It's all one flower.

The MP's sister continues by casting a shadow on her deeply wrinkled carved face.

"We've been watching the movement since then, but it seems that the mayors of the Autonomous Communities, some Independents and Dependents, knew in advance about the air raids of the Artel Lanista coalition."

"By what means did they find out?

On the face of it, there are no national exchanges between the Republic of Nemoralis and the Republic of Artel and Lanista, and the Autonomous Region of Listwar is no exception.

"I couldn't look that far, but it's the same as the smuggling of weapons etc., little by little in parts via a third country... Did you send a letter dispersed in specifications etc., using the internet and dots on a device that was dispersed in parts and smuggled..."

"Please wait. In the Autonomous Community...... is the internet available?

"Yep. At the southeast end of everything, I used a Lacrimaris radio wave or something... I pinched it in my ear, but I don't know when it got to the district manager's hand..."

The spelldoctor Septentorio was also surprised, but the needle girl also stares at the old woman of her employer with an eye that sees incredible objects.

"After the Great Fire, a lot of relief supplies and donations were gathered using the Internet for help not only from Artel and Lanista, but also from the Cathedral of Banksia and foreign faithful 'organizations, so it is now difficult for anyone who finds out what they did that day to criticize"

The old woman drops her gaze on the table and talks about the current situation in the autonomous community.

Although large capital plants have been rebuilt or are operating without analogy in the first place, most SME plants such as daily necessities consumed within the Autonomous Communities have not been able to be rebuilt, and living supplies are still being donated after more than six months.

Church officials and tailors focus on regenerating old clothes into bags, bedding, etc., supporting the needy in the autonomous community in the form of paying their fees, and increasing production of household goods, but ultimately, it is not enough.

We are digging up Kublum streets in the mountains, bringing the mountain's fat soil, rotten soil and firewood into the Autonomous Community and preparing for harvest this winter and next year, but we do not know to what extent this will reduce the frozen and starved deaths.

"It's better than nothing, though. It's water on a burning stone. Neither the Independents nor the Dependents seem to care about the burned East Side residents. People like us who want a pre-civil unrest situation… may I also say" affinity "? Affiliates are small and they can't do much."

Old and withered voices trembled in sorrow, striking the ears and hearts of the spelldoctor Septentorio.

"The day I came back here as the official government damage investigation team, I confirmed my brother's will."

"What did Senator Laqueus say...?

"Until then, he said he thought we could live in peace if we lived apart and stayed out of each other's business, but he said he realized it was a big mistake"

The Congressman's sister sipped cold town flower tea and exhaled heavily to continue.

"Suspending all my old, short lives working for national reconciliation... that's what I said"

"Is that the accusation of a demon asthma cannon?

"The real enemy is not the military or the government itself. Soldiers and officials at the scene are just being used as pawns without being informed of anything."

"So who is the real enemy? Who's making you so horrible? Is that Mr. District Manager?

Until then, Sarotka, the needle girl who remained silent, spat out her inquiry and anger as if she had cut a weir. If one of the district chiefs is bad, it's a momentum to kill him, but stop him.

The spelldoctor Septentorio saw an old woman in a tailor, barely pressured by the momentum of a grown-up girl.

"It's not just the district manager. For your own benefit, we can't help those who trample on others, those who are driven by revenge for everything, and those who are desperate."

"Is that... because we're all bad, after all, it's nobody's fault?

The needle girl seems to be a pretty smart kid.

If I had a decent education, I felt like I was going to use that brain for the future, but it wouldn't have come true if I stayed within Nemoralis, where school reconstruction wouldn't have stayed either.

"That's what happens when you look at it in big brackets."

When the old woman of her employer affirmed, the needle girl was expecting a denial, which drew her cheek. The old tailor keeps looking into the girl's eyes.

"... but there's something about the responsibilities that people have to say they're each big, and to say that they're all responsible, on the contrary, is to say that they have the power to make and change the future for everyone.... you know?

The needle Sarotka stared back at her employer, placed a few breaths and pulled her jaw small. The old woman in the tailor nodded back, turning to the curse doctor and continuing.

"I don't have the help to know what kind of activities my brother does outside the country, but I'm sure the idea will be passed on to many people"

... both this man and Senator Laqueus are a perpetual race. I guess we entrust hope to the young people because we know we don't have time for it.

The spelldoctor Septentorio saw the girl with the needle, but Sarotka was staring at one point at the table by killing her expression. I can't see my thoughts or emotions from that side.

The curse doctors of the people of the lake changed the subject thoughtfully.

"Um... I'm sorry to bother you, but you said earlier... you let Mr. Amiella, the needle, escape outside the Autonomous Community, right?

"Yep. I thought it would be dangerous for her to stay here..."

The old woman in the tailor answers with a strange face.

"That person, with blonde hair, is this... er... a little older than Mr. Sarotka... a woman around twenty?

"Uh, uh, why did you...?

