Short mowed lawn spread, pilots school garden. There are numerous tables and chairs lined up there, filled with people spreading the lunches they bring in.

But not everyone is in the garden. The high-ranking people were led to the cafeteria on campus and served dishes by chefs.

"You have a lot of promising students this year compared to last year. The difference is, has the Teacher returned?"

The Knights of Kaisel Beard, who finished the same meal as everyone else, says while enjoying the smell of coffee.

"I didn't do anything. I'll give you some advice once in a while, but it's smoky."

An old entertainer instructor who waves and frightens his palms in front of his chest. It would be natural for the two of you to be here.

"That advice is invaluable," he returns, "you're good," and so on, a grand and old man who laughs with pleasure.

A school official walked over there and sat back and slapped his ear at his grandfather.

"My Lord Knights Commander. I don't know, but something terrible is happening."

An old instructor who opens his mouth with a troubled look after lowering his men. The content is, "Someone is inviting the semifinalists to lunch."

"The Knights of the Alliance of Merchants, with the Knights. You're looking for a rider because you're going to get one more class C."

The eared Kaisel beard bends a single eyebrow.

"Where the Falls Go, such as the Civilian Knights"

Such recognition, already long ago. The Knights of the Alliance of Merchants, in particular, have a good reputation from the people because of their track record of 'allowing the streets to pass without escort'.

I couldn't tell you enough without a pilot.

"I will speak to the top four only after finishing my training at the Knights of the Kingdom. I'll stick the nail in my hand."

To the offer of an elderly instructor, a nodding Kaisel beard.

I looked to the corner of the dining room, probably because there was an Adventurer Alliance guild leader. As with the Merchant Alliance, it has been decided to receive a Class C one-horse payoff.

"Now if you'll excuse me."

Drinking up the coffee left in the cup, the old instructor takes a seat to head to the garden.

Looking at its back, the Knights captain turned his thoughts around to the four remaining winners.

(The three newcomers are rarely seen as delicacies in recent years. The rest of us can't compare to when we attended last year's training)

This one finishes his coffee and exhales gently

"... I can't even move my forefinger. You wanted to spit on it."

He was in his voice because some of his surroundings reacted with Pickle.

Nothing special, but those who saw him with colored glasses did not receive him that way.

"Easily stretch your index finger to a warm or soft presence falling on the ground. Close to his face. When he smelled it, he gave his tongue and licked it up and dusted his face off."

Such footage was vividly reflected in the back of the brain.

"You rot."

What I mouthed was a young man sitting next to me. It's one of two people who seems to be friends.

From his own personal point of view, both would be descendants of a noble nobleman.

"Fermentation and Corruption"

The same events were divided by people's values, but within the golden gastronomer Gourmet of Gold, they are different from heaven and earth, or as much as clouds and mud.

Such a good word for him, an insult. But I dared to pretend I couldn't hear, put my hand on my chin and closed my eyes.

(My taste is not yet accepted by people)

Just because he was conscious, he also decided to "mock the passionate hobby" once.

But the middle split long hair carries on the laughing words with its nose.

"I didn't know you couldn't hear me. It seems to rot to the ear as well as the nose and tongue"

Kaisel mustache who quietly opens his eyes with his expression off and sees the Lord of his voice. The middle-divided young man had already taken a seat, holding both fists in front of his chest and a belligerent grin.

To that appearance, the mature man understands.

Do you want a duel?

But when I say 'duel', I don't use a sword. It's only 'beatings in front of the public'.

This is a practice established by a king several generations ago, whose purpose is to prevent fatalities and body defects.

"Bloody, Overconfident"

Because of their upbringing, noble children have many such children (from Ya).

For them, 'a place where you can beat them down in front of everyone and boast of their superiority and inferiority' is necessary. If we let him drain the gas, he could cause a fool to crush both himself and the house, such as slashing him with a sword from behind.

(Do not take a sweet look at young people's ability to act and their shallow thoughts)

With a living sample in front of him, the Knight Commander exhales gently and rises.

(Which, let's teach him one thing)

The aristocratic young man, who split the long hair of one side in the middle, deepened his grin when he saw that the other had received it. From the standpoint, you must be learning quite a bit about fisting.

The short-haired young man, his friend and still in his seat, held his head with both elbows on the table.

(Thoughts crap)

The two can't allow the golden gastronomer Gourmet of Gold to be the "Heavy Town of the Country".

Short-haired youth, however, could see only a little more than long hair.

(Strong within your peers, but it's not supposed to work)

No matter how foolish you are, it is true that 'numerous real-time battles and pilots who have come diving through the dead'.

It only seemed like suicide, such as challenging a duel.

"Come on, motherfucker"

Middle division of long hair moving one hand so as to agitate.

"Shit."

The lower-level thrust carried out without dealing with him at all is not allowed to prevent it or interfere with it, and he punctures the flank of the long-haired young man.

The right fist, with his middle finger raised, was screwed gritty as it was.

(... if that is, 'Infinite Alchemy'!

Short-haired aristocratic youth lose complexion to the gourmet gourmet of gold must-have moves.

