It's all one flower.

Skinum guided us to a beautiful hill, because places where people gather, such as churches, could be targets of terrorism.

Coming north from the southeast end of Ignikans.

The city, stretching along the lake bank on the hills, was as colorful as flipping a toy box, and a truck constantly flowing down the highway looked like a queue of minicars.

At the western end, the huge South Vieitofi Bridge.

This was not the case when viewed from the Lanterna Island side, but from the mainland side's point of view, he fell into the illusion that he had misscaled. The bridge makes the city in front look smaller, but it's actually a much bigger city than the city of Zerneau, with skyscrapers everywhere.

Several cranes for construction will be operational. To say that you can see the shape at this distance is quite a size as well.

The eastern end is a vast area covered in gray asphalt.

The building is consolidated at the edge of the site. Antennas, radar equipment, control towers, hangars, etc. There are several runways to Lake Lacus, but the plane remains parked in front of it.

... because of the blockade on the lake, can't we even get the plane out?

Skinum notices Roark's gaze and explains.

"That's Ignikans Air Force Base. An additional drone arrived from the Barbatum Federation last week and is now undergoing maintenance."

"Mr. Skinum, how do you even know such a koto? In military secrecy......?

"That doesn't seem to be particularly true. It was usually on the internet news."

"Really?

Skinum tilted his neck to surprise Roark.

"If it's internet news, I don't think it's going to pass on to Nemoralis..."

"Ah...... yeah, if you ask me that"

Misunderstood with an ambiguous grin.

... Farkil, you and Lazolnik look at the guts, though.

I'll remember and ask.

"Did you say the other day that you, Farkill, were close friends with Skinum?

"We were so... parents were close to each other, and sometimes they invited us to a home party, and we came and went to each other's house."

"What was she like?

"Farkill, you're a junior high school student, but you were a grown up, smart, talkative kid. In the meantime, I hope you return safely."

The hills where trees stand are not well-maintained parks.

The wind blowing up from Lake Lacus is cold, and there's no one else looking like them.

Roark took the bet.

"The Fluxinus pray to Panisea Uni Flora, the goddess of the lake, that the edge of the water will be connected so we can meet soon."

Skinum held his breath and looked around.

The wind coming from far north across the lake water flips the two coats.

Roark gazed at Ignikerns base and said it was like nothing.

"Kirkulus faith outside the Autonomous Community is forbidden in Nemoralis. So I usually have the knowledge of prayer to pretend to be a Fluxinus."

"That's... that's a tough trial"

Skinum labored with a voice that squeezed out of the back of his throat.

Roark does not respond to it and counts the drones with his gaze.

Thirty-two planes.

I don't know how many planes sleep in the hangar, but just being on the table is pretty good.

... but I can't crush the base like I did then by myself.

Should we cross to the island of Lanterna and inform the Nemoralis Grief Squad of the Orioles? Or should we somehow inform the Razorniks and entrust their hopes to the diplomatic efforts of Senator Raqueus and other politicians opposed to the war?

"Mr. Roark......?

Look next to the guiding voice and immediately lean down.

The dead grass beneath your feet is like the wind of a lake.

"During peace, I put myself in pagan faith, even in lies. After evacuating from the air raid, he was hired by a wizard for subsistence cravings to help him make magic pills. I can't help but be despised, but being silent is distressing to be deceived..."

"How dare you despise me...... ugh! I'm sure I can't keep my saint's teachings in the midst of evil wizards with the power of evil. I respect you."

Skinum doesn't look like an act.

... I'm not overconfident in myself. You really are a humble and devout faith elite. Well, in such a home environment, can't you even indulge in faith?

Roark said as he watched the dead grass.

"But my faith in Nemoralis seems to have been distorted a long time because of that state of affairs."

"Faith distorted...?

"At the seminary, I learned the right teaching again and was convinced. The Bible says," You must not use evil, "but it doesn't say," Kill a powerful people. "

"Yes, but that's... even the Artel Army air strike."

Tell Skinum to take it up.

Roark threw his gaze across the horizon. I have no view of my home island of Nenia.

"In Nemoralis, when you're three years old, you have a magic test."

"Testing magic?

Skinum listens back with a strange face.

Roark nodded and looked north.

It is not until the island of Lanterna, connected by the South Vieetofi Bridge, that it looks bluntly weak and gleaming Lake Lacus under a thin, cloudy sky.

The city of Zerneau in the central part of the island of Negna is invisible no matter how hard you try.

I swallowed Belyoza's brother, and the Nieflit River.

"It's a simple test to let you grip the [magic crystal] at the end of your medical examination. If you are a powerful people, [crystals] will be filled with magic and shine white."

Skinum breathed.

... Is that such a surprise? Well, no.

"I had a father and mother who decided to forgive each other, and I knew that his brother was a powerful people... and when he was five years old, he made it look like an accident... and my parents killed him."

My voice trembled more than I thought, and I was interrupted, but I could tell you somehow.

Skinum stands without words.

The wind roared in his ear, pulling Roark's voice off a thousand times.

"Until then... I, my only child, adored my pardoned brother like my own. When he died... Forgiveness said with great pleasure, 'I'm so refreshed that there's no longer a dirty child from home', laughing, telling me what happened..."

Roark remembered Belyoza's smile, nauseated and shut his mouth.

An invisible hand drinks down the discomfort of grabbing the bottom of the stomach and pushing it up.

"Before that, I thought something was wrong. Only my brother is always hungry, thin and small... if I invite my pardon dowry to take him to a bakery a little far from home and luxury him with sweet bread, eat with great momentum..."

"That's... from time to time, eat..."

Skinum's voice was also plundering.

Roark continues by shaking off his brother's tooth decay filled smile, which he ate almost (mostly) without chewing.

"I was a child, too, and my brother couldn't remember the words because he was slow to speak and what was at home... No, now that I think about it, I guess I couldn't get them properly raised, but the parents of the forgiveness couldn't even explain what was happening to me and ask for help..."

"Oh no..."

Skinum mutters prayer words (words) with her bloody lips.

"There are no magic tests in the Autonomous Community. Honestly, if you'd just revealed your faith and lived in the Autonomous Community, your parents wouldn't have to kill you."

"Oh no... then why are you living outside the Autonomous Community, hiding your faith?

Naturally.

"Autonomous communities are poorer than the average across the republic. So in order to protect your existing status and property... you falsify your faith for your money. Still, can you respect it?

Skinum took Roark's gaze and looked straight back. Sincere eyes shake reflecting the colour of sorrow.

"Actually...... even Artel, there are similarities. There are magical artifacts everywhere, and anyone who accidentally touches them and discovers they have magic is killed, troubled and commits suicide, or if they are a child... the mother feels responsible and can't feel comfortable..."

A heavy sigh of skinum disappears caught in the wind from the lake.

Roark shuddered, recalling the untrue and unknown information he saw on the "Adventurer Cactacare" fan forum.

A glimmer of tears falls down Skinum's cheek with his face raised.

"Mr. Skinum...?

"My mother, for giving birth to me... as a witch, to burn..."

Skinum's face distorts into agony, kneeling in dead grass.

Roark searched for words to hang with the shoulders of a crying theological student, but the city of Ignikans was cold, the air base kept silent, and the goddess of Lake Lacus only glistened calmly and taught him nothing.