabel spins flat.

"You have something to explain to me first before I tell you about my special hobbies and make you listen. Who is it, you? Why did you call me up until you used Lugo's name?

Lights. On both arms of Sabel, a flaming fire. Its color, dull dyeing its surroundings, is blackened purple.

"This is your last conversation, pervert blackcape... why don't you name it after me"

Sabel Alhano is never on the side of justice.

A stranger is murdered, and he doesn't burn in righteousness. No matter how disturbing your mind is with such a 'common thing', you can't live. To that extent, the thing about the outside world, which had lost its homeland and was thrown out undeniably, was harsh.

But 'common' is why I know.

that evil exists in the world until it is difficult. That there exists a genuine 'culprit' that could wield a catastrophe if not eliminated on the spot.

At the very least, so that the victims can sleep in peace, so that those who suffer from their poisonous fangs do not reappear. And to protect myself and my dear woman.

"Leave it in my ear about the name. Your body, which is going to be charcoal, will have nothing left if it blows in the wind...!

Be fierce.

Young people with two names: "Purple Phosphorus Wisteride" do not hate to stand up to each other.

"Purple Flame...... I see, Da as I hear it. Funny."

Purple lights in Sabel's arms. The figure of a murderer illuminated by its sway adds more creepiness.

"-Aldomirar. That's my name, Da. of those who break your life...... name da"

Flash the sword in your hand. Aldomirard taps the peak into the nearest exhibition box. A fragment of broken glass dances along with a deafening sound. And

"Show me the scratch teh..."

A breeze that follows a faint word and occurs without touching forward. The brilliance of a piece of glass that builds on that momentum and tries to save it and kill it in one go.

"Hi, I don't think I agree with you."

The young man of the flames discards as he sprinkles with a blade of transparency, large and small, a swirl of purple that expresses all of it.

"You don't have to scratch me, Aldomirard. I'm keeping my girlfriend waiting."