Old lazy (loose) dripping eyelids lift up, eyes open to anticipation and surprise gaze at the curse doctor.

"I don't remember until the... date of March, but I do think... it was around March. The young woman who healed in the forest of Resalube also named her Amiella."

In the stronghold of the militant guerrillas of Lanterna Island on the boulder, it is said that they lived together, and so on, and only teach the unusual encounter.

"Was she in such a dangerous place by herself?

"No, I was with the survivors of the air raid. We were on our way to find a safe truck, board its carriage, and evacuate to North Zakart City."

"Well..."

An old woman moisturizes her eyes and covers her mouth.

"I was in a pharmaceutical laboratory with others back then, and there, I healed Mr. Amiella, who was fractured,"

"Well... so now that kid's in North Zakart City?

The old woman heard it in tears.

"No, I went to the city of North Zakart later too, but it was the same ruin as the city of Zerneau, and there was also an army frontline base..."

The delight of an old woman fades away. The spelldoctor Septentorio stressed her safety.

He said he was going through the Zakart tunnel to Lacrimaris territory.

"Did you go south? But over there, if you're not a wizard..."

"Radio reports showed that cities on the northern shore of the island of Nenia were also quite damaged, because relief supplies had arrived from Lacrimalis… Later we learned that quite a few Nemoralis are passing through Lacrimalis territory as refugees"

"So now, at Lacrimaris, you're safe, right?

The face of an old woman in a tailor cannot be flaunted. Amiella, a Kirkurus, has great anxiety about going to a magical civilized country, and she doesn't seem to be happy to let go.

The spelldoctor Septentorio chose the words carefully.

"From Lacrimaris, there are still ships to the capital, Cravel. And, uh, it would be very far-fetched, but I might be able to get in touch with Mr. Amiela."

"What do you mean?

An old woman rides herself out to the table.

"Earlier, we talked about someone who might be able to contact Congressman Laqueus, and he's acting with someone connected to him."

"Are you sure?

"Only a few of them I met and talked to in person with Mr. Amiela. I found out over the internet that it was acquaintances of the people of the lake who taught me that."

"... what do you mean?

Relationships are easy and old women's understanding cannot be driven. But the spelldoctor Septentorio moved on.

"Er, an acquaintance is working on taking pilgrims to the Holy Land in [leaps], and they have a wide face, but he said he made a [leaps] contract with a bunch like it... maybe by now he's in the King's Capital of Lacrimalis, or he's already crossed over to Cravel"

Explaining it without naming it remains elusive, but revealing everything here to the boulders is dangerous.

The old woman thought silently for a while with her fingers on the table, drawing a diagram of the maverick relationship, organizing the information and listening.

"Huh... who can contact my brother, who is connected to him, who is a Lake folk I know who is a curse doctor... do you have any idea who these three people can meet with Amiela?

"Hmmm...... in person, it can be difficult for all three of us. I am likely to meet in person with an acquaintance of the people of the lake and someone who can contact Congressman Laqueus... but the three of them are in a position to contact me via the internet..."

Worst of all, if the spelldoctor Septentorio [leaps] to the underground town of Chernochnijnik and meets Fiarlka, the haulier of the people of the lake, even in her absence, he can handle it if he entrusts it with a thank-you to the spellmaker or to Chloenier. Or do you want me to look for Razornik in the king's capital and contact Farkil?

After a few hands, it would reach Amiella, who became part of a mobile distributor.

"Um... the spell doctor... oh dear, I'm afraid it's a thick favor, would you please hand me a letter to my brother and Amiela?

"I don't mind, but there will be many in between, and this is your time. Will it arrive for sure... and your reply is..."

"I don't mind. Even if it takes time... you may read the letter to your brother to the leader of the Asakor party if he is unable to do so"

Surprised by the clear reply, I return the query.

"Isn't it personal?

"This is useful information for peace. … I'm late, but my name is Kufshenka"

An old woman in a tailor correctly named her after her resident.

The curse doctor of the people of the lake is also attached and stretches his spine.

"Mr. Kufshenka, right? Hi, I'm sorry I'm late. My name is Septentorio, and I'm a curse physician at the Surgery Department of the Central Civic Hospital of Zerneau."

"Oh, you know, I say Sarotka. If the manager's letter gets to your brother, will it be peaceful, everything, better?

The needle Sarotka looked at the two alternately.

Kufshenka shakes her head to the side with sadness.

"I can't do it right away. If it takes a while, but everyone doesn't give up, the world will surely get better. No one knows when it will be..."

"One thing's for sure: if you don't do anything, nothing will change."

The needle Sarotka nodded heavily at the words of the two aged men.

After lunch, the tailor's manager, Kufshenka, cages himself in his room to write a letter, and the needle Sarotka, as the manager told him, eagerly proceeds to read the thick scriptures at the table.

The spelldoctor Septentorio read to devour newspapers published within the Autonomous Communities that were paid for their treatment.