Fukushuu Kansuisha no Jinsei Nishuume Isekaitan

255 ◇ Miserable dramatic poison, the Mother of Mercy as divine love, the erosion of the

Arildent was looking at one soldier.

A soldier from the Royal Daltra Army. He is one young man dressed in military uniform. Around the age I was in my early twenties, middle meat and back. Equipment is standard for that. Except for the semblance, anyone who can be called a weapon is about a sword. There is no magic appliance.

Besides attacking the labyrinth to secure the original, it is possible to manufacture artificial magic equipment, but not suitable for mass production.

At least not in the existing way. What can be made of artificial magic implements, assuming they have been made, is until the reproduction of the 'effect'. The world bears the magic necessary for the original to perform, but not when it is artificial. You mean you won't be bothered until the replica?

Anyway, that's why it's basically useless to let Arclair locals have artificial magic equipment.

Then we'll talk about the original, but this is worth a thought. I mean, it actually incorporates both Arksbaona and the enemy.

It's just that all the soldiers who were peacefully bogged down compared to the reincarnators who usually send battles and adjacent routines are Trojans. That's why I conclude that it's better to let the attackers who can be deployed there have it.

As a result, the use of the creature 'soldier' is very much the same as when it was born. Equipment is defined for each role and is uniformly wrapped around it. The flock of ants is as indistinguishable as it is. More proficiency as a group is required than individual combat power.

It's actually a pain in the ass when there are a lot of them, and if they're not wizards for the rest of the time, there will be a shooting leak that will allow them to approach.

A thousand heroes, like repeating the war situation individually, are not. That said, there are quite a few heroic standards close to it in this world in this day and age, and the number of "Wizards of the Aftermath" is not advantageous for ten or twenty. Just that, too, is still low in percentage terms. One in a hundred reincarnated...... no, one in a thousand or ten thousand. I hear that's about it. In fact, there are times when color attribute holders are not confirmed.

This is a particularly strange time, and this is also rare for all non-standard warriors to gather on the same battlefield.

The word "genius" does not differ greatly from the word "hero standard". Definitions loosen with each passing hour. In recent years, some people have been celebrated as heroes because of the state's structure. How many truly deserve to be called heroes.

"Heroes of Misery" Arildent-Fashy Gallon doesn't consider himself a hero. That's why I'm not going to despise myself, nor do I find this title horrible. I got it because it's convenient. That's about it.

In fact, Arildent can't even be said to be strong in flattery. The correction of the flesh can only be described as subtle, and the magic power is considerable but the aptitude magic attributes are few.

He's tall and has long arms, but he creeps up because of his broken body. He strokes his black purple hair behind him with glossy hair conditioning. I have a habit of licking my lips, which is often described as also being like a snake.

He is a hero of the Hero Brigade.

As in 'miserable poison', what Arildent deals with is poison.

'Poison' belongs to 'earth'. Whatever the advantages may be, a mere 'cure' would not be advantageous. Poison death rises to the top with the cause of death of those challenging the Labyrinth Attack. What is commonly referred to as healing attributes enhances versatility and practicality, and strengthens a person's ability to self-repair. I can't handle poison with this. Not only the poison, but also the presence of foreign objects in the body, for example - bullets and other biological parts of demons - cannot heal magic until it is removed or disassembled. We need to put together a magic formula like that separately or remove it ourselves.

If you are a good attacker, it also hangs on your resistance to poison, so you can put together a magic formula before you die. If you're halfway there, you suffer long enough to die. Of course, depending on the type and quantity, the poison works well for the reincarnated.

Still, if this is a labyrinth attack, there may be people selling antidotes in the nearest settlement to the city.

Have an excellent 'cure' or antidote. Either of them will be necessary. Color attribute holders, starting with 'black', are the exception. They solve it with substandard responsiveness.

Even in this world where magic exists, an assassination group called poisoning has long been used. Arildent, while belonging to the brigade, also had a hand in Jeanne. Thanks to the poison she made, there are also many more types of poison that Arildent magically purifies. I killed many and many people.

I like it.

A human face distressed by pain.

bitterness, scratching his throat and chest, pampering his mouth like he wanted oxygen, and paling his complexion. Sometimes blue-white, bright-white, blue-purple, earthy. The change is dramatic and very pleasant.

Arildent has no heavy past. Many reincarnators with a large and tragic past, but not all of them. Unhappiness is just what we feel.

