Lonely Attack on the Different World

Day 217 Town of Day Kingdom Border Iron Works

I look around the city on behalf of you, but everything is a different world. I was told to put together some improvements in the meantime, because I'm going to be away for a bit, but so excessive that everyone suddenly doesn't even know what to ask for at their own expense.

"The more I look at it, the more it is."

"" Oh, it's so uninterrupted that I know what it means ""

If I thought it was just a house, it was one piece that stuck to what it meant to ”live” with integrated homes and towns. Making something is so hard that it's easy, making something new is like looking for only one correct answer in your ordeal. Such one answer was in front of me, as a matter of course, and its functional beauty was the reason for the appearance of an integrated town that I just thought was beautiful.

Yes, I know because it makes things - this is a form of thought that keeps no one from dying and defending themselves on the edge of the world's hell and the arrogant readiness to be happy. All the contents of the appearance resembling that hatred and anger are tender thoughts everywhere.

"That's a shame."

"Everything is horrible technology."

"This is common sense now."

He was blinded by the vicious walls and the pioneering ironworks and blacksmiths, but said there was an aqueduct inside the walls of the houses and he didn't need to go fetch water. And the sewage is kept clean by flowing underground, the food is stored cold with a few demonic stones, the interior can be warm or cool, a town lined with garbage-sucking demonic props and houses equipped with demonic props to wash. It's ridiculous, it's too scary to come up with something like this, not in town.

"Is the water stainless?"

"I don't know the procedure, but this is all smelled"

"This is it for all the houses?

"Everywhere there's a basement with standard equipment that runs sewage. I'm surprised at first, but if I'm not used to it, I feel inconvenient."

Even in the Dwarves' legend, it was a legacy that a vast amount of magic would sleep instead of having demons on the periphery. Yes, the fruitfulness of the crop was also unusual, but more than that, the skill of life is way too slippable, all of its ideas and ideas are strange.

"It's crazy and natural. It's all something that I didn't even do until six months ago, and it's all been told."

"Sounds like a dream story."

"It's fun to listen to dream stories in other HR, but living in them... you'll be tired if you can't be. Surprised."

All of a sudden, he greeted Uncle Borderline, who appeared flustered, leaving the town to everyone while they were confused. We, who were slaves, were entrusted with a town so splendid and luxurious that we could not imagine it, to the immigrants who had lost their country.

"But wouldn't it be a problem if we didn't get permission from the beasts and elves who lived first, and our Dwarves would live on the border?

"Even if it's a problem, you'll forget it. There are too many problems at the border, and it doesn't matter if you're a person or a sub."

"That's the disaster?

"That's the disaster."

He was a funny boy. He used us as shields to help the boys, and if you ask, he drew the army alone. Yet a child who was ungrateful and not great, and who seemed to send me to the periphery as if it didn't matter if I was subhuman.

"Is that better than Uncle Borderline?

The majesty of the peripheral uncle at a glance, a furnace-like majesty with gentle but harsh heat as his living being. It is also like a hero of the story, everyone was struck in the chest... that this is the one who kept fighting demons and defending the world.

It was an exchange that seemed plain to Uncle Neighbourhood, as if he had not cared about the wind, and that Uncle Ning Lo Neighbourhood was out poorer. By the way, the people behind us were royalty from all countries, and all of us Dwarves were welcomed and welcomed.

"It's not great, but it looks better than the king. Kings from all over the country are doing just that."

"Is it good, is it?

"It must be good, because the Pope treated me like that."

The more I hear, the scarier it gets. And the town, the iron mill, the blacksmith were prepared, and I was afraid of the last word asked...... "Don't you want a country? Shall I pick it up somewhere?". It's like a drop, just as if I should pick it up, and the fact that no consideration has ever been sought before.

"I don't need anything. I'm sure the words of gratitude, the long acknowledgements, the humble courtesies... so not great, yet great, everyone is in trouble, that's..."

A man who strikes iron with that in mind - a mix that draws Dwarf's blood, which is a contraindication to the clan.

There's no wind I knew and cared about that, I'm sure I sincerely strike iron with all my spirits enough to make that matter better.

Code to protect Dwarf's secrets, discrimination to admonish its spill. This is the answer, the one created in front of you. Contraindications, customs and inheritance are pointless, there is an iron truth here, and this is where life is worth striking with a sword.

"Is it good, even if I tell you such a secret cheaply"

"I'd love to steal it and go beyond it. I can't even match that kid on my own... you can't hit a weapon that can fight at the bottom of the labyrinth."

That's the answer. With so many arms, mourning with remorse and quietly angry at himself as he makes the best that silences the Dwarf.

I guess that's already discrimination, an internship, and I've been suffering and scratching iron so much that I don't care about blood muscles. If there is not enough strength, if the moves are not extended, the blacksmith will continue to struggle for higher goals than the legend, and the blacksmith will continue to strike iron with his life at stake.

"I teach you all the secrets of the family of Non. And please disciple Non!

"And my workshop. Please make us disciples!

"Please. I don't mind working downstairs, please disciple!

Drowned by dexterity, possessed by creation, with the aim of making something, possessed by weapons just to kill, neglected by elves and beasts… and destroyed the country with that weapon.

It was used by the people, abominably subhuman, and at last lost its country and became a slave... that would have been natural. It would have been a reward for our cause for losing sight of what a weapon was to fight, and for misusing its means and purpose.

But it stayed on the border. Here was what Dwarf wanted, and here was a real blacksmith who inherited that pride. There was a true blacksmith who knew what a weapon to fight, and therefore mourned and suffered helplessly no matter what he made the best.

In every workshop, only the hearts of blacksmiths are told that they are present in the battlefield "Sakata" of the samurai "Momofu", while the meaning of it was misworn and the country was destroyed by the Dwarves. It was the mixer whose Dwarves scorned the Abominable that took over... who kept striking swords at the warriors in this neighborhood.

I don't need a country - it's a grief, that's what the clan lost and craved more than anything else.

But the pride we have lost is here.

This is what my ancestors dreamed of, and it's just a code or something.

If my ancestors see a world where these kids laugh and the code matters, I'll come to the furnace and slap them back.

But - whether this Han is a mixer or an undisputed real craftsman. Why did the store have sticks all over it... even though I'm a blacksmith?