If the rumors are true, my friend will no longer be 'the goose that keeps laying golden eggs'.

"You have to look back at yourself until the sun goes down."

Kaisel beard who leaves words to affirm his guess and leaves the dining room behind.

The young man with short hair snapped to his heart as he pursued that back with his eyes.

(I'll admit I'm strong. But look around. You are nowhere to be admitted)

A man who knocked up from a junior pilot and became a knight captain. Its strength will undoubtedly be genuine.

But that preference ruins everything.

(If not for the golden gastronomer Gourmet of Gold, you would have earned respect from everyone)

Short-haired youth came out of high nobility, but even hated the authoritarian old men. If Kaisel had no special taste in his beard, he might have turned to his side of support.

Apart from his long-haired friend, his denial of short hair was also a reversal of his thought of 'sparing'.

(Is it okay to be lonely? So you're happy? The golden gastronomer Gourmet of Gold.)

What comes to mind is the appearance of Kaisel's mustache drunk in solitary wine, before the golden platter of mountains.

Hearts that were unacceptable for decades and continue to be ridiculed, yet have not broken or changed. A firm, spine-stretched hindsight would be a testament to that.

(... I see that your heart is also made of gold)

It does not rust and is rare due to low output. Indeed, the Knight Commander and the lonely metal are not alike.

Just a little, a short-haired aristocratic young man who soothes his feelings. Such a roar of the Apocalyptic Beast draws him back to reality.

What is it?

If you turn your face to the way it sounds like a sound source, open your eyes and mouth round, hold your belly with your hands, and look in the middle of your long hair shaking in front of you.

The roar of the end was undoubtedly emanating from its belly, and still continues to be emanating.

"Run, run!"

He scouted, pointing and shouting down the hallway in a panic. But my friend shakes her long hair to the left and right just because she can't move.

The short-haired young man intensified his discourse and told him out loud again.

"Just run! Your life is over. Whoa."

Before I finish, I go forward and grab my friend's arm and jump out of the dining room.

In conclusion, he made it just in time.

Ringing on the grounds of the School of Pilots is the sound of a bell announcing the beginning of the afternoon section.

Me and the grass-fed mechanic head to the grand auditorium lounge, which is the match venue.

"Sounds like you've been misunderstood."

A young man with thin lines, shrugging his shoulders as he walks. This just showed up, about an old man who looked like a teacher.

"Please refrain from buying Aotea. 'Cause this one's taking a lot of time.'

That's how they noticed.

"You won't have a choice. This is the Merchant Alliance Knights, the pilot and mechanic."

It's like messing with a hat under a grape shelf and re-tying a shoelace in a watermelon field.

In a previous life, it would be 'a woman and I are going on a business trip'. Anyone who says' suspicious' will always show up, even if they don't feel comfortable with both sides at work.

This is the one that lacked consideration, so I bowed my head back to my grandfather and promised 'I won't do that'.

"By the way, that instructor, he's from the Knights of the Kingdom, isn't he? It used to be inconceivable to come politely like that."

A herbivore mechanic who goes on like he was impressed. Indeed, the previous Knights, and the pilots' school strongly influenced by the Knights, had an atmosphere of respect for themselves alone.

"In the Minutes of the Civilian Knights! Mind your own business!

He yelled at me so much, he could have kicked me off the table while I was eating without joking.

"It's a good time."

The grass-fed mechanic nods at my words and sits side by side at the edge of the VIP table. And he lost sight of the game venue.

(In the first game of the semifinals, are Teaching Light Patrol Sensei and Mr. Cool? Would have liked to see it in the finals if I could)

With just a little bit of waste, I take a look at the two beauties of Jaanne sitting in the mock cockpit.

The fact that I can't see the contents of the tight skirt is really good.

(Teaching light patrol teacher, would you bring the pilot's uniform to Jaanne)

Ask for it on the next booking date. With that in mind, I was the one who rode out of sight.

Crawling around between the knees, gaze from the audience. Feeling it, Mr. Cool sighs at the opponent's delight.

That's a terrible combination.

Teaching light patrol teacher, as Tauro says. A rival since she was a student, she wanted to be hit by a "Casabel Storm".

I entrust a whipper with no knowledge of the bottom of my strength, and I fight an analyzed big girl. It should have been a pleasure for both of us.

(I have no choice. Because this is also in the fight)

When you change your mind, you pour magic into the knight and let him walk to the starting position, Mr. Cool.

After giving thanks to both sides, he began the match with the decree of the referee.

Two miniature knights, one metre tall, cut in the middle of a magic formation of ten metres in diameter.

I think as I look down from the VIP table.

(Teaching light patrol teacher prevails. Mr. Cool is being pushed)

Both sides, a standard piece of equipment called a shield on a one-handed sword. Though Mr. Cool has more maneuvers, the devastating power of a single blow has surpassed the instructional light patrol teacher and continues to sharpen his opponent's health.

"If she feels cold, you don't have the glory"

The grass-fed mechanic seems to have seen it as well. I'm leaning on my little neck, probably because 'they're mutual' and they were asking me at lunch.

