Hitsugi no Maou

The rain was intensifying. When the wind blows sharply down from the black clouds, they slap the droplets to the side.

Sabitoga descended from the balcony floorboard to the roof tile (instead) and ran her gaze to the western bedroom where it sank into the darkness.

As Lady Myeong said, the roof tile stretches the sides of the courtyard in a straight line to the bedroom.

The voices of the lower queens had vanished as if they were lies. Sabitoga walks out in the wind and rain alone.

Koke grows in the ancient tiles of the rear palace, inadvertently sliding the shoes in an outrageous direction.

I came here to apologize for falling and dying. Lie back, hands close to the tiles and proceed carefully.

The crystal lights on the ground floor were glistening like distant stars.

I want the light to illuminate at hand. I thought as I searched for cockerel at my fingertips, that was when.

Unexpectedly, far forward, the sound of hard objects crushing, and bright red sparks began in the windstorm. Countless footsteps running on the roof reach Sabitoga's ears that stop the movement perfectly.

A spark falling into the tile is blinking as it raises the smoke. A flat shoe passes over that fine light. "Kazuki" with a slippery (smooth) stop, made with plenty of beast skin. Gear to fight on a rainy roof.

The impending footsteps are mixed with hard bursting noises again. Splashing sparks are fires of gunpowder that burn in the water, mixed with oil and animal manure.

The opponent sprinkles a spark in the darkness in the rain, illuminating the scaffolding and coming precisely this way.

The surrounding raiders were mistaken by Sabitoga for the 'ninja', who for a moment had kept himself on guard.

But I reckon that shouldn't happen right away. Ninjas are incarnations of darkness with rain and darkness as allies and specializing in the art of assimilation.

It is absolutely impossible for them to sound their footsteps and cleave the darkness with a spark. Those who need fire in the dark night are not ninjas.

Sabitoga stretches her back and slowly sets up the bone saw. Intermittently bursting sparks loom right in front of you. Three shadows, clearly contoured (Rinkaku) in the rain and smoke.

One of the shadows pointed to Sabitoga and shouted intent to kill. Gunpowder that can be slapped with anger. A scattered spark raises the image of the raiders.

Again, it was a fig. Though the clothes in the thick cloth and the cheeks on the headscarf were indeed the designs of the ninjas, the raiders dyed them all black.

A real ninja wears a color of tomato. It is nothing more than the fact that, when lurking in the darkness, the tomato colour scatters the most human contours, making it difficult to see.

Colors such as black and dark blue do not exist in the darkness. They make the contours of those who put them together stand tight.

Choosing black to lurk in black darkness is an amateur idea.

Sabitoga quickly runs his eyes between the unreachable darkness of the spark lights, keeping the figs in sight to pull out long poisonous swords and chain-split copper with unfamiliar hands.

Then I could see the remnants of the contour wandering, almost just signs, like ghosts in the rain.

The real ninja is over there. Behind the scuffs, he craves his desk without even leaking (or leaking) footsteps or possibly breathing.

Sergeant of the Predecessor with special skills and a sharpening blade figurine that mimics his appearance.

It's the same relationship between Sabitoga and the Udais. Mittens even ninjas sought their own fashion.

Then the contents of the figs in front of me are the same as the SS students (since) who tried to replace them with Sabitoga.

Eighty-nine of them, bastards.

"- Not for you guys!!

Sabitoga retreated (shiitake) with a forward kick without even shaking a bone saw at the enemy, who had to pull down the poisonous sword he carried.

Collide with your subsequent companions and slap more streaks into the belly of the stuffed animal that removes the poisonous sword.

And whosoever was caught between his companion and his companion was broken of the gunpowder that was left in his nostrils, and put together a spark. Sabitoga further pursues the figs that roll around on the tiles as they scream. He quickly ripped one's throat and killed him, beat (oops) and crushed the next one's back of the head with a bone saw, and the last one held (or just) his rotten (or just) back up and threw it down in the courtyard.

In the plum grove, a fire-pillar of gunpowder rises. When Sabitoga opened his throat and cramped his enemies' nostrils, he sprayed a flash of gunpowder toward the signs on the roof.

A blast, a spark flowing in the wind, storms the presence of two tomato-colored beings. Unlike the brand-new headscarves of the figs, the headscarves of the beaten (Shinji) were sliced off like willow (Yanagi) leaves, putting together a terrible texture reminiscent of the skin of the corpse.

The cheeks are wooden planks without any design. There was no light behind it, and the appearance of the Ninja (Kao) was sinking into true darkness.

The two strikes pull out the poison sword. A special knife, not negative on the back, but only one wave on the waist, loaded the rain grain and emitted a yarn-like light.

Silently, a ninja rushes out the roof. Their shoes, looming without footsteps, were the same as those of Sabitoga, and there was no appearance of anti-slip application (where).

The sword flashes run. Shake the bone saw.

One poisonous sword stopped with a whalebone blade, and a second blade tip approached my stomach.