Half-elves Fall in Love

I have few memories of a parent.

Less than 40% of my life. No, is it practically less because I can't help counting the things before I feel comfortable?

In the life that goes on in situations that are not as interesting as they are, the Polka Era has sometimes been let go and happy, and it is a very important memory for me.

But it's a short, limited memory.

Me and my dad were only in a relationship between a kid and a young father, and it couldn't finally be a relationship between me and my subsequent busy father, an adult me and my old father, who started to fade away.

I'm not unusually unhappy. Not even wealthy merchants, carpenters, and blacksmith children cannot return to their parents' locks until they are 10 years old or there politely out and in public, it is nothing unusual or irrelevant.

But anyway, I can't stand the death of my parents, and my memory of being a parent is completely broken by that traveling day when I was 10.

So, there's a part of that Bonaparte old man who was looking at something fatherly.

Yeah, my dad was a gambler and a gullible, a loser with a lot of mess and a bunch of bitter laughter and help all around him and a bunch of nasty guys just getting their asses slapped by their pussies. Actually, it doesn't look alike.

But I feel like I was watching a "then" parent-child conversation with him that I couldn't make happen with my father.

So I didn't want to believe he was distracted.

There must be something.

I'm not profane of a king like betrayal, I don't know but I think there's got to be something behind it.

Of course, there's no way I can do anything on my strength or my identity. I know that very well.

But at least my old man would have known that Lyla and Maia were on his side and that if I wanted to, I could go flying alone anywhere in the trot, and if there was a reason to treat me special, that was all I could think about.

If we could have met and talked, maybe you could tell us what this is all about.

Then I'm sure there's more we can do than that. You want me to stop being weird, or take it for granted?

"... I'd like to bet on that possibility"

"I see."

As we see the dawn from the Blue Snake Mountains on our right hand side, we go through the King's Capital.

"It's cold..."

"Patience, Apple. It's getting a little easier now that the sun's shining."

"There's snow from here on out. The temperature itself still drops."

"Don't bully me too much."

It's not an example of a hand-held carriage, but a flight on Lyla's back, so I can enjoy the cold no matter how much I've worn.

"But it's not that far away when you get here"

"Right."

There is an intermittent city between the king's capital and the sanctuary.

It's called a dormitory town.

In the first place, there is a constant number of pilgrims to the Holy Land, which is a religious base, and along the way there are many lodging towns, not small in size, moistened by their dropping roadblocks.

One of them should also have a rebel sword saint brigade led by an old man.

Or so much as declare and start marching aloud, it won't go any further with Kosovo.

That advance should be readily ascertainable from above.

"Whatever. If you go down to the right place and ask the city folks, they can easily tell you which area you're around right now... I guess"

"Calm for Lyla, that's a solid opinion."

"Ho, ho, ho. I'm not spending time with Dada either. The reason of the world is understandable."

While I'm a little doubtful about Lyla, who has some strangely white attitude, the opinion itself has no fallacy, so I move on to execution.

Even if the Sword Saint Brigade itself has not yet arrived, the rumor transmission speed may exceed their marching feet. Whatever the path of pilgrimage, people keep moving.

"If you're the sword saint, you might be around the pastral by now."

"Pastral?"

"Count from Lycra. It's the third place to stay. I don't fight for nothing, I tell them I'm slowing down on purpose to give poor weak soldiers on the way."

"... thanks"

"You, soldier or something? You better not think about what you're going to do with the Sword Saints Brigade. Many other Grand Sword Saints have lost their arms in the annual wave they stop by, but the Grand Sword Saints still remain in full season. If we're gonna do this, we're gonna have to bring him in overnight from Celesta."

"... yeah. I know."

"Ho, the third lodging?... Yeah, yeah. Right.... um, it's too late to bother wanting Lycra and then turn back. How many lodgings are here, of which, how many are here?

"... Lyla, something's wrong with you"

When I think I've had a strange time, I say something very common sense or solid.

"Do you know how many, don't you?"

"Ah, oh. 13 in all, this is the fifth place from the south... so I guess there are five more places to go to call Pastral."

"All right."

Lyla starts to bulge and wingspan.

...... hmm. Something's wrong.

It's like someone's getting in real time and being wise.

... No way.

As it is, Lyla jumps over the five accommodations in less than an hour and reaches the vicinity of the pastral in question.

... There was certainly an image of a bunch of zealous citizens along the way as a group of old men marched slowly from a grand age wrapped in armor.

"... old man"

It's still Bonaparte's old man who's going with his chest up at the head of it.

Take on the back of the example love sword great sword, wave at the cheering citizens, smile and feel exactly like a hero's solace.

Then he stops and seats the old swordsmen walking behind him somewhat further along, and begins his speech wellside on the road.

"Listen, my beloved people of Trot. Ulysses III is an incompetent man."

