Kuro no Maou

When the boy first came to Avalon, he thought that the slums (slums), where the weak and the poor gather, had similar views everywhere.

Out of the village of Quaal with his parents and brothers - from there on, hell was just waiting for him - for the wacky reason that enemies such as the Jurge army came.

The father he could count on was crushed, the kind mother torn, the brother he admired was shot through, and his pretty sister vanished into a burning flame.

Still, the hardest times pass, only to be literally remembered by the name of the past.

There is no such thing as the shape of my parents. If you insist, is it about the body of five satisfied bodies with the blood flowing between them?

That was all I lacked at all for my unfamiliar self to live a happy life again.

If I noticed, I walked out of Sparda's ghetto and strayed into the carriage of a dragon car that I didn't know where I was headed.

At least, being in Sparda can't help it, it's a conclusion I made as a child, but it may not have even come off though.

Surviving refugees, they all had their hands full in their own lives, lost altogether such as the vital spirit of mutual assistance in the village society, and no one could afford to take care of the helpless boy, no, no, no.

Especially with the disappearance at some point of the chief vigilante of the village of Quaal named Nantka, who was the central figure leading the evacuees, it was no longer possible to bring them together as one group.

Together, the boy took off his sparda with a hint of hope, which eventually drove him to Avalon.

Regardless, here again, the only place possible is a ghetto, such as where orphans go.

In the end, wherever he went, the boy realized his own predicament when he was trapped in this dim, dirty, worn-out labyrinth that he could never destroy.

Sparda and Avalon, yes, the name of the country just changed, the environment I am in makes no difference, the slums are the same everywhere - yes, I thought at first.

"Hey, what's wrong with that orange?

I only took one away, but there was a voice next year from another boy, a man who could turn to a fifteen-year-old adult, to a boy with an orange still full of cages.

Dull blonde upside down, strangely dabbled clothes, a dagger with this gaze lowered from her waist to intimidate her.

It is one of the classic equipment of chimps, which is commonly seen here.

Behind him like that stands two more boys of the same age and outfit with a niggling look.

Take it away from the weak, blackmail is a daily tea meal in the Glades.

"I took it from the Demons."

"Soitz is a good idea, and the priest will be delighted. - I'm just on my way, Twitter."

"Really!

These three were familiar with the boy.

More precisely, it is an orphanage run by the White Light Church, the same fellow who lives there.

Both the boy and the three of them, if you look closely, wear accessories that somewhere symbolize the cross, and at the same time prove to be fellow believers.

"Tomorrow's ritual is ready. Don't interrupt too much."

"I know!

To the reaction of their lovely disciples, the three give Kerakera a laugh.

Although the boy is also somewhat embarrassed, he is not in such a bad mood, because he already admires them, so much so that they have broken each other's relationship.

"Well, we're a little wild, so see you later."

"Yeah."

And, when he breaks up, the boy grabs one orange from the cage and throws it away.

"Hehe, it's soccer"

"Be thankful for the grace of the Virgin Mary. Yikes!

The boy then rushes out the dirty alley with another orange diminished cage.

The look is not fed up with the sight of a favela like no other.

That once has the same childish refreshing grin as when I ran around my hometown of Noyama with my siblings and friends.

It doesn't change the actual view in the boy's eyes. But now this thin, filthy city is also dazzling as if filled with white, clean light.

That is nothing more than because the light of hope is once again plugged into his heart.

And I gave that light to...

"Priest!

The boy finally gets back to the orphanage (goal).

A two-story building similar to a run-down stone apartment with no sense of disorder or nothing to stand around, this is the orphanage of the White Light Church where he now lives.

Nearly half corrosion is underway, only the size is the main entrance to a splendid double-open wooden door. There was a little crowd there.

All we are gathering are children living in orphanages, just like ourselves, young children of our age.

At the heart of those children is one boy who literally looks white and radiant, dressed in brilliant priestly clothing.

"Hey, welcome back"

Responding to his call, the boy priest turned his vague blue eyes like he was looking somewhere far away, not here, and yes he returned only one word.

Just that, the boy's heart is filled with unspeakable joy.

To a young priest his age who was only one or two different from this self, the boy had much higher respect and respect than his parents.

Because he is the one who saved himself and guided him - yes, he is the great man who invited him into the path of true faith, the "guide of white light", which man should walk in.

"Ah, it looks super delicious! What's the matter, Sole?

Standing always leaning next to the priest, the red-haired girl points to the orange cage in the boy's hand as she raises her tall voice.

"Oh, shit, this is..."

I accidentally stepped aside, not because of the girl's high-exposure outfit, which also stimulates Eros in her childhood, but because of the priest's eyes staring straight at this one next to her.

"You can eat it, right? I mean, I'm gonna eat it!

"Ahhh!?

If you notice, the girl takes every orange out of the cage,

"Look, it's his time!

As it was, he took the young children he was gathering with him and left like a storm inside the orphanage.

Maybe the boy will end up without a bite of the orange he's got himself. The children in the orphanage are always hungry.

"Ha..."

I think of such a sad prediction instantly, a small sigh of sigh,

"You did the right thing."

If I looked up to my accidental voice, a boy priest of white beauty stood in front of me.

"Ah, ha, ha!

"Bless the Son of God, and redeem the Demons."

I could not understand exactly what his words meant, word for word, to a boy who was an ignorant child, but I already knew what to do and what to do.

"that there is no guide to white light."

Finally, summing the determinations together, the priest and the boy disappeared into the orphanage.