Instant Messiah

The season is autumn. There was a slightly stronger wind.

Whenever it shifts from paved ground to gravel, cheap carriages with little mechanism to absorb shocks transmit unpleasant vibrations.

The front, the part that carries the previous ones is thick, but in the rear of the clearly separated carriage, there was just a cloth of cheap things that didn't even play water, filled with holes as if they didn't think about the people who were riding them.

The gap wind was constantly hanging out, and another person besides me on the rear fell asleep like a miserable fit and infidelity.

In this trip in the cold wind, many people seem to get sick along the way, even if they are in slightly polite built seats at the front, and still can't stop coughing from here and there.

- Cold wind strokes my body, just as it was then when I was cold.

It's been ten years since the day I lost everything.

Now, the carriage we're riding is passing in front of a grave I once built myself.

Something awkward when it comes to tombstones (I've just been rolling around affordable sizes. I'm rather a little surprised that it's still there), and because it's carved by the child in question, the letters were shredded by the wind storm - I saw a big international scratch on the edge, whether it was a big wind or some kind of clap - something I wouldn't be able to read anymore.

Oh, yeah. Father, mother, village people.

I don't want my name left in this world either.

My mother's last words still bind me.

"Never, never forgive"

Exactly.

That's the tragedy of that village, it's something you shouldn't forgive.

The face of my father's death is still vividly remembered.

"Mindless," he said.

Dad was, like, cool.

Even if it's a mistake, or if you're just assuming that, to me, Dad is the coolest hero in the world.

The muckiness and tenderness of the villagers I feel has faded away for a long time.

Maybe it's because the last time I touched them, they were out of cold.

But they were good people. Sometimes there were bad people.

But there was no one in my village to die for.

- The green edge that you see in the distance has not changed its appearance since then, commonly known as the "Forest Without Giving".

I'm home.

I'm back, I miss my hometown, Nile Village.

The smallest village in the northernmost part of Ista is currently not the first to be called by its name.

Textiles are said to be a specialty, especially close spiritual distance from the Spirit, and not other particularly prominent areas.

No, I didn't.

Agusta, the untouchable land at the end of the North.

It is the first place where an invasion of man, also known as the Demonic Realm, began ten years ago from the land where the Demons live.

First Lost.

The original name was forgotten, and that village, which now only leaves stone tablets that do not even know who built it, was to be called the first place humanity lost and so on.

- I don't want First Lost to be called by an unscrupulous name.

This was still a traditional village there.

Even though the Spirit and man were the closest places, what they used to call them.

Spirit.

That is what people called the very elements that make up this world, the willingness to accompany them.

Once man feared fire, thanked the water, knelt in the earth, felt the wind, prayed.

He said that prayerful things were also possible to do paranormal things, with the help of the Spirit, which is their natural will.

People called them spirit-loved ones, or shamans, etc., but now it's old too.

The situation was changed by the discovery of mana full of atmosphere and the use of them, which led to the development of a technique called magic.

Magic is academia, knowledge, and wisdom.

The whole world studied the technology of versatile magic, which can be used by anyone if learned correctly, only because of some of the talents involved.

Gratitude for nature faded, and the Spirit, willing, took their hearts off the magically pervasive area.

Spirits from all over the world were to gather in northern Ista, around its woods, without people noticing.

In other words, it was the forest that it did not give, and the village of Nile was the most magically neglected area of the world, in other words, so rural that there was no room for magic to develop.

The name Forest Without Giving was the one Sherman, who was in the village of Nile, felt the displeasure of the Spirit, the loving devotion to the humans who, if told to the entity, magically cheated on him, and put it on for admonition, but the environment of the forest went mad because the Spirit was a mass influx, and the fruits, the nuts, the beasts, at least, were no longer in the depths a man could put in.

It is also a sanctuary and therefore it is not acceptable to cut down trees.

Hence.

A forest without industrial value, without meaning to people, "without giving".

It just became a place that had only meaning as a border classification with Agusta, home to the demonic tribe that was once driven to its end.

