It's all one flower.

"Mr. Store Manager, it was just a letter today."

Praesaw, an employee returning to the chapel of the Eastern Diocese, offered an envelope with regret. On the day my shift is off, I take turns with the newspaper stores and other collaborators to see the mountain hut on Kublum Street.

The keys to the mailbox shall be managed by Priest Wentus of the Eastern Diocese. From above, the haulier Fiarlka and his crew hang the magical [key]. The euphemism changed every time and was informed in the previous letter, so it could only be opened to a limited number of people who were both available.

"Weird. Last time you wrote to me, you promised me you'd share your medication?

Not to mention the matter of losing the store being called the manager, Kufshenka hurriedly cut the seal of the letter.

The fact that a special programme was broadcast on the radio to reach the mainland of the Republic of Artel, as well as the list of medicines brought with it this time and precautions for their use, are summarized in the annex.

At the end of the letter, the next euphemism is just written in a common language, nothing in particular has changed from the usual intercession.

"I think I brought it with me."

"But the usual backpack, it wasn't, was it?

"No way, did you bring that up without permission?

The old nigger groaned scaredly, cutting the holy mark in front of his chest and chanting words of prayer (words).

"No way, hey? 'Cause there's a caveat on the cabin."

"I can't read it. Maybe it was him, huh?

An aunt with brown hair said, her uncle with dark hair stared at the universe.

"And the farmer's, didn't he?

"It was all over the cabin, all I had was a letter in the mailbox."

Asked by the newspaper, Praesaw closed his eyes firmly and sighed (sighs).

Previously, exchanges from Zolata residents were frequently stolen.

Farmers returning to Zolata District can use [spiritual pigeon] schools for chores, etc. in their daily lives, or [field hitting] lark (hibari)] schools on agriculture, but not [crossing swan] school techniques on contracts, imposition of bans, etc.

A while back, I talked to Fiarlka about the theft, and she told me so.

It was also said that if the Zolata district dwellers hung the [key] of the [spiritual dove] school on the door of the cabin, those who did not know the euphemism would cease to enter, but then those who went to pick up firewood and gather food would cease to rest.

The farmers of the Zolata district also thought of this, but so far the proposal has not come to mind.

Nearly a year after that fire, the Nemus Liberation Army raids and the logistical stagnation caused by the war also reduced the number of operating days for the plants that were safe. In the Church of the Eastern Diocese of the Autonomous Community of Listver, people who have lost their jobs gather for a little handiwork in the bailout business.

Even now, the congregation seats in the chapel are filled by one-third of the needleworkers. You don't need tools to make brooms or make grass at home, but only a small amount of food is available from these handicrafts.

Food exchanged for handicrafts by farmers in Zolata District was a thank you to the people of the Autonomous Region.

The haulier of the people of the lake, named Fiarlka, delivers not only medicines and food in exchange for information on the autonomous community of Listver, but also the tools needed for manual work.

Companions of the hauliers included [crossing swans] scholastic operators.

"Can't you break that backpack curse?

A young daughter turned her eyes to the statue of the saint in the deepest part of the chapel. Saint Kirkulus only smiles calmly and does not respond.

The rucksack used by the hauliers to transport was not only [fire-resistant] and [stubborn] to reinforce the bags, but also hung with a powerful technique of avoiding thieves, with a caveat on the walls of the cabin as to what would happen if they did nothing else.

... you thought it was haphazard and brought it up?

The younger generation must have been soaked with the magical horrors of the Nemus Liberation Army raid.

"What shall we do?

"Shouldn't you be delivering it to the security forces?

"When the priest returns, let's talk"

A ni monk hung up on the newsman's voice.

If security forces were to move, the mountain huts on Kublum Street would be thoroughly examined and placed under the surveillance of government forces at a later date. Exchange of information with the Fiarlkas was not an act that touched the law, but in times of war it was not known how it would be seen by the military.

The security forces dispatched to the autonomous community of Listwer are all powerless people.

With only a critical number of people to carry out their daily tasks, they were not yet, once, able to set foot on the streets of Kublum and could not afford to survey the surroundings of the Autonomous Communities.

The interim government and government forces were unable to grasp the fact that the aspirations of the Nemus Liberation Army and the Nemoralis Construction Union had redeveloped the streets across the Kublum Mountains, opening them from the Listwar Autonomous Region on the eastern tip to near the northern city of Zakart on the western tip.

If this gets passed on by now, it's going to be a pain in the ass.

... I wonder what's really going on.

"Good luck, everyone"

Priest Wentus of the Eastern Diocese returned from the meeting of the district chief's house, where the handkerchiefs lay their foreheads together. Those who looked to the doors of the chapel swallow the words of welcome back.

... only at a time like this.

Priest Ferretolum, seconded by the Cathedral, is with him.

I had a rare view of the hand-working people in the chapel and greeted them unhindered, but they didn't convey it because it was a common language, and the reaction of the people of the Autonomous Communities was faint.

"Hello, everyone. May the saints bless you with your diligence."

When Kufshenka interpreted, the Autonomous Communities grinned immensely and returned their greetings in Hunan.

"Mr. Store Manager, Praesaw is in just the right place. I'd like to talk to you for a moment, and the newspaper guy, would you like some time?

Priest Wentus whispers quickly in Hunan.

"Viola's waiting, so I'm not staying very long..."

"It won't take that long. I just wanted to check a few things out."

"Oh, if that's about it"

"I hope I make it to the evening paper, too."

Newspapers also agreed, and there is no rush for Kufushenka, who has lost his tailor's store.

I left the instruction of the sewing to the ni monks and took them and moved them to the office.