It's all one flower.

From within Morph saying nothing, the captain shook his neck to the side to seal the question and ask it first.

"The Yang Dynamic Squad... are you all right?

"You don't know, eh? I was transported by Mr. Olyor, and Mr. Cleve came back alone with a serious injury, now. I'm sleeping in my room."

"What about Mr. Oriole?

"After he carried me, he jumped again."

"... right"

Captain Solniak glanced at the void with a rugged look.

"Excuse me."

"No, fine. Well done. You're back safe."

At least, it seems that one powerless people of the Yang Dynasty Squad was eaten by the Warcraft. The control tower, too, must have killed two people who couldn't get back here.

Captain Solgnac turned to the three guerrilla wizards.

Security guard Journitle declares before he is told.

"I'm going to cover Par Little's troops. Please give me the rest of the grenade."

Captain Solniak said nothing, stuffed a grenade in the empty pocket of the Lake People's Journal and replaced the automatic small arms cartridge with a new one.

The spelldoctor Septentorio concentrates on his treatment, and he doesn't even look at Chirali here. As the chant progresses, the bleeding stops from the wound of the guerrilla who lost one arm.

A guerrilla of a powerless people came to the scene with an arm devoured by a warcraft, he explained.

The spelldoctor replies that [Blue One-Winged] school surgery cannot produce defective sites and casts yet another spell. The bone, which was a peel, was wrapped in meat, and the wound blocked while missing ahead of his upper arm.

Funeral home Agoni surgically washes the wounds of the other wounded and burns away the cloudiness of the drained water.

Another lake people offered palms to a shallow, powerless people.

"If you stay, give me [the magic crystal] too. I'm finally jumping on my own."

"We won't be able to carry weapons anymore, but we can, yet. Well, you're going home."

The guerrilla of a powerful land people, who became a ship's arm, stood up on her own and joined the circle of stories, laughing niggardly in a tired voice. You look pale.

The guerrillas of the powerless people distort their licences.

"I don't care if it's one way."

"I don't want you to go"

Septentorio, the curse doctor of the people of the lake, grabbed the wrist of the old man guerrilla.

The powerless old man waved the spelldoctor's hand and asked the boy soldier Morph.

"How was the Yang Dynasty? Did it go well?

"Fair enough. The barracks have been sealed off and the bodies of Artel soldiers have been left behind, haven't they, by now?

"What else?

"A tank was unleashing its main cannon on the east building."

Juvenile soldier Morph briefly explained what he saw from the window on the top floor of the barracks.

The guerrillas of the people of the lake nod convincingly.

"Oh, you want to prioritize the end of the Warcraft over protecting the building,"

"All right, then, I'll go too"

The old man guerrilla slapped the shoulder of the lake people and said hello, he laughed. The three wizards, let it snort.

The spelldoctor Septentorio stood up and grabbed both shoulders of the powerless people's old guerrilla.

"Please wait. Still, I just blocked the wound, and the blood loss..."

"I know you well. Spelldoctor."

"I've been cured many times before."

The guerrillas say it orally, and the curse doctor of the people of the lake looks around at them with a bewildered face.

"If you want to disturb me, kill the curse doctor, but I'll go."

An old guerrilla takes the spelldoctor's hand off his shoulder and sets up an automatic pistol. The curse doctor of the people of the lake breathes and gazes at the Nemoralist aspiring militant guerrilla.

The guerrillas had such quiet eyes that the boy soldier Morph was astonished.

The other day, one of the guerrillas, who threatened the Pinas with everyone in the mobile dealership for the hostages, laughs with his nose.

There's nothing left for us.

"Almost there, I can totally crush that base"

"Now, if we turn around, we're gonna get back on our feet and we're gonna air strike."

"Halfway is the worst thing I can do."

"But I'm exhausted... by now, there's another warcraft pouring out of the bodies of Artel soldiers, right?

To the spoken guerrilla, the curse doctor of the people of the lake shook his head to the side and turned his eyes to captain Solgnac.

The captain picks up Cleve's automatic small gun and hands it to the guerrilla who was beside him silently. The number of bullets left is unknown. The guerrilla hung an automatic small gun on both shoulders, grinning lightly and nodding.

A fellow guerrilla blocks the people of the lake from trying to say something. Green hair in magical light glowed with blue.

"Thank you, doctor, for allowing me to move."

"No... but, like I just heard, I can leave it to the Warcraft anymore..."

"I want to kill one or more of them with this hand."

I did not let the funeral parlor Agoni speak to everyone, and the guerrillas of the people of the lake hatefully distorted their mouths and caged their strength in their hands with guns. Hate flames shake in green eyes.

Roark, a high school student, was all grated up and unspoken.

The guerrillas take an assault rifle from their hands and pull out two remaining grenades from the tactical vest and a bullet cartridge.

"It will be enough. Please reconsider."

The spelldoctor Septentorio looks around at the guerrillas and begs them. A guerrilla, chopped off a thousand arms, spit and threw away.

"As long as I can live and cast a spell, I won't stop fighting."

"Revenge doesn't produce anything...... what a beautiful, heads-down, hatred, remorse, sadness doesn't go away"

"If you can stop saying that, they'll hate you too much."

"Oh no..."

The spelldoctor Septentorio, who lost everything in his body in a half century of civil unrest, ceases. Did he not ask the people of land for the redemption of the blood of his clan, but he did not fulfill it, and gave up? Are you so thin that your heart is not broken by the death in your body?

Boy soldier Morph didn't even know what it was like to be a wizard of a long-lived race.

If it's how the guerrillas feel, I know as well as it hurts. I didn't feel like stopping them, but now I was exhausted and I didn't feel like doing anything.

There are five Wizard guerrillas in the Yang Dynamic Squad of the Juvenile Soldier Morphs.

Cleve left wounded, and Magic Warrior Oriole probably returned to Aquillo Base.

The same [rapidly descending eagle (eagle)] Ultr, a magical warrior who completed his scholarly technique as Oriol, and the people of the lake, three powerful people, have not returned to at least this treatment base on Lanterna Island.

Have you been hit by an Artel soldier or a Warcraft attack, are you still fighting after the end of the operation, or have you returned to your base on Nainia Island?

Are the three of you together or are you acting differently? That's not even for Morph... No, I couldn't confirm it with anyone here.

"Are you really saying you're going to die?

Shaking off the sad voice of the funeral parlor Agoni, putting aside the boy soldier Morph and Captain Solgnark, the high school student Roark, and the sleeping cleave, the militant guerrillas [jumped] to Aquillo base again.

The boy soldier Morph, left behind, saw Captain Solgnac, but the captain won't say anything to me. Nor did it stop them from returning to Aquillo Base.