Even that day, the killings continued endlessly.
Heart squeezes and breathes faster at the density of signs of Reaper.
The uncertain vision stumbled at the boy's feet, pulling him into an unexpected muddy (muddy) position the next moment he avoided the lying corpse.
Poor dry land called Hendo was soaked like rain that day.
Of course it wasn't rain or anything, it was the blood and body fluids of the dead that emitted a raw odor.
Unexpectedly swallowed the leaked voice, and the boy rolled over trying to throw himself to his instincts.
A giant stone rubble (crumbling) passes along with the roar of the wind just after the place with its head.
The power of the Grey Monkey (Makaku) tribe, a lustful ape that invades and storms people's land, is terrifying, and the stone debris sporadically thrown from the woods has the power to turn hardwood round shields into wood dust.
Of course, if it had been hit, the boy's head would have burst like a melon.
While rolling, he rises and manages to chase it to the backs of his fellow men, who are about to fall off. People, including boys... The Miscellaneous soldiers of Rag Village lined up the spears they erected and got to hit them in a mass battle.
The human race is clearly weak compared to the sub-tribes with excellent physical abilities.
Without the wisdom to fight in groups rather than individually, we would not have been able to beat subhuman hands better than physical abilities.
"Show him the pride of the rug. Heh!
The boy was in a cadre of five people and aimed at the foot of the enemy as a division of roles. Neighbors are pointing their hearts and spears up and aiming at their lungs or heart. It was an upward and downward bunk with no escape from jumping or kneeling.
What they targeted were warrior-class grey monkeys (macaques) who stormed the battlefield alone. In response to his intent to kill, the Ash Monkey Clan has slapped the stone axe in his hand.
On the verge, the tips were swept away from each other, and the two upper-targeters took their bodies from spear to spear. The other three thrust through the body of their falling companion.
Using all the momentum as a force, the boy speared into the stiff haired tibia of the Grey Monkey Clan.
The boy forcefully orbited and threaded inside his leg to try to distract the tip with rigid bristles as hard as wire becoming a natural defense. As it is, I bump into every body ready to die.
It could be inferred from the feeling of the meat coming through that he succeeded in the attack, but he becomes the entanglement of his disturbed and falling companions and takes his hands off the spear.
In the next moment, when he understood he had lost his gains, his body regarded the rigorously trained as natural, taking a knife for hips cuts in a flowing motion.
A life-threatening blow pokes up the throats of a disfigured and cancerous Grey Monkey clan.
Men other than the boys were chasing each one with their eyes running blood. The grey monkey clan, which was overwhelmed with so many deep hands in the blink of an eye, wielded its long monkey arms muzzled with a roar that its eardrum seemed to tear nearby.
(I don't know...!)
Still, it didn't reach the fatal wound.
Like a frog kicked over by a careless child, the boy's consciousness, lightly jumped by the monkey arms of a rampant enemy, watched the sky and earth turn again and again as if it were other personnel.
The light twilight sky, which is plunging into the evening, shines in a light pearlescent color. They're about half an hour past the start of the fight.
The boy, dancing a few moments like eternity into the limbo sky, slightly slammed to the ground, while rolling a mess...... still thought like any other HR.
The smell of blood behind the nose and the smell of soil and grass. I understand my body, which in an instant became like a blubber, and at last I accept the light and subsequent death. Because it was just a denial by the winner to wait for those who became immobile on the battlefield.
(... I'm hungry)
The boy snapped as he cared about his stomach, which was too empty to even remember the pain.
I can't handle weapons satisfactorily, I can't kill enemies, I can't hit useless miscellaneous soldiers, I can't eat satisfactorily, etc. It's the same thing everywhere in a village on the edge of the soil that is forcing the food situation.
(... rice balls (...) are eating)
The boy swallowed overflowing nosebleeds, somehow unaware of the meaning of the words that came out. Even my blood was a precious food for hunger.
The rice balls were eaten before he died... and the boy felt like he knew somehow to say it was good food with a good stomach.