It's all one flower.

Olyor wipes his tears with his sleeve.

"But it seems like Artel's technology can't make it, and I'm going to have to buy the old one from somewhere else. I want to slap the rest at once because there won't be any more money like that."

"So, tell me, what do I do...?

"For once, I brought everyone in for when I got hurt, but maybe, I don't think anyone's going home. If we don't hear from you three days after the operation, get out of here."

You said that much and remembered it, I'll add it to my quick mouth.

"Those people, as long as Mr. Silva doesn't mind, I think it's okay to stay. Thank you so much for everything."

Oriol stood up and corrected his posture, bowing his head to the spelldoctor Septentorio. Septentorio also stood and grabbed Oriol's arm over the low table.

"Such a unilateral declaration cannot be called consultation. Please reconsider."

The young man of the land people gave a weak grin, reflecting the rugged look of the curse doctor of the people of the lake in his eyes wet in tears.

"The truth is, I was going to ask the curse doctor (Seiko) for a worse cot..."

"What..."

"Listen, what are you going to do?

"Say you want to talk to me, shut up... everything, are you going to run it alone?

Oriol doesn't answer. Without waving off the hands of the spelldoctor, he silently gazes at the people of the lake who question him. The spelldoctor tried to read the thoughts from the eyes of the young land people.

... Perhaps this is the last time. We have to do something to keep them in mind...

A force cages in the hand that grabs Oriol's arm. The young man's gaze moved. Look at the study door, open your mouth.

"Wounded and back here, if it wasn't for Journitle... I was going to have the curse doctor stab me in the todome"

"What?

"Journitle has been saying this lately that it's vain. But everyone else... especially the ones Mr. Silva brought in were the ones who were originally avenged by themselves... I don't know what to say..."

Oriol's hand touches the hand of the spelldoctor Septentorio. The softly accompanied hand was warm.

"It's not just revenge, it's about the people without Artel's power... killing is about fun... there's something like that..."

A trembling hand holds the spelldoctor's wrist.

The spelldoctor Septentorio circled around the low table and stood next to the young man. Softly touch the frightened young man's shoulder.

"Robberies, murders... Artel's story says that the work of the escaped prisoner is a trick, but some of us are... laughing and bragging about how badly we killed him..."

"These people are here now...?

"Yes. So... um... I was going to ask you to die during the operation... because if you survive and go back to Nemoralis, I'm sure it won't be a loco cot, so, to the curse doctor..."

The spelldoctor Septentorio remembered the sight he had seen so much as say no during half a century of civil unrest. Until then, the power used to protect humans from demons and warcraft is directed against humans.

Overwhelming difference in force.

The powerful people slaughter each other in all sorcery, and the powerless people slaughter each other with the weapons of science. The weak will not have the power to exchange, but will be ravaged by the strong.

Sometimes mass slaughter prolonged twitching and agony, and even looked down at the bottom of despair.

When the poisonous gas weapon was used for the temple and Septentorio rushed, it was forced to retreat with residual toxins, unable even to search for the survivors, and the temple of Panisea Uni Flora, the goddess of the lake, turned into a graveyard.

"History textbooks, I don't know much about them, they weren't listed."

A young man of the land people speaks in a quiet voice to a spelldoctor who has lost his expression.

"The Lacus Lacrimaris kingdom is the joint rule of the Lacus Nenia family of the people of the lake and the Lacrimaris family of the people of the land, and it has been long since the Lacus lake has grown to its present size."

The young men of the land people stare into the universe and hand over their memories, and learn from their childhood.

"It's an absolute kingdom, but unlike anywhere else, it wasn't a despotic monarch, or something like that, or something like that, you know, rushing through the cots from the mythical times... that's what's summed up on the opening two pages, and then a hundred years after democratization and half a century of civil unrest cots"

Security guard Oriole tells an overview of history taught at school.

The long-lived racial spelldoctor Septentorio was so briefly summed up that he could not find a difference from his own experience.

"Recently… the time of the Republic of Nemoralis was another textbook, a whole book, called 'Modern Society'"

"Really...... thank you. So the life of the kingdom is…"

"Not at all, I can't imagine"

"Yes... I guess"

The spelldoctor loosened his hand, which grabbed the young man's arm.

"With the priest of the goddess of the lake and the king of the land people, people lived in peace, with or without faith, race, or magic, as the people of the Kingdom of Lacus Lacrimalis"

"I used to say it was a good idea, you old bastard."

Oriol smiled bitterly. Septentorio slightly raises the corner of his mouth and speaks of the old days.

"Perhaps so. But new things aren't necessarily good. It was only a few hundred decades ago that Kirkulusism was passed on to this land. At the same time, it conveyed the concept of democracy."

"Is that the root of all evil?

"No. I can't stop saying that at a glance. If you look at the world, there are many countries that are doing well with it."

Everyone knows it as common sense. The young man of the land people snorted at the words of the curse doctor of the people of the lake.

"... I just don't think this Lacus region has the right kind of teaching and system."

A magical warrior of the land people repeats and repulses the words of the curse doctor of the lake people in a low voice.

The spelldoctor Septentorio turned his gaze to the material he had spread to the low table. Last year, it was a statistical article on the damage and extermination caused by demons and warcraft that occurred in Artel territory, as well as an article on a recent incident that reported damage.

Oriol followed the spelldoctor's gaze and gave him an indescribable look.

"Since those two were moved, there has been constant conflict in the Hudong region, and the Hunan region, too, is this way. Ancient… In the battle against the demons of the Three Kingdoms, the land, almost depleted by magic, was settled with Kirkrus, but here is the status quo"

The articles conveying the damage are accompanied by a list of demonic measures that can be taken at home, but all have only a degree of effect in terms of feelings.

In Artel, it cannot be eliminated until someone is eaten and the demon is subjected to flesh and becomes a warcraft equipped with an entity. In demons without entities, attacks of weapons of science don't work.

"In contrast, the Hubei region, mainly the sealed land of Murtiflora, is almost clandestine, but stable with authoritarian monarchs"

The Seven Kingdoms of Hubei draw the stream of the Pratifira Empire weakened in the battle against demons of the Three Kingdoms. To counter the demons of the Three Kingdoms, each royal family is united by blood and forges a strong alliance. For more than two thousand years, he defended the kingdom of Murtiflora from the invasion of other countries.

They are all magical civilized countries, with a relatively high proportion of long-lived races as a percentage of the population, and the king has a long reign. The imperial direct kingdom of Pratifira can be said to have survived longer than the kingdom of Lacus Lacrimalis.

"Undo... you're telling me I should put it back? Because you've been doing well for thousands of years?

"I don't think you're going to go to a wacko that says it's completely back to normal."

"I'll tell Journitle."

The young man, who offered himself to revenge, took the hand of a spelldoctor and held him softly.