It's all one flower.

"Sorry, the only maps I've got are from the cities of Kardafstovaux and Ignikans."

"Oh, no, I was just asking, don't worry about that"

Boy soldier Morph rushes to say (make).

Farkill laid down his eyes and made him laugh.

"I'll look into it today when I go to the city and let you in, so I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? It helps!"

Morph's crusty hand holds Farkill's nasty hand.

... The base on the peninsula west of Artel's capital is the Aquillo base.

I've seen images of exercises on military mania blogs before. Would it help the raid if you downloaded that image too?

Or should I tell the spelldoctor Septentorio to persuade him to stop because we know the militant guerrilla's target for attack?

How can I tell Farkill that this war will end... no, no one in this stronghold knew.

... That's right. If we crush the Air Force Base, we will at least reduce our attacks on the Republic of Nemoralis.

Undared, he promises to download the map, and Farkill goes out into the garden with Juvenile Soldier Morph.

In the middle of August, the small fields made in the garden finished the harvest. Tomatoes have no more flowers or fruit, but eggplant has flowers.

The type of bugs that rang changed, and the flowers that were blooming in the woods withered. I have to ask the pharmacist (dull) Awellana if the raw little fruit will become the medicine later.

In addition to his usual blush last night, Magic Warrior Oriole also stayed at this stronghold on Lanterna Island. In one of the hospital rooms until a little late, Captain Solgnac and the four of us, the spellmaker, the weapons maker and the Oriole, were discussing something.

Farkill didn't know what he was talking about, but from what the boy soldier Morph said, he probably even stood in a base raid operation.

... With a map, it's easy to set up a specific operation.

After seeing them jump to the abandoned stronghold of Nenia Island as usual [leap], Farkil returned once inside the villa. Check again the material brought back by Captain Solgnac and the others.

... I didn't expect you to tailor the Warcraft and give it to us.

Seeking the power to fight with such sadness sounds silly.

The militant guerrilla Magic Warrior has the power to fight the Warcraft. Because I was originally a professional on that path, naturally. He gently defeated the small Warcraft and deliberately brought it to me as charcoal.

... I knew... I certified Captain Solniak as one of our people.

Furkill feels complicated and packs the material he pays the spellsmith for [endless bags].

Awellana and Cruillo have made me a lot of sorts of magic drugs in the last few days. Organize and pack the instructions provided by Awellana in bags, divided by type.

Cruillo can only use the [spiritual dove] scholastic technique, so I helped, but Awellana's story suggests that his magical arm rose considerably more than before, leaving him with more work to do.

Training in [Invisible Shield] also continued during the course of the work.

Farkil had been asked by Cruillo to throw pebbles. Cruillo developed a proper [shield] to prevent pebbles. Farkill himself tried, but the pebbles that Cruillo threw at me lightly were much faster than I thought and didn't expand in time.

It wasn't on my hands, but I felt sorry for it.

The girls make clothes for dressing, and Medvege makes their own cages of crawlers.

Store manager Leno says he is helping to create a spell at the base of Negna Island, and Roark has been successful for a long time.

Captain Solniak and Juvenile Soldier Morph teach the militant guerrillas how to fight with guns and also pick up materials in the Resalub Forest.

... it's just me, right? I can't do anything, I haven't done anything, I haven't grown anything.

Attacked by self-loathing.

Farkill carried a tablet device he had acquired in Yami on the day he was still cold, beating his entire fortune and traveling to Nenia Island.

The Artel government does not allow it to report with information control, the Republic of Nemoralis has no Internet and has an overwhelmingly low amount of information that can be disseminated externally.

I wanted to break the current situation where the truth was hidden and the people of Artel were danced to the history of lies and false news.

On the Internet, unless you reveal your personal information yourself, such as race, age, sex, or occupation, as "one person's opinion," you can only see what the statement is about.

If you are an intellect, a politician, an entertainer or a sportsman, etc., you can expose yourself and make yourself responsible and persuasive in your speech with your track record and charisma until then, but the average person...... that, too, in a middle school furkill whose appearance is not pungent, you will not be dealt with by anyone the moment you show your appearance.

The followers will only look at the content of the information and opinions sent out by Farkill as long as the "traveler searching for the truth" is the "one with no face".

Many people are frightened of an unidentified account, see it fly and leave, or do not know the very existence of the account in the first place. The number of people able to tell the truth is limited, but it was gradually increasing.

… my purpose is to disseminate the correct information.

Farkill tightened his hemp bag mouth, hung his bag on his shoulder and went to the study to get a curse doctor.

The spelldoctor Septentorio has been caged in the study for a long time, other than picking up Medvege and Farkill and sending them to the woods surrounding the base. I have no problem collecting information in newspaper articles. I guess I'm looking for material to persuade the Nemoralist militant guerrillas to stop attacking.

"Well, let's go"

The scattered low table was quickly cleared and the spelldoctor went out to the garden with Farkill.

It is a [leap] spell that is completely familiar to my ears and carried in front of the North Gate of the city of Kardafstvaux.

Farkil walked through the gates, taking him with the curse doctor of the people of the lake, and stepped into the city of peace. Since that day, there has been no terrorist attack by the star sign. The people on the road and the shops are as peaceful as if nothing had happened.

"Today, after I deliver the material, I'd like to gather some information, time, okay?

"I don't mind. What information?

"It's a map and a half-century of civil unrest."

The two descended the stairs to the underground town of Chernoknyjnik. Mixed with employees rushing to the store where they work, walk down a passageway that hasn't been plugged (blocked) by products or signs yet.

"... in the meantime, is it likely that I can do what I asked?

"Er... no... Um..."

Farkil caged his mouth, remembering that he was an Arthurian and pretending to be a lacrimalist. I'll fix it before I get suspicious.

"With the payment to the haulier, when I had extra web money, I was going to buy an ebook with it, but it didn't stay, so Artel's history textbook...... I haven't been able to buy it yet. Excuse me."

"No, I'm not in a hurry, so don't worry. If it doesn't seem possible, I'll ask Mr. Silva to do the same."

Spelldoctor Septentorio doesn't seem to care much.

"Uh, so, the neighboring country of the Lacus Lacrimaris Republic objectively records half a century of civil unrest, doesn't it? But it's Hunan, so people from other countries can't read it..."

"Do you translate it into a common language?

"Yes, if the administrator of the site who sees the information for free gets permission to translate, but..."

While I was talking about it, I arrived at a spellhouse with a dragon's balls (Lindo) sign.