It's all one flower.

The three men took off and left the premises of the Second Temple of the King's Capital.

Enter the market with guidance from the haulier Fiarluca and settle into a common dining room.

"Business is up because of the war."

"Me and you, too, but Mr. Boat Head is more, isn't he?

One blur makes another snort over and over again.

The spelldoctor Septentorio took a gentle peek at the nearby seats and took his gaze off and listened.

"That's right. There were fewer tourists and customers. It doesn't matter to the Wang Dynasty to say that the wind tree has been cleared."

The man in clothing, embroidered with a spell in white on the blue ground, seems to be the bow of a boat crossing the canal.

Fiarlka, the haulier, completes the order for three and puts on the tablet terminal.

"It's the end of getting out to the guy who got out of police shack in a fight. What about you?

"The refugees are going to the camp, and you're about to take a breather."

"Has everyone cleaned up?

"No, we still have three sets left. But there's the order of the ships. If the canal goes up, help me with the lake. I heard the king will give you the fare for transporting refugees on the Magic Ship."

Amiella, sitting with her back to them, wandered.

She and the spelldoctor are burned out and turn themselves over to the kingdom of Amitostigma. The Mariana house is cozy, but this kind of hospitality is an exception. The life of the refugee camp, which was rapidly built through forests, is still tough more than a year later.

"Don't be impotent. Such a big deal is totally different on its own. Foreign routes need to be qualified."

"Heh, you must magically move it, so I thought we'd be together."

"Aren't you the one who hired him to work downstairs?

"I'm not kidding. They even took the employee's job after the room was blocked for half the price. Besides, all that's left is a people without power."

The bowman of the ferry boat and the pavilion owner of the bareback inn sighed at the same time. A fixed meal arrives in the two seats and the conversation is interrupted.

Fiarluca, sitting across the street, dropped a tablet terminal off at the spelldoctor Septentorio. If you keep it on the table, it's a list of refugee-related news distributed by the press within the Kingdom of Lacrimaris.

Transfers to refugee camps do not proceed as late as possible.

Refugees involved in the incidents, such as late payment of accommodation expenses, problems in accommodation and labour relations, burglaries, fraud and trafficking in human beings, were both perpetrators and victims.

After half a century of civil unrest, the Kingdom of Lacrimaris rebuilt its finances with tourism, focusing on pilgrimages to the Holy Land. Many citizens are involved in tourism in some way or another, not just in the Wang capital.

Lacrimalis, sandwiched between Nemoraris and Artel, was unable to lift the lockdown even after the extermination of the wind tree.

"The reconciliates, I knew it was a bad idea to divide the country, I don't know what to say, but I don't know why."

The bow drinks down the marinade of white fish and shakes the story.

Said the pawnbroker of Nanajuku, putting down the bread he had eaten.

"Isn't it Cotto that we have to divide the country, it didn't turn into a war? If a king or an emperor were to rule, military and common politicians would imitate like Nemoralis."

"Is that what you say? I used to be sure of that, and before the country split, you know, what a magical creature, it stayed sealed in the back of the mountain for 700 years."

When the convincing bow reached for the soup, the pavilion owner of Yasujuku cheeked the bread.

A fixed meal also came to the seats of the three spelldoctors.

Amiella has a colorful one-plate lunch and the whole green set meal is for the people of the lake, Septentorio and Fiarluca. If the people of land speak, they become addicted to copper in one meal. The spelldoctor returned the terminal and took the bread in green and blue.

The pawn owner of Yasuku twists his neck.

"I don't know about democracy. There's a council here, too, but that's a mon to wrap up the story of the people and petition the king on behalf of them."

"Even I don't know how it works over there, and I still don't know what I did until I fought."

"Really."

The bowman bites warm vegetables with his imaginary face and pours them in with soup to say.

"Guest told me the senator will discuss and decide anything."

"What am I supposed to do if the guy I voted for can't be a senator?

The pavilion owner of Yasuku asks by stopping his hand from mixing salad and dressing. The spelldoctor, Septentorio, had the same doubts as him.

The bowman answered with no confidence.

"I don't have a king, so why don't you ask the other senators?

"You didn't put your vote in because you didn't think it was a good idea?

"You can't help it. There's no one else."

"What's so good about it that you divided the country until you fought so hard?

The pavilion owner of Yasuku also says the same thing as the bow across the street.

When the bowman stopped his eating hand and frowned, the pavilion owner of Yasuku said.

"Isn't that where the moderates want to say it, too? They're going to have elections in Artel soon, but there's only one person who can be president, and a lot of them have run for it."

"Wouldn't there be more mons who put their votes in the fallen guy? Are Artel's people convinced of that?

"Don't ask me. Perhaps one of us will gather a large number of votes."

The spelldoctor Septentorio was surprised to see the presence of those who speak of national reconciliation in the Kingdom of Lacrimalis.

... With that said, Artel and I had national traffic at one time.

With Lacrimaris announcing his witchcraft bias policy, Artel's side cut off national traffic.

... I wonder how the ethnic reconciliators see the ban on Kirkrus within the kingdom.

Unless we do something about the problem of faith, it won't be like it was before half a century of civil unrest. Would the moderates have noticed and come into contact with the Hidden Kirkurs within the kingdom?

"You look like you might want me to look into something."

"Here's a little..."

I'll see you later.

As Septentorio clouded his mouth, Fiarluca smiled with a translational face.