"... strength of thoughts. I'm sure that's the difference."

In return for me, a thin young man with a line that reinforces the colour of the doubt. But it's hard to explain any more.

Teaching Teacher Light patrol loves to train herself so much that she embarks on a martial arts training journey.

"Ghost of Training"

It's hard to imagine from the usual quiet, physically soft atmosphere, but that's what Jaanne's apprenticeship girls call it, collecting fear and respect all together.

It was the other day that Plain Son turned into Queen, and Teaching Light Patrol said he hasn't fought yet. So you won't be able to help but want to fight.

(But Mr. Cool doesn't have that much passion)

What she wants is to be her first woman.

I accepted my massage modification surgery (tuning) just for that reason and threw people away.

Now it is the Phantom First Eater (Unicorn) of the Dying Regiment, which is quickly reached by the first opponent and many times.

(If you can make your first item a prize, a good battle. No, I would have been overwhelmed)

If you think about the battle of the divine match in the Holy Capital, that's not unlikely.

But it's only 'now that it didn't happen'. Because even though I did everything I could to find it, I couldn't find the first thing in my network.

The only thing that would be driving her now would be the pride of 'appearing or wanting to win'.

"Mr. Tauro. It's going to be decided."

A herbivore mechanic says as he stares at the venue with a serious look.

Mr. Cool's knight, who had always been at a disadvantage, collapsed and got a buttcake. Knight of the Teaching Light Patrol teacher, who immediately waves a one-handed sword down from the Great Upper Stage.

(Sorry. Forgive my fuzzy boss)

I apologize deeply for the first food eater (unicorn) in my heart, the leader of the Dying Regiment, it was Doctor Slime me.

Pilot's School, in the east of Wangdu Royal Castle. From there, in downtown to the southwest, a partially three-story building.

In the grassy garden on its rooftop, a dangolia, fifteen centimetres long, reacts pictorially and looks up at the sky.

"What's wrong?

A twenty centimetre tall imobe on a branch asks how his friend is doing.

As General Dangolow moved his tentacles, he emitted waves.

"... Yukon"

"Yuki, huh?

I don't know what that means, lift your torso and tilt your head to the side, deputy chief Imosque.

"Eh."

Regardless, Dangolow gets round. Such two sides, in a pond in the garden, a tortoise twenty centimetres long swimmed past Yuyu.

The point of view is here, to Mr. Cool.

(What's that?

I thought it was over, the opponent's blow.

I went into Tangbamboo cracking, but for some reason it was less shocking and I was able to survive.

But I don't know what caused it. They seem to be the same, with slight but confusing signs.

"All the way"

In the meantime, I thought I heard something on my head.

(General!)

Mr. Cool just understood intuitively.

It was General Dangolow's escort that mitigated the blow. And now the words are advice on how to fight.

(Right. Because you are a knight, you have to fight with a sword and a shield, there is no such decision. You should have fought my way)

Throw the sword and shield at Teaching Light Patrol Sensei, then fall back and distance while the opponent avoids surprise.

When Mr. Cool inhaled his breath heavily, he poured magic into his legs and into the hover.

(My specialty is spinning. Eat!)

Accelerating all at once with a fierce dash, he leans back on his forehead and holds his knees along the way. So Mr. Cool's knight, who hung the maximum output on the hover, turned it into a fiercely forward round of tires.

Teaching light patrol teacher who decided he couldn't do it along the way, even if he set up a surprise shield.

Running to the side also makes me play the shield.

It's not over.

Passing in a murderous momentum, the tire leans in front of the outer edge of the magic formation and turns to the instructional light patrol teacher.

The feeling of being able to keep an accurate picture of your current position while spinning at high speeds would only be if Mr. Cool increased his spinning moves to the extreme.

(From here, it's a battle of guts. Don't think it's that easy to beat)

Murder tires that strike the miniature knight repeatedly while drawing eight letters to the floor twice and three times. Instructional Light Patrol Sensei waved his sword, but was bounced into high speed rotation, and he finally got his sword flown.

(Now the same situation. But do you have a hand?

Mr. Cool is approaching as he rotates from the front to the incompetent instructional light patrol teacher.

The whole venue breathes in the way you don't try to avoid it at all.

And in a slow time, flowing between just the two fighting, Mr. Cool shrugged.

(... That's right)

Instructional Light Patrol Sensei, who did not move as if he had forgotten something called fear, swung through the right hook with his hips on the verge of bumping into him.

The fist, which struck from out of sight, struck out the center of the wheel of the spinning tire. And deal deadly damage to Mr. Cool's knights, who had only a few health left, further distracting them from the path.

(chief, deputy chief, and general. …………………………………………)

the word. Finally, the knight lost control and went outside the magic formation ten meters in diameter. The supply of magic is cut off, but it clashes against the wall without diminishing momentum.

Jumping straight up, he jumped into the center of the VIP seat.

"Ugh!

Along with such a voice, it was the Knights of the Kingdom of Kaiserbeard who received the Knights of the Golem, one metre tall from the front. That's all I'm saying.

The first semi-finals match here ended in the form of the victory of Teaching Light Inspector.