"That's right!

"No king!

"... um. Hundreds of Sword Saints died when they drove the former Sword Saint Brigade to destruction with the error of extraction. I also lost my eyes once, my body was half motionless, and I fell asleep. This is Arthur Bonaparte. But still, King Ulysses clings to the throne and continues to reign as a 'king' while most of his kingdom is taken up as a result of drawing on Celesta's officials to take in without shame or outspoken ears and maintain his own vanity"

Slowly expose your eyes of different colors, nod, and then continue the conversation.

"You know, my people of Trot. Is that man a good puppet who is satisfied with the name King itself and remains threaded by the officials of Celesta, and now does nothing but press judgment and wave at festivals, such as the service of the King, and still names the King? Can the kingdom of Trot be under such a king?"

"Not good!

"Defeat the King! Revolution!"

The companions jump out of the settled villagers. Sakura, or the enthusiastic squire you've been following?

But when he nodded satisfied with it, the old man shook up his fist.

"Be proud! Then it is the folk grass of the Trott who grew the most powerful Sword Saint Brigade, the people of Sword Saint Country! I prove it! That Trot's soul is still the same! The most powerful and invincible pride! Condemn the incompetent King Ulysses and once again bear the strongest witness to this Northwest Plain!

"Hooray! Hooray for the Sword Saint!

"Long live the new king!

The folks boil when the old man waves up his fist.

The old sword saints also rise again with a vibrant face.

To that Sir Bonaparte, his servants handed him a wave of a giant sword by four.

Sir Bonaparte lifts it with one arm and pays for the cloth.

What emerged from inside...... is a large swing of blade, like that used by the Auga clan, and an incredibly complex print engraved with rainbow light.

... that one.

"Chi... what the heck..."

"No......!!

Lila's tongue, Selene's stunner.

That giant sword in front of our eyes...... the old man who shook up the dragon slayer looked at me - yes, he did look at me - and laughed lonely, waving at the remnants of snow spreading in front of him.

Moment after moment, the original exploded.

DOGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

"Whoa, whoa!!

"This is the sword saint's! It's the power of the Sword Saints Brigade!

"There's no one who can stay safe like this!

irresponsibly boiling folk.

When evaporated and fogged snow is blown away by the wind, it is not comparable to General Lucas's blow… an unbroken earth that has been swept away over a length of approximately hundreds of meters.

"… I will necessarily, succeed in the revolution! Must be!"

"Whoa, whoa!!

And then resume the slow march, surrounded by boiling folks.

Night.

We snuck in with the Sword Sage Brigade and the old man and went into our next lodging.

The surrounding folks are also getting smaller and smaller, so we, with somewhat suspicious half elves and dwarves, are not concerned either.

And as I was trying to peek into the Kensei Inn from the alley to see the opportunity to make contact with the old man, the old man showed up in front of me.

"Ugh, whoa!?

"Hey young man.... It's been a month."

"... old man"

"You see, my daytime speech. It would have been magnificent. Well, I leave the manuscript to my men, but I have a reputation for speaking."

"No... I'm not talking about that!!

I let go of my words as I put my old man in front of me.

"What are you going to do! You wouldn't be the one to do that! It would make no sense to defeat the King! But it won't even be when the weak trot is cracked!

"I don't know where I heard it, but I don't think it's for you to swear."

The old man smiled overwhelmingly and turned to the darkness behind us.

"I will kill King Ulysses. … what do you do?

"... what?"

When you don't know what the old man's intentions are and you look sideways at the darkness behind you.

There, I noticed that the shadow was in sight.

"... chip, you mean... aim"

Darkness highlights the contours as it tongues, eventually turning into a beautiful woman.

"... Mr. Deane!?

Oh, well. Is that what you mean?

Lila's behavior was weird just now because Mr. Deane was advising Lila as she followed him in hiding with phantoms?

"While keeping us from getting our first start by putting Cona on just Andy, anticipating that Andy would even move if he heard this rumor... you mean he caught me"

"Ha ha, that's not far away"

"Huh..."

No way.

... I'm to fish Mr. Deane out like this...!?

"Come on, God of War.... We will soon turn Wang Du into a battlefield. Knowing that, what do you do? The only thing standing in front of us... is your unit with the dragon's mobility, isn't it?

"... you mean revenge?

"You're free to take whatever you want.... or do you want to do it here now? Exactly. Two dragons and a god of war are bad for me, too."

"... cum"

This is where the minutes are bad.

The opponent has a dragon slayer and a group of great sword saints, albeit each decaying.

Now, if you can kill an old man with one blow, maybe you can, but that's almost impossible. And it's impossible for just three of us to fight all our forces.

"... waiting. On the battlefield.

The old man turned his back.

... we just had to drop it off.

(cont 'd)