Different Worlds Slow Life Beginning as a Blacksmith

There is a castle in the deepest part of the demonic realm ruled by the demons. Its castle, located in the deepest part of the demonic kingdom, is of course the castle of the demonic king, the demonic king. In the deepest part of it, that is, between the thrones of the Demon King, the two confront each other.

One, a slightly skinny young man who gives a peek at the strength of his core. He is wearing a silver armor, and still has a silver long sword in his hand.

It is called the "brave man" where the world is told.

The other is a lady with a beautiful appearance, but her head had horns like sheep, wrapped around a robe with a disastrous atmosphere. A fine sword with a black body in his hand.

This is the Lord of this castle, the Demon King, his man.

The two don't exchange words, they put their swords together.

The Demon King accepts the sword of the brave man, who has shaken his momentum, with his sword.

A powerful blow to make you think that if it were a sword of coarseness, it would have been two blades per sword.

The Sword of the Demon King is skinny compared to the Sword of the Brave, but without making him feel the difference in the fineness of his body, the Sword of the Demon King endured.

The two even fly, putting their swords together again.

Now the brave man takes the prick of the demon king by the flank of his sword.

If it were a sword, it would have been pierced from body to body, and the thrust is sharp enough to make you think.

But I accept that the sword of the brave is easy.

I have put my swords together several times, but both names are moves that I have trusted in my gains. While we do that, the colors of confusion begin to float in their faces.

Given each other's position, it had been assumed that the gain would be a specialty that would be passed on more than in the Divine Age.

But on the contrary, it's too strange to be able to endure this much meeting between all those industries. limit (...) degrees (...) over (...) eh (...) and (...) y (...) ru (...).

The confusion passes on to each other, eventually lowering the sword from either side.

"O demon king, I hear things that cannot be done now."

"Uhm, good. 'Cause, brave man, that's probably what I want to hear too."

"Okay, let's ask. Who struck that sword?"

"Again? I want to know who struck that sword too."

"Then again?

"Um, definitely the person your Lord imagines. It's what's gonna be that bigoted blacksmith's hand."

With that said, the Demon King pointed his sword patterned head at the brave. There is an engraved figure of a fat cat sitting there.

"Again, well, that O..."

That's what the brave man said, pointing the patterned head of his sword at the demon king. It has the same engraving as that of the Demon King.

"He probably struck a sword against both sides in anticipation of this happening. You can't eat at all."

"That's no use at all."

"Hmm. If one of you runs out of health, that means..."

"I've figured it out before. You and I have each other."

"So, I guess. So even if one of them wins, then it's better to be exhausted. It doesn't make sense."

"Well, that's one answer.

"I know the phase. At least I swear to God I will cease the war."

"I'll tell that jerk, too, okay?

"Uhm. Tell A (...) Les (...) not to buy the unhappiness will be the biggest deterrent to each other. It's the hardest part of buying an unhappiness and being put on the other side of your shoulder. I don't mind."

"Then let me do that. Sometimes we'll see each other at something, but until then, goodbye."

"I understand. Well, I have to be ready to touch it too..."

That's how they leave the spot opposite each other.

There is no longer a strained air when first confronted, and as the relaxed air flows, the contrasting two think of the faces of the same person.

I don't know what to say at first glance, some old man's face.