Obviously unhappy in anyone's eyes, it would be unhappy if even the person suffered something that could not be said.

Arildent was a past student and a military doctor. It is always to the death to be carried. The heroes of a nation who killed their enemies for the sake of your country and suffered a painful counterattack. He encouraged patients and did everything in his power to tackle treatment. The time is right when patients are on their way to recovery and can turn to gratitude and trust. We get along enough to start telling stories about loved ones and things about ourselves, and then we poison them. The complexion that stains despair when you realize you've been bewildered or betrayed is the best (...) than simply killing. Because of the sharp discrepancy, the feeling was out of step.

I've been doing well for a while. I was going to save it in moderation and kill it in moderation. But gradually the toothpick stopped working and the balance broke down. I killed more, and the last one killed all of them. Around the time I lay my hands on a friend of mine who had doubts about me, I was exposed and tied up. As a result, he is sentenced to death. Arildent wanted to be poisoned, but was executed by gunfire. As loud as I thought it sounded, I died without suffering much.

Arildent regretted it until he was on the verge of being killed. Oh, I should have contained myself more. Or I should have kept a hand-wound. I wanted to kill more. I could have killed him. Not enough. I want to see more. I'd like to see more distorted faces of all humans. I still want to feel better. Not filled. Still thirsty. I wanted it, I thought. I want it. That's a terrible story. Totally unreasonable.

Would there be such misfortune?

Even though I can still live and kill people.

Life closes just because you hit it badly.

As a result, Arildent was given the next chance.

- Yay! I can kill him again. He rejoiced.

I belonged to the brigade because as long as I respected my people, you could do whatever you wanted if you didn't even kill your allies. Not only that, but the spirit of mutual assistance helped. He gives me a hand, free of charge, when I have any problems. Same here, but not a great deal of hassle if you think of the benefit.

There's no shards or interest in every family, but there's no disgust. Arildent learned. Alone, it's hard, everything. The need for understanders and collaborators had been felt by students in the past.

Especially in an environment that is undeniable after grasping my preferences, I was comfortable. Sometimes I imagine what would happen if I killed one of my people, but I'm not going to transfer it to execution at the moment.

If sooner or later you're not happy with a normal kill, or...

"What do you say?

No, let's not. Now we should focus on what's right in front of us. It's a waste if you don't.

Arildent looked up to a larger percentage of the crumbling stone walls and sat back on it. It's not a big deal to say, but that's just fine. When you sit down, you will see a soldier who has bowed to his knees. Exciting. How exciting is it enough to make me play a phonetic sound to the feeling of wackwack.

"Ah, crap, gu," he begins where he groans and pales his face, eventually attempting to breathe in search of oxygen with "Kohiu... hiu". Even if I know that's for nothing, I can't stop. I can't throw away my obsession with raw. Even if my enemies are watching me die, I'm trying to live ugly. Even though it's useless.

Cocksucking, the pleasure rushes from foot to brain. It's paralyzing pleasure. I'm so freaked out already. Arildent soaks in bliss with a tranced look on his face. Best few seconds. For this reason, there is no need to spare the lives of every person.

"Is it painful? Is that painful? Does anyone love you, by the way? Imagine her, no, I don't mind him, but your loved ones are waiting for you to return. I hope he comes back healthy. That's lovely. You want a hug, don't you? - It won't happen again."

At the earliest, there is no anger in the eyes of the soldier. Just despair. Dyed to despair. Myself. This alildent-fucking-gallon.

"Hey, and you're not dying inside. Looks like someone with bones."

This was something Arildant used to say when he killed. I'm just deliberately prolonging it, but I shrug admirably. This is the key. Don't make me think it's an act.

Remove the vial from your pocket.

"Do you know what this is?

A young man is staring at Arildent as he scratches his sweat.

"It's an antidote. One, if you answer my request, I'll give it to you."

loose, a stray arises in his eyes. At the same time, hope. I can't help you anyway. So where I give up, the thread of salvation drips. Suspicious no matter what. If you jump, you'll cut it. But, but I can't give up.

People are weak.

"Betray Daltra and come to Arksbaona. Our army needs a soldier of tough spiritual strength and flesh like you. Well, that's not a bad story, is it? Just snort and you can live."

Soldiers fighting for their country? How many people on earth would have true loyalty, etc. Where I nurtured how order can move, where I taught how to be righteous, people are people.

Before the fear of death...