Such an interpretation became widespread, and the spirits, where they were, bent more and more their navels, and occasionally only spilled foolishness on them if humans compatible with the spirits were born in the village of Nile, all the unlucky ones who continued to receive the will of natural wrath directly went mad or died.

However, the Spirit, who became somewhat forgiving to the humans of the village of Nile whether this depression did some work, began to give favors, such as manipulating the weather to some extent for the harvest of the fields.

From the spirits, I got hikikomori, but occasionally I feel good to go outside and volunteer.

From the people of Nile Village, we have Yakuza's office in the neighborhood, but no chimps because of it.

The forgotten Spirit from the world, and the village of Nile, was such a relationship.

- When was the first time I met Sherman, who was born and raised in a village with such a legend and was not a family member?

The beginning is a lesson from my late mother.

"Never go into the woods without giving. It's a sacred place, and it's dangerous."

A commandment that is uniformly taught to children in the village.

The kids of the same age in the village who were honestly nodding when they said that, now that I think about it, were honest, I feel all the more emotional.

I don't know.

Is there someone who won't come in and tell you that? No, you're not here. '

Whenever one does not listen to a man, he cannot reflect, nor can he pray, unless he sees his painful eyes.

So the idiot who didn't listen to his mother was shipwrecked in the woods that he didn't give as a matter of course.

"Ohh, ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah!

In the dim woods, crying like that, not knowing the right or left.

My shoes were worn out at the root of the tree I caught, and my legs inside were made of mame. That hurt. It hurt.

It must have been summer because my jacket was hooked up with pointy branches as well, and it was hot and the mosquitoes stabbed me everywhere and itched.

The smell of blue is standing in the woods, and this time of year brings my mind to a time when the smell of grass still gets stronger.

Second, I went out to the open place.

The place was plugged in like the moonlight was after it and the earth was glowing blue, such an illusion. A neat, beautiful circular, holy enough to say that it was a stage for the Spirit to dance, it was beautiful there anyway.

With glittering moonlight and glittering butterflies, I forgot to cry, stopped breathing, and found myself in that fantastic sight.

So I met her (...).

――――――――――

- Heh, and consciousness returns from the past to the present.

I can see someone shaking the earth and approaching it step by step.

The air trembles, bugs, animals, feel themselves in danger and run away.

Even normal people would definitely escape.

I can understand what's closing in, all the more so if you're human.

Still here, I mean, what's the only reason?

The weight of the horse makes no sound or vibration appear like this. It is the footsteps of the advance of the lower dragons, ridden by the Demons.

It's the beginning.

The same sound that destroyed the village then.

And the sound of celebrating my doorstep from now on.

- I've been thinking about it ever since.

The Demon King has been stronger and stronger since then.

Very much so. Then you cannot kill the Demon King.

Lately, I hear a line of brave men and they're giving me a wide margin, but I have to do something about them.

I'm sure that demon king will flatten this world.

So forgive me, everyone.

Anyway, I'm weak, weak, human.

This is all I could think of.

I'll be one of the Demons. I think that's the best part.

"Ooh, get off now! Don't be a hassle!

"Aye, aye."

Return your gaze from the stone tablet in response to reprimands from a Kobolt slaver, a type of dog-headed, beastly man.

The shock of descending from the carriage reminds me of the weight of the iron shackles tied to my rear hand, on the sieve.

Long time no see, guys.

I'm late to say hello. I'm a slave now.

Probably will continue to do so.

I will be sold as livestock by the Demons. [M]

... a big shadow, I see it.

Dragon's, stepped on my father's neck, you know, a shadow.

From the other side, look, they're here.

The demons who killed everyone are here.

Let's lick it on the legs first, we need to get in a good mood.

If it stays a literal livestock, they'll eat it.

At least as a slave, they have to like it.

Hey, Dear Tia.

Well, the finishing touches are lame, see, what the hell.

Ha ha.

――――――――――――――

"If, Mr. Igor, are you here?

"Hey, every time."

Where Igor, the head of the slave trader, had stopped the carriage and lined it up, roughly two hundred or so, approached and stopped as the dragon riders used by the demons made their damning footsteps.

The sand rises and I unwittingly snort.

- I don't get discouraged whenever I see it.

I don't want to ride like this.

The dragon riders the Demons like to use are estranged from intimidation and its ugliness for those who are really unfamiliar with it.

It was one demonic woman who spoke to Igor as a wind gushed through the dust, fluttering and descending from the leading row of dragon riders.

Beautiful face with a smile on her habitual yet lustrous blonde hair.

But above all, it will be horns, like sheep, growing from above shaped ears.

It is that woman who even creates such an atmosphere, like a deep-window warlord, who is the chief executive of the Demonic One Party.

Aroma Sagesta.

Igor, aware of the imminent appearance of the Prime Minister of Agusta, the head of the slave trader, and so on, was the general of the mountain, had a charming grin that he did not show on his merchandise.

I know.

This woman, under her smile, keeps thinking about who she keeps alive and who she kills.

As long as we have a chance to win for sure, we will be able to instantly defeat the demons against even the indira in a state of truce.

The only reason I'm not killed is because I'm still beneficial to her.

"You don't have to be so frightened. May I see your product?

"Hey, over here. Hey, hey, hey, hey, line up there!

Here it is.

Observation that reads this idea with satanic acumen.

In addition to the deep premeditation, any means, if necessary, will be used, cold judgment.

With it, she is young enough to become the Hand and Foot of the Demon King and bring up the Demon Clan.

"... you stink. Well, it seemed like a long journey, and I can't help it."

"I still let you take a water bath once a week, but if you're upset, I'm sorry."

"No, I also asked for this one on the condition that it was a reasonably sturdy person. Maybe you should get used to this kind of environment."

"It would be helpful if you said so."

... It was a totally weird request.

It's not that uncommon of a time, such as human trafficking, but it's such a time that I do such a humble job myself.

I have abandoned benevolence and other things in the past.

I've sold countless women to the perverts, and I've put my idle madams to compete for beautiful boys.

I don't think there are any deep creatures in the human industry.

God's chosen creature. I can't believe I'm feeding my countrymen, even the boulder himself.

I only deal with humans.

However, it was the pride of my chamber of commerce to pay close attention to the handling of the goods.

I rarely use munchies, and it was Uri who wouldn't let me pull one cold until I handed over the merchandise.

I guess that's why Aroma is making herself a foodie, and she uses our chamber of commerce when she carries food, but this time for a different reason.

'It's good to be as hard to break as possible'.

It was on these terms that Aroma put me out about this product.

If it wasn't for the purpose of eating, it wouldn't be a slave for manual labor.

Simply talk about replenishing it when it breaks. If you look at wizards and magicians dealing with powerful magic, the one called man is fragile and weak compared to the Beast and the Demon tribe, so it is wrong to seek sturdiness in the first place.

And magicians and magicians are not the kind of products a slave trader like yourself can handle because they are the kind of people the country treats politely.

With that in mind, Aroma offered an earlier condition.

A slave, even if his spirit is stubborn, generally dies before he goes to market in the first place if his body is weak.

Then the stubbornness of his body and spirit, and the sieve that filled both, meant that Igor handled the slaves this time with a correspondence that was the opposite of his own.

Munch if you don't listen. Munch even if you ask.

No rice if you're takin 'it. The same applies to eye disorders. Other things.

If we kept doing that from Kunikuni to Reel Marr by boat, to this First Lost by carriage by road, we would have lost thirty slaves to two.

One is a former gladiator.

He had an out-of-popular physique and the strength to match it, and he had a lot of difficulty purchasing it. He has a smug look on the boulder.

The other, somehow, most unexpectedly survived.

A familiar slave trader, and this guy is a geezer who deals with humans to the human's arse, but a young man who's been sold off for throwing them away since then.

They were doing a small job, but the guidelines weren't good, and I thought I was going to die first when I was fenced (...), but I'm going to face you fine from start to finish.

I laughed when he gave me a few munches because I didn't care about the hella.

Sometimes he's downward and he's bumpy, and he's a sentimental crazy bastard.

Well, two are hard to handle.

This is the only way to convince me of this purchase.

I don't mind if I put in enough money for the dead along the way.

With that in mind, Igor turned over the two slaves, received the money and turned back the carriage.

――――――――――――――

"Okay, well, hmm...?

Compared to the two slaves handed over, Aroma put those snappy fingers on her mouth and thought.

Big man with muscular bones.

I look at this one with a mixed eye of vigilance and desire, but for Aroma, who is aware of her own beauty, I'm not particularly concerned because it was familiar to me.

Middle meat middle-backed man.

I'm pointing a glance at this one.

How on earth are they taught?

Even though I don't know what I'm going to be treated like when I'm sold to demons, not humans.

"Then the slaves. Will you both come over here?

"Ugh, don't treat me like a livestock, you female-pig! Remember, right away."

"Yes, please! My name is Nine, and I hope you know me, my beautiful devil. Thank you so much for purchasing us."

"Ugh! You really make it work! What the fuck? You've been messing around since the carriage! Say that attitude, or is there no pride!

"No more chatter. Mr. Gallon, put your collar on."

"Aye, aye."

In such an exchange, the werewolf gallon easily suppressed the fiercely resisting big man.

The man put on a collar connected to a chain that would lead exactly like a livestock and stepped on the head of a former gladiator.

"Oh, here's what happens when you get busted. Now you crawl too..."

"Oh, my God, your beautiful hairy hair is disturbing. Pepper if you don't clean it."

"What the hell are you doing! Don't lick people's feet!

"Kishan."

... I've been crawling on all fours before they told me to, and seeing how I was licking the toe of a gallon, it was one thing to think.

"... I wonder if she's okay, that girl"

"Hey, it's Aroma. He's crazy."

As the gallon back here pointed to the other side with his thumb, he was rubbing his head around the ground and rolling. Looks like he's trying to distract the fist bone pain he ate from the gallon for the amount of shackles he can't hold his head in the way.

... It's very rare to have a simple gallon and disagreement, but all I can say is yes.

I'm going to misconstrue something called human feelings for demons.

... Mmm, well, one seems bewildered and honest about this one.

Nothing. I didn't buy a pet.

You will die soon anyway.

Aroma is confident in her wit and observational eyes, but without anything in particular to think of her soon to be crushed and dying slaves, she strayed away and let their collars pull on her men to ride the dragon.

Without even knowing that was her biggest failure of her life.

At the head of a herd of dragon riders who started off, feeling the shake they still don't like very much...... oh, it's troublesome, I think.

The first time I bought this slave, it's from your sister, the Demon King.

The culmination of Agusta's largest force, Diabolo, with the talent of being a beloved childhood friend and pulling one head out of my demon king, a few self-proclaimed demon kings.

Kristera Vara Detra.

Because of her sister Elektra's bad taste, she's the feather of making such a crappy purchase this time.

Electra Villa Detra.

She... Elle is, clearly, a serial killer.

He's such a homicidal enthusiast that I just think his demonic instincts caused ancestral returns.

Once you get excited, it won't heal until you see the blood.

Many demons with her are hurt trying to stop them poorly.

Still, she couldn't handle it unhindered because it was one of the Devil's greatest wars, and as one of the means to comfort her a little boredom, she handled the purchase of slaves and such immediately, but only two.

Just two, huh?

As an Electra toy, I don't have a day, but let's not blame Igor.

I guess he did what he just did.

Reel Marr's inspection is over, and all you have to do is go home.

- Noisy and fun Demon King Castle. It's only been a few months, but I miss it.

The two I bought because of this are a waste because they're going to die soon anyway, okay?

I hope you don't get too dirty because it's hard to clean even if you want to kill me.

It was not until two days later that the demonic prime minister, who had thought of such a pleasant thing, turned pale in his face.