It's all one flower.

Funeral home Agoni [jumps] without even telling him where he's going.

Septentorio, the curse doctor of the people of the lake, looked up at the blurry dawn sky in the garden where his fellow countrymen disappeared.

The cicadas that were so noisy became quiet at some point, and the thinly floating clouds that had just dawned are high and completely autumnal. The morning air as Sneg looked up thinking the same thing as the day he visited was much clearer than it had been a few days earlier.

The birds wake up in the surrounding woods, and they leave the twist and begin to squirm.

As declared, the arms maker left.

Cleve, asked by Oriol, takes the newcomers brought by the old lady Silva to a ruined stronghold in the city of North Zakart to teach him how to handle the remaining weapons and protective equipment.

The guard Oriol, who went somewhere, has not yet returned, and the only remaining strongholds hidden in the forest of Lanterna Island are the spelldoctors Septentorio and Journitol.

The Lake People's Guard Journitol is caged in the dossier room and reads newspaper clippings collected and organized by the spelldoctors with the help of the Farkills.

The base, which was so busy, became quiet as the fire went out after the truck at the mobile dealership left.

Usually, those kids woke up at this time when the sparrows began to whisk, making bread, doing field work, etc.

As Oriol said, Journitol was a warm, quiet young man, so strange that he was acting with those guerrillas. The little fields made by those kids are rejuvenated thanks to Journitle's daily care.

However, he was a magical warrior who had completed his [plummeting eagle (eagle)] school technique and had participated in Artel's Aquillo base raid operation. I can't imagine how many Artel soldiers were killed by his magic.

... Was our connection to this extent?

With that said, I didn't remember being friends.

All I knew was that Agoni was an official funeral parlor registered in the city of Zerno, entering and leaving the Zerno Municipal Central Civic Hospital, where the spelldoctor Septentorio worked.

I realize I don't know a few personal things about where I live, my age, my family structure, my favorite food, etc., and the days I spent with Agoni collapse like sand.

A dry breeze flashed the hem of the white coat. This white coat is embroidered with spells and other things in yarn of the same color. Protected by the techniques of [heat resistance] and [cold resistance], I didn't even know if this wind was hot for the remainder of the summer or cold to mark the beginning of the fall.

Whether you're in the same place, in those kids with lots of powerless people and in the spelldoctor Septentorio, it's not the same way you take one of the winds.

If I took off this white coat, I would have felt the same wind on my skin, but the septentorio of a powerful people had no idea.

How was Agoni?

I took off my magic clothes, saw the same scenery with the same gaze as those kids, and felt the same wind on my skin, so did I understand?

Sneg hasn't shown up since then, and Razornik hasn't come either.

In the middle of the conversation, I had no clue where I could see them if I went to Lacrimaris, the king's capital.

I wish I could go to the underground town of Chernoknyjnik and get the haulier Fiarlka to contact me for a consideration for something, but I don't feel like doing anything right now.

Time passes without reason, standing before the white rose, looking to heaven.

A completely brightened sky looked approximate.

How many days have passed since then, even counting is a hundred million robberies.

... If we don't get out of here soon, Oriol will go back to the fight.

Will he heal them as a spelldoctor when the wounded return here? Or, as a Nemoralist, would you stab Todome in the militant guerrilla?

Now that Agoni wasn't here, if we let the dead out here, the demons might have been subjected to meat. This villa is protected by the junction, and no demons or warcraft can enter from the outside, but nothing can be done about the things that occur inside.

... So healing to keep you from dying here?

"Well, you don't have to help me."

I can't remember who told me, but only that word can be thorned and stabbed in the chest of the spelldoctor Septentorio and fall out.

... you shouldn't be here any longer.

The spelldoctor Septentorio gazed at the open gate to gaze at the phantom forest and chanted in powerful words.

"Cross the Pengcheng and drive from here to him. Hand roll, fold, and jump on one leg."

The destination is the city of Zerneau.

What is happening to those children's place of return now?

I wanted to make sure before I went to Wangdu.

"... where (there) is this person"

Speaking of knots, the landscape changed.

The burnt plaything is completely rusty with the wind from Salt Lake, and the remaining trees from the burnt branches have grown this year's leaves. There were no shadows in the steel park that I had visited for a long time, and as far as I could see, the burning fields were spreading.

Even in this state, the sparrows peck at the weed fruit and buzz. Ri (not even) was sucked into the deserted sky, adding even more sadness.

Outside the park lies untouched debris. Because the sun was still there, or there were no miscellaneous demons floating in the shadows of the rubble.

Many citizens escaped the terror of the Star Way Prostitute Army and moved from this Jerizo area across the canal to the Seljebro area and elsewhere, but not a single building remained, even looking north.

How many have fled and how many lives have been taken?

More than six months after being unilaterally burned down, the district of Jerizo was somewhat quiet because of the faint voice of resentment.

The Zerneau Municipal Central Civic Hospital, where Septentorio worked as a surgical curse physician, has been burned down leaving only the outer walls behind. The same is true of the police station next door, which was chased in an air raid by the Allied Artel Lanista forces for damage sustained in the terrorist attacks of the Star Road Prostitute Army, in a state of utter uselessness.

Looking around, there were no guard soldiers or cops, and there was no [leap] exclusion junction.

Citizens and fire thieves may have visited us back to see how things were going, but now there was only one spelldoctor, Septentorio, of the people of the lake, in Iron and Steel Park.

... first remove debris, then purify land and land, re-survey... will urban planning be redone as well?

How many years will it take just to restore electricity, gas, water, etc. for a powerless civilian?

The spelldoctor Septentorio tried to remember how recovery, reconstruction, from half a century of civil unrest had been, but at the time it had dawned on the treatment of the wounded brought in one after the other, and he could only remember that he had no room at all to observe the state of the city.

On both the day to come and the day to come, foreign objects were removed from people with bullets and fragments in them to block the wounds, peeling off the skin of burn marks that could have been left to halfway treatment and natural healing, and continuing to loosen up the hardened and immobile areas and regenerate them beautifully.

Within it, there were more treatments for bruises, fractures, sprains and other occupational accidents and traffic accidents among construction personnel, and every day it was a busy day when treatment could not be chased away without [the crystal of magic].

... When was the civil hospital building rebuilt?

Was it the third or fifth year since peace?

Until then, a makeshift hospital had just been set up by the army and a prefabricated cabin was later erected, where he would wake up and treat himself.

Septentorio, a long-lived race, fell shoulder to shoulder with the long journey (Michinoli) of three to five years for the people of the